Can You Get Stuck In A Lucid Dream
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“You can get stuck in a lucid dream,” Penny said. “It’s called an out-of-body experience.”
I stared at her, not sure if she was joking or not. It didn’t seem like it. She looked serious enough for it to be true. I hadn’t heard of anyone who had done that before, but maybe there were others who did the same thing as Penny and could move their bodies from inside their dreams.
That would mean they wouldn’t die when they fell asleep because they’d wake up. The idea sounded crazy, but I couldn’t say so with Penny staring at me expectantly.
“How do you know this?” I asked. “Have you ever tried it yourself? Have you read about someone else doing it?”
Penny shook her head. “No, but I have read about people getting stuck in a lucid dream. They describe it just as I told you. It happens suddenly; one minute they’re sleeping peacefully and then the next, they are awake yet unable to move. And then they realize what happened—that they aren’t really asleep anymore and now they don’t even remember how they got into the dream.”
She paused briefly. “There is also something called sleep paralysis. People who have been awakened from sleep often feel paralyzed. This feeling of being trapped in bed while still being able to think and see everything around them lasts until they fall back to sleep again.”
The room spun slightly. “That must happen to you all the time since you’ve been waking up in strange places.”
Penny nodded. “Yes, it does. Sometimes it takes hours for me to regain my senses once I’m back home. Other times it only seems like seconds, but either way, I always find myself on unfamiliar ground.”
“Do you think you can tell me more about this sleep paralysis? Maybe we should talk about it over breakfast. We’ll need to eat soon anyway.”
Penny smiled faintly. “I guess so.” She took another bite of the muffin, chewing slowly.
We finished eating, washed our dishes, and walked outside where Penny went straight to her horse. As I helped her saddle up, I thought about what she had said earlier about having no memory of leaving town.
If she woke up on unfamiliar ground every night, then it meant she never returned to her own house unless she stayed awake the entire day. Yet she seemed well rested and alert most mornings. How could she stay awake so long?
Maybe she found some other place to hide herself away during the daylight hours. But if so, why leave her horse behind? Why ride the poor animal hard all through the night instead of letting it rest? Unless she had planned to return to town sooner than expected.
Then I wondered if she had been riding all night without telling me. Had she known all along that I might try to follow her? What if I had missed her trail? Would I lose her entirely?
I mounted my own horse and followed Penny down the street toward town. It was almost noon by the time we arrived at the hotel. Most of the guests had left for lunch, and the ones remaining sat quietly reading newspapers or chatting with friends.
The men played cards on the porch and drank coffee. Some of the women played checkers and talked among themselves. All of us stopped whatever we were doing when Penny came inside. I watched Penny carefully as she made her way across the lobby. Her eyes flicked here and there, searching for something. I wondered what she was looking for.
Her gaze landed on a young man standing near the door. He stood apart from everyone else, his back turned to her, but he looked familiar somehow. His face wasn’t recognizable, but I knew him. It was the man who had brought her to the jailhouse.
The one who had shot me. The man whose name I couldn’t recall. Now I remembered the reason Penny had looked so nervous when she saw him: she was afraid of him.
He looked directly at Penny, smiling. “Good afternoon, Miss Penny.”
My heart jumped, and I pulled on my reins to stop my horse. Penny halted beside me, her expression blank. No one else moved, and no one spoke. Not even the woman playing checkers noticed our arrival.
“Hello,” Penny said cautiously. “I hope you’re enjoying your lunch.”
He stepped closer. “Actually, I am very hungry, and I would appreciate it if you would join me for a meal. My name is Grant. Do you mind?”
I felt sick. Penny obviously didn’t care whether she joined him or not. She merely nodded and started walking toward the dining hall. I nudged my horse forward, following Penny as quickly as possible before anyone else could notice us.
Once inside, I led her to a table against the far wall. After ordering two meals, I waited patiently for her to finish. When the food finally arrived, I ate mine first, knowing she wouldn’t be able to resist tasting hers after seeing what I’d ordered.
Once I finished, I wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Now you may start yours.”
Penny took a bite of a ham sandwich, chewing slowly as she stared out the window. A moment later she set her sandwich aside and picked up her glass of iced tea. “You seem troubled.”
“Troubled? About what?”
“Why do you ask?”
“It’s obvious you aren’t happy. You look tense and unhappy.”
“Is it obvious to you now? Or did you know already?”
“Of course, I knew. That’s why I asked if you are upset.”
Penny sighed. “Well, maybe I am a little bit worried, but nothing serious. This is just one of those things that happen sometimes, isn’t it? Nothing to worry about.”
I sipped my iced tea while Penny continued to stare out the window. Finally, she lowered her head in apparent frustration. “If only I could remember everything I’ve done since arriving in Kansas. Just knowing how to get around would help.”
“What makes you say you don’t know how to get around? You rode into town last week.”
“That’s true, but I still feel lost. And this morning, when I came to pick you up for breakfast, I got hopelessly lost. I spent half an hour trying to find the right street and ended up miles from where I should have gone. Maybe that’s why I’m feeling uneasy. I’m not used to getting lost. It seems like such a simple thing. Only I can’t seem to learn.”
