• I’VE SPENT FIFTY YEARS TRYING TO CHANGE IT. AND
ALL I CAN DO IS CONTROL IT—SOMETIMES.
Driving
You might already be aware of the hazards of driving. Perhaps you’ve had a rare incident. And you’re still alive. But because of the stray possibilities—even with the windows closed, I must add—you are a time bomb.
It’s happened before.
You’ve seen it in the papers, haven’t you?
Somebody blacks out on the highway. Crosses the line. Kills a family of three in the oncoming lane.
Dream catchers. Catching, by accident, the dreams of the sleeper in the car next door. Right through the glass windows of both cars. It happens.
It has happened.
And I’ve never forgiven myself.
Don’t drive.
You risk not only your life, but the lives of innocent others.
You can ignore me.
I’m asking you not to.
If you wish to continue, please turn the page.
4:53 p.m.
Janie—shaking, crying, remembering the school children—continues.
Side Effects
This is the hardest section. If you make it through this, you are done.
And maybe you won’t think it’s as bad as I made it out to be. I hope for that.
There are several side effects of being a dream catcher. You’ve experienced the caloric drain by now. It gets worse as you age.
The stronger you are, the more prepared you are, the better you’ll fare.
Have nourishment with you at all times. Dreams are where you least expect them.
The more dreams you enter, the more you can help people. This is true; it’s the law of averages.
But for a dream catcher, the more dreams you enter, the worse the side effects.
The faster you decline.
You must work at controlling which dreams you enter.
Practice pulling out of them, as I explained in the many files of cases I’ve participated in.
Study them.
Practice the moves, the thought processes, the relaxation exercises.
However, you must realize by now that it’s a catch-22. Because the more practice you get, the harder it is on your body.
You must choose your dreams carefully, if you choose to use your gift to help others.
Or there is the alternative.
Isolation.
If you isolate yourself, you might live a normal life…. As normal as isolation allows, of course.
And now.
You can still stop reading here.
Your last chance.
5:39 p.m.
Janie looks away. Reads that part over again. Her head is pounding.
And she continues to the bitter end.
Quality of Life
I knew, personally, three dream catchers in my life, besides myself. I am the last one alive. At the time of this writing, I know of no others.
But I am convinced you are out there.
I’ll tell you first that the handwriting in this journal is not from my hand. My assistant writes to you in this book, because my hands are gnarled beyond use.
I lost the function of my hands and fingers at age thirty-four.
My three dream-catcher friends were thirty-five, thirty-one, and thirty-three, respectively, when they could no longer hold a pen.
That is what these dreams are doing to you.
6:00 p.m.
Tears stream down Janie’s face. She holds her sodden sleeve to her mouth. And continues.
And finally.
What I see as the worst.
I was eleven at the time of my first dream catch.
Or at least, that’s as far back as I can recall.
The dreams came few and far between at first, as I expect they did for you, unless you shared a room with someone.
By high school the number of dreams grew.
College. In class, the library, walking across campus on a spring day…
not to mention having a roommate. In college dreams are everywhere.
Some of the worst experiences you’ll ever see.
And then, one day, you won’t.
You won’t see.
Because you’ll be completely, irreversibly, heartlessly blind.
My dream catcher acquaintances: Twenty-three. Twenty-six. Twenty-one.
I was twenty-two.
The more dreams you enter, the sooner you’ll be blind.
You suspected already, didn’t you.
Perhaps you’ve already lost some of your vision. I’m so sorry, dear friend.
Choose your profession wisely.
All the hope I can add is this:
Once you are blind, each dream journey you take will bring you back into the light, and you will see things in the dreams as if you are seeing them in life.
These dreams of others are your windows. They are all the light you’ll see. You will be encased in darkness except for the dreams.
And since that is the case, I ask you, who would not live for one more dream? One more chance to see your loved one as he ages, one more chance to see yourself if he dreams of you.
You don’t have a choice.
You are stuck with this gift, this curse.
Now you know what lies ahead.
I leave you with a note of hope, and it is this: I don’t regret my decisions to help others through catching dreams.
Not a single instance would I take back.
Now is a good time to sit and think. To mourn. And then to get back up.
Find your confidant. Since you are reading this, you have one. Tell him or her what to expect.
You can get to work. Or you can hide forever and delay the effects. It’s your decision.
No regrets,
Martha Stubin, Dream Catcher
Janie stares at the book. Turns that page, knowing there’s nothing more. Knowing it’s not a joke.