Lucid

A blue and purple sky, covered heavily with long wispy dark clouds, shone over the red rocks, dust, and mountains surrounding them. The wind whipped through Clare’s hair as she sat at a small two-person table speaking to her great grandma Rhoda, the dry air tickling her nose.

“Deep in your heart you know exactly what to do, Clare,” Rhoda said softly, but with a furrowed brow and a tinge of exasperation. “We don’t have much time left.”

With that, Rhoda faded away. Sitting alone, Clare became conscious of her heartbeat and closed her eyes, focusing on slowing and deepening her breath. When she opened her eyes again she was sitting up in her bed. For as long as she could remember, Clare had been lucid dreaming. It terrified her for the vast majority of her life, and the panic would typically wake her up once she became aware she was in a dream. With time, she learned to breathe through the fear and gained some control beyond awareness of the dream itself.

Now, 25 years old and five years into working on control of her dreams, relatives and ancestors long since passed started showing up with cryptic messages Clare couldn’t seem to decode. This recent visit from Rhoda had been by far the most direct communication she had received, though it still did nothing to clear the confusion.

From her bed, Clare eyed the black leather notebook laying on her bedside table glowing by the dim light of her salt lamp. She heaved a deep sigh and tossed off her quilt. She pulled her long brown hair into a scrunchie while slipping her feet into her house shoes. Grabbing the notebook on her way out the door and making her way to the rickety staircase down to the kitchen where her grandmother, Ellie May, had a cup of steaming coffee at the ready. Clare gratefully took the mug and sat down at the kitchen island while her grandmother skated across the chipped cement floor preparing a large breakfast for their guests. Despite being 82 years old, her grandmother could dance circles around her in the kitchen and garden. She was a woman made of hard work, wisdom, and a fire of determination that Clare had yet to encounter anywhere else in her life.

Clare absolutely adored living at the bed and breakfast with her grandmother and proudly helped run the business side of things. The property had been passed down through generations, housing wanderers, gypsies, and businessmen alike for over 300 years.

“Who came this time?” Ellie May asked while turning over strips of bacon in a frying pan.

“Great grandma Rhoda. She said I should know the meaning behind the dreams and visits, but that’s all I got before she left.” Clare rubbed her eyes and opened the notebook, remembering the man who left it behind a few weeks before. He checked in early for a one-day stayover and paid cash. The name on the reservation was initials and Clare was unable to reach him to return the item. Upon opening the cover she noticed her full name printed on the inside in delicate gold lettering. Ever since, her lucid dreams had been haunted by ancestors and she could not come up with any reasonable explanation for the notebook appearing in the first place. She had been using it as a dream journal thus far, making note of anything that might help make sense of it all.

“My mother, is that so?” Ellie May seemed to take pause at the mention of her mom. Rhoda had died in a tragic drowning accident when Ellie Mae was only 5 years old. Clare knew of her great grandma through stories and pictures her grandmother shared with her. Men in our family history never stuck around and the women died tragically, usually leaving young children behind.

“Yeah, I wish I knew what this all meant,” Clare trailed off as she jotted down her dream into the notebook.

On top of the stress of the sudden onset of lucid dream visits and the mysterious notebook, the bed and breakfast was in need of extensive and expensive plumbing and electrical work that were far outside of the budget the meager earnings from their guests allowed. Clare had been brainstorming on how to raise the funds for the work for months. Losing the family business to disrepair was absolutely not an option. She had a small side business making jewelry, though that income was sporadic at best. Her talismans took a lot of time to make by hand and she could only accept a few orders per month to avoid overextending herself.

“I’m going to sit on the deck for a while and clear my head.”

Clare slid off the stool and headed toward the side door, rubbing her grandmothers’ shoulder on the way. She slid the screen door lock and used her knee to nudge it open.

Outside the sun beamed brightly over the glistening blue water, waves crashing methodically across the jagged rocks that shielded a calmer beach. She closed her eyes as she heard kids playing and birds singing calm joyful tunes, instantly putting her at ease. She sat down on the chair and placed her pen and coffee next to her on the table and opened the notebook.

Page after page revealed another world, intent on making Clare crazy. She stopped on a dream she had months ago.