“But you’ve been riding all over town. Surely you haven’t gotten lost once.”
She shook her head. “No, never. At least not yet. Sometimes I think I see a road, and I’m sure I know which direction to go, but then I realize I’ve been mistaken. Other times, I make a wrong turn and end up somewhere completely different. I hate it!”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” I suggested gently. “You’ve only been in Kansas for less than a month.”
“A month! How long will it take me to adjust? I don’t understand why I’m having such trouble adjusting. There must be something wrong with me. What if there really is something wrong with me? What if I can’t adapt to life here? Will I ever be normal again?”
I leaned close, lowering my voice to match hers. “There’s nothing wrong with you, Penny. You’ll soon forget how strange you feel. Don’t let these small problems bother you.”
The words sounded convincing enough, but they weren’t entirely true. Her inability to adjust might stem from something deeper—something I couldn’t fix. Still, I needed to convince her otherwise. I wanted to protect her. But protecting her meant letting her believe that everything was fine between us. I wanted her to trust me; I just wished she trusted herself.
“How much longer until we arrive?” she asked.
“Not much longer,” I lied. “We’re almost there.”
She looked confused by my answer. “Almost where?”
“To the ranch house. We’ll be there soon.”
After finishing her second iced tea, Penny returned her empty glass to the waitress and rose. “Do you need any assistance finding your room tonight?” I asked.
Her face brightened slightly. “Yes, please. I’m so sorry, but I’ve forgotten its exact location.”
With another nod, I led her down the hallway and through a door at the rear of the building. Inside, Penny walked to the left, passing several rooms until she reached mine. The door stood open, and she paused outside it before stepping inside.
I followed her and closed the door behind me. Once we were safely inside my room, Penny turned toward me, looking uncertain. She seemed to be waiting for something. Then she pulled her hat off, revealing her short brown hair, and dropped the brim onto the floor beside her shoes. “May I sit down?” she finally said.
“Sure, you may sit.” I watched her remove her jacket and hang it on a nearby chair. While she undid the buttons of her dress, I opened a bureau drawer and removed the key I had tucked inside. “This way.” I stepped past her and pointed to the bed. “Sit down.”
As I sat across from her, Penny eyed me curiously. “Are you going to tell me who you are?”
“Who I am?” I repeated, unable to hide my surprise. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I met you last night—”
“Last night?” I interrupted, remembering our conversation in the saloon. “You mean after dinner? You talked to me after supper?”
She nodded. “At the bar. You were sitting with the men, drinking whiskey, and I overheard them talking about a woman named Miss Penny.”
“I was only drinking water. No whiskey.”
“Water doesn’t sound very exciting to me.”
I smiled as I took a sip from my own glass. “It wasn’t. Why did you ask who I was?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you, that’s all. I didn’t expect anyone else to join you.”
“And what would you have liked to talk about?”
Penny shrugged and lifted her shoulders. “Oh, anything. Nothing in particular. Just conversation. That’s all. Conversation. To pass the time while waiting for my friend to finish his business.”
“Your friend?”
She nodded. “My traveling companion.”
“Ah, yes, the man I saw you riding with this morning.”
Penny lowered her eyes. “He’s not my traveling partner. He’s my husband.”
***
“What?” My heart skipped a beat. “That can’t be right. You’re married? You’re married? Married?”
“Of course I’m married. What kind of question is that?”
I tried to catch my breath. “Well…you told me earlier today that you’d come out west alone. And now you say you’re married…”
“I didn’t lie. I came out west without a man because I wanted to. It’s none of your concern who I chose to marry.”
“But—”
“Please stop asking questions.”
“But you didn’t tell me that you were married.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous. I never mentioned my marital status or my marital history.”
I felt dizzy. “Then how could you possibly be married? Did you get married back east?”
“No, no. I got married out here.”
“Out here? Out here where?”
“Wherever we happen to be at the moment. I married him yesterday afternoon. After lunch. At a small chapel near town.”
“Yesterday?”
“Yes, yesterday. Don’t make such a fuss over anything. If I’m married then I’m married.”
“So you rode into town, picked up some poor fellow, married him, and rode out again? Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am,” Penny replied. “Just like that. A marriage license and a few words exchanged. That’s all it takes these days.”
I stared at her incredulously. “A marriage license! Who gives you a marriage license? Where do you apply for one? How much does it cost? Do they issue one for an hour? For five minutes? For thirty seconds? Can I buy a certificate online and print it myself? Or will I have to go to the county seat and wait in line for hours to obtain one?”
“Don’t be absurd.” Penny leaned forward. “The county clerk issues them for free. As many as people wish to purchase. In fact, he makes money selling them.”
I shook my head slowly. “How is it possible that you weren’t aware that you were married until this minute?”
“It just happened. One minute I was single, and the next—poof!” She waved her hand dismissively. “There I was.”
“Didn’t you ever think to check if you were married before leaving home?”
“Not really.”
“You should have thought about it.”
“Think about what?”
“Whether or not you were actually married. Whether or not you had any rights under the law. Because legally speaking—”
“Legally speaking?”
“Yes, legally speaking you’re married, which means you’ve given up certain rights and privileges. Like claiming property.”
