7
My bedroom is dark and cool. Moonlight filters through the wavy glass, casting a soft glow over my bed. It’s nearing midnight and the longest day of the year is coming to a close.
Outside the winds kick through the trees, rattling the branches. They answer to the rumble of thunder, a far-off growl echoing down the mountains and across the lake.
I’m in bed. The cool sheets rub against my bare legs and the crumple of the light gold duvet catches the moonlight. Except for the wind and the far-off thunder my bedroom is silent.
Usually, the old stone tower room has a sleepy, walled-off-from-the-world feel. But tonight there’s a breath-held expectancy riding through the dark. It mirrors the air outside, where the trees and the grass and even the wind wait for the coming rain.
I shift, leaning back against my pillows, and the scent of lavender flows to me. Next to me, on my nightstand, the watch sits unopened in its wooden case.
I stare at the ceiling, the darkness pressing down on me. I’m wide-awake. An electricity curls through me, keeping me from sleep.
I tap my fingers against the bed.
I stretch my legs across the cool sheets.
I roll over.
I punch my pillow.
Thunder rumbles, grumbling over the lake.
I kick my blankets loose.
I roll onto my side.
The gold latch on the box catches the moonlight and winks at me.
Oh, for goodness’ sake.
It’s just a watch.
I mean, it’s the watch. A historic piece of great significance. But all the same, it’s just a watch.
It isn’t as if it can make dreams come true.
Per se.
But what if it could?
I roll onto my back and let out a long sigh. Rumbling thunder responds.
If it could . . .
What exactly would I dream?
There’s a whisper in my heart, almost too quiet to hear.
I think about my mum, telling me she knows I don’t dream anymore. Telling me I need to find myself.
I think about Daniel, pushing me to open up.
I think about Mila, how above all things I want her to always know love.
And then I think about the day I let my dreams die.
The whisper in my heart grows louder, then thunder hits, cracking like a gunshot.
I flinch, the noise ricocheting through me.
“Enough,” I tell myself, consciously relaxing the tension clenching my muscles.
It’s enough.
It’s just a pocket watch.
I’ll either dream or I won’t.
It’s not as if dreams are reality. It’s not as if dreams come true.
But . . .
What could it hurt to try?
Nothing will happen. Except maybe I’ll have a nice dream. A pleasant, peaceful, restful sleep full of lovely dreams instead of the recurrent cycling of nightmares.
Decision made, I reach over to the wooden box and lift the lid. The velvet is as dark as the night sky and the gold glows in the moonlight. The glinting metal seems to vibrate under the light. I reach forward and scoop the watch free.
It’s heavy, solid, and warm in my hands. The deep blue watch face soaks up the moonlight and the second and hour hands stand still.
Slowly, breath held, I wind the watch. The metal twists between my fingers, and then, surprisingly, the watch begins to tick.
I let out a whoosh of air. It works.
I set the date and time. The twenty-first of June. 11:48 p.m.
Outside the rain begins. It falls across the window in a slow, tapping patter.
I lie back and pull my blanket to my chin, letting the scent of lavender and the weight of the blankets comfort me.
The drumming rain, the wind, and the rumbling thunder roll over me. I sink into my mattress and close my eyes.
In my hand I clutch the warm round pocket watch. Its ticking is a heartbeat keeping time.
In the quiet of my mind I whisper, Dream.
I fall asleep to the music of rain.