“I saw a massive pink moon ahead, slightly covered by blue smoke like clouds with bright orange light permeating behind it. It was so immense it dwarfed the colossal arched rocks and the meandering two track road winding its way through. The dead grass was yellow on either side of the tracks. I walked along the path, but nothing seemed to get closer. I walked and walked until it felt pointless and sat on the side of the road, covering my eyes with my arm. When I removed my arm, the moon was replaced with a gigantic octahedron floating rock with two perfectly cut horizontal lines on either side of the midpoint. There were blue circuitry like designs on the outside and bright blue spotlights shining from the horizontal lines. Realizing this was a dream, I lifted myself up and drifted forward to investigate. As I got closer, I could make out figures within the cracks which now looked more like balconies. I floated over the figures, watching them shine their lights to the land below, climbing higher to make out the blue designs on the rock.”

The entry ended and Clare came to the realization of what those markings were.

“They’re the designs of my jewelry!”, she exclaimed, reaching up to her chest to feel the one around her neck. “My talismans?”

They had always been made based on images in her head; intricate shapes, swirls, and symbols she didn’t think had any meaning. One of them, the first she ever made, was actually a design from the woodwork in the house. Were they for protection? Were they some kind of map? She stared off into the water trying to think of why they’re important.

“Honey?”, Grandma called through the door. “Breakfast is ready.”

After a long day of working in the garden, tending to guests, and helping her grandma clean up after everyone all Clare wanted to do was go to sleep but, that would not do. There was much work to be done, so she made her way to the stairs and up to her room. Kicking off her shoes and removing her clothes, she slid into her robe and sat on her bed. She looked at the notebook and trinket box on her bedside table. She opened the box to reveal some of her favorite designs. She studied them closely looking for anything that stuck out, anything that could be linked to her dreams. She laid back on the bed with the notebook to read some of the entries.

Before she knew it she she opened her eyes to a completely white room, void of corners and lines. It went on for what seemed like forever.

“Hello?”, her voice echoed.

She waited for an answer but nothing came so she walked to what felt like an edge but there wasn’t anything there. The white just continued, so she continued.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”, she called out again.

She could feel something in her head. A tickling sensation that was quickly getting stronger. She closed her eyes and when she opened them a blurry figure in white was walking toward her. She rubbed her eyes and looked again.

Mom? Mom, is that you?, she asked.

The words weren’t coming out of her mouth, but she knew she was saying them. What was happening?

Yes, my love. I’m finally here., her arms reaching for Clare.

Hugging fiercely, Clare put her face in her mother’s neck and began to cry.

I’ve been trying to reach you for months. You have figured out what everyone has been trying to tell you. I’m so proud of you, instantly images flooded Clare’s head.

She saw the bed and breakfast, her grandmother, the jewelry she made, the notebook, the entry in the guest log of the man who left the notebook, and the broken-down stairs.

Do you see, Clare?

Her mind went back to the stairs and the designs on the woodwork. The dark mahogany wood, once smooth and shiny, held filigree designs all throughout. There was one spot that held her attention, a round raised area with a design different from the rest. Two infinity symbols intertwined in each other were carved into the raised piece of wood, the same design above the front door she had copied years earlier when she started making jewelry.

I love you, Clare. I’m always here for you when you need me most.

Clare awakened standing on the side of the stairwell, the round raised wood and infinity symbols before her. She felt something in her hand and looked to see the pendant there. She raised her shaky hand to the wood and placed the pendant into the design and turned it. Dust billowed out of the cracks that had been created when the wood turned, and she gently pushed it forward. There was a hidden room! She quickly ran up the stairs to her grandmother’s bedroom, waking her the moment she stepped inside.

“Clare? What’s wrong?”, she quivered in her bed.

“Come with me! You have to see this!”, Clare said excitedly, ushering her grandma to get out of her bed.

Downstairs, they entered the room.

“Wow, Clare. I didn’t know this existed.”, she took pause as she glanced around at everything in the room.

Books and papers covered a small desk in the corner, gold boxes covered in dust stacked to the ceiling, an antique trunk in the center. Her grandmother made her way to the desk and flipped through one of the books laying on it.

“Clare, this was my great great grandfathers’ diary.”, she made her way to the trunk and opened it.

“Wow.”, Clare said.

Inside were stacks of cash that had to amount to over $20,000, gold bars, and coins. Antique rings, jeweled bracelets, a silver chain, and a book with the title “The Treatise of Fruit-Trees”. Her grandmother fingered through the contents, tears streaming down her face. Clare kneeled down beside her and hugged her with all her might.

“Everything is going to be ok Grandma.” Clare said, “we can fix the bed and breakfast now.”

Emotions flooded through them as they cried and laughed together, reveling in their discovery of history and hope.