“Property?” Her eyes widened. “Property?”
“In other words, you don’t own a thing.”
Her face turned pale. “Do you mean I can’t claim the deed to this house?”
“Technically, no.” I paused, realizing something important. “Except maybe that hat on your head. Maybe it’s yours.”
“Maybe it’s mine.” She pulled off the hat. “Who owns this house anyway? The owner? Or the bank? Is it owned by the bank?”
“I believe it belongs to the bank.”
“Which means…”
“Meaning you might not own the house. But you certainly pay rent.”
“Rent?” She frowned. “Why would I pay rent?”
“For starters, because you’ll probably lose the house in a couple years when you can’t afford to keep paying the mortgage. Then you’ll need to find somewhere else to live.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Neither do foreclosure proceedings or eviction notices. Which are also part of the package.”
“When did you decide to become an attorney?”
“Last night. When I learned that you hadn’t been honest with me about your marital status.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“I guess I forgot to ask.” I looked at the clock on the mantel. It read eleven o’clock. Time for bed. I rose from the chair and stretched. “Are you ready to turn in?”
“Sure, why not? I’m tired after riding all day. I bet I sleep like a log tonight.”
“Goodnight.” I headed toward the door, but she stopped me.
“Wait.”
I glanced back at her. “Yes?”
“Can I see your room?”
“What?”
She smiled. “Your bedroom. May I look inside? Just once, mind you.”
I shrugged. “If you insist.”
We went upstairs and entered the front hall. I opened the first door and stepped aside. Penny stepped through the doorway. “Wow. You sure have a lot of books. And pictures. And knickknacks. What are those little silver balls hanging on the wall?”
“Oh, those are called bells.”
Penny nodded. “Very nice. They add a nice touch.”
I shut the door behind us and led her down the hallway. We passed the study and the library where we spent our time reading. Next came the sitting room, which included a fireplace, piano, and sofa, chairs, and end tables.
All were very tastefully decorated, except for the ugly painting that hung on the wall above the fireplace. I wondered if Penny knew about it. I’d seen the picture during my initial inspection. I guessed she must know since she often played there while I practiced on the piano.
The painting depicted a woman dressed in black holding a baby. The mother’s hair was dark brown and curly, and so were the child’s. But the father’s features were white and smooth-shaven. I suspected that it was meant to depict Penny’s parents.
But I couldn’t imagine how the artist could have gotten his hands on such an accurate likeness of Penny’s mother. After all, her mother wasn’t known for her beauty. At best, Penny’s mother was pretty ordinary. Certainly nothing special. So why would anyone paint such an unflattering portrait? Was it an attempt to embarrass Penny?
The only other bedroom on the second floor belonged to me. It was larger than Penny’s and more elegantly furnished. A king-size bed filled one side of the room; dressers, nightstands, and a large chest occupied the rest of the space.
Two windows overlooked the street. I tried to make the room as comfortable as possible. I even added a rug, curtains, and a few lamps. Nothing too extravagant.
But Penny seemed to appreciate it. She walked over to the window and stared out at the moonlit landscape. “This is beautiful,” she said softly. “So peaceful.”
I joined her and peered into the darkness. Moonlight bathed everything in silvery light. The trees swayed gently, their branches waving in the breeze. An owl hooted somewhere far away. There was no sign of any animals. No horses or cattle. Only the occasional cow.
Not much different than the prairie outside of town. Except for the occasional deer herd. But they never wandered close enough for us to spot them. I watched the stars twinkle overhead and wondered what it would be like to watch them every night instead of looking at a dirty ceiling.
I thought of my ranch, of the mountains that surrounded it, and I missed it already. I wished I could go home. Back to my place. To the land where I belong.
“It looks…so peaceful here,” Penny murmured. Her voice sounded wistful.
“I hope it stays that way.” I turned to face her. “Now that I’ve told you about my divorce, I assume you want to leave now. Before I change my mind.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I should stay until tomorrow morning. That way you can get some sleep. I’ll take care of the chores and cook breakfast.”
“You’re sure you won’t run off with the money before then?”
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll stick around. If you really need someone to help you search, you might consider hiring a detective. Or maybe just asking Miss Stearns to keep an eye on things for you. Why didn’t you tell me about your troubles sooner? I would have come up with something.”
I sighed. “Because I didn’t want you to feel obligated. I figured you wouldn’t want to do anything to jeopardize your job.”
“Well, I guess you’re right. I’m sorry. This whole situation has been unpleasant for both of us. Let’s forget it ever happened.”
I glanced toward the window again. “It’s getting late. You better turn it in. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Okay.”
As she left the room, I took one last glance at the painting and realized Penny was right. Something terrible must have happened between my wife and daughter. My heart ached when I remembered my son, Matthew, and wondered what he’d been doing these past eight years.
I hoped he hadn’t gone to live with Penny’s family. He would have grown up without me. And I certainly couldn’t afford to pay for him. What would happen to him next? Would Penny’s family adopt him? Maybe they did. Maybe he lived nearby. I decided not to dwell on the subject. For now. I had more important matters to attend to. Like finding the murderer.
The End