Dream Master
by Dory Lee Maske
Smashwords Edition
Copyright © 2009 by Dory Lee Maske
All rights reserved
Illustration © 2009 by Robert Maske
All rights reserved
Cover design by Robert Maske
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Dream Master
Once upon a time in a very young world there lived a boy who would not go to sleep at night. As much as his mother read him stories or gave him milk to drink his eyes stayed open. He was afraid to go to sleep because he knew the dream monsters would come.
One night he was so tired he closed his eyes for a minute and fell asleep. Just as he feared, the dream monsters soon arrived. This time he was in a train. It was dark and he was in a cold boxcar. He could sense quivering forms in the dark corners of the car. He tried to scream but no sound came out. He tried to run but his feet were like lead. They would hardly move. He slept in terror and woke up more tired than before.
At school the next day the boy kept dozing off. Once he hit his head on the desk and woke up to find everyone laughing at him.
The teacher said, "Bobby, you must pay attention."
At recess one of the bigger boys teased him and said, "Bobby is a baby, he still needs a nap."
Bobby walked away and sat alone in the grass.
That night Bobby would not go to sleep. He pretended to go to sleep until his mother left, then he sat up and stared into the darkness. After many hours his eyes closed, just for one second, and he was back in the boxcar. He could feel the hot breath of the phantom shapes around him. He saw skeletons lurking in the corners waiting to attack. He could hardly breathe. They were coming toward him.
He turned to run and tripped over someone or something sitting in the boxcar. As he fell away from it he saw the face of an old man. The man looked concerned. The boy forgot about the monsters for a moment and listened as the man cleared his throat.
"It's not usually my policy to interfere in dreams," he said, "but I've been asked by certain parts of your body to look into your refusal to sleep."
"Who are you?" the boy asked.
"I'm the Dream Master," the man said.
Bobby looked at the man carefully. "What does a Dream Master do?" he asked.
"I'm not 'A' Dream Master, I'm 'The' Dream Master, -- only one of me. I design dreams according to a person's needs. I guess that would be a fair explanation of my job."
"I'm sure I need dreams that are going to scare me to death," Bobby thought without replying.
"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I read thoughts. It's part of my job. So you can reply by thinking or speaking, as you prefer."
Bobby was a little surprised at this and decided to test him. "What did I just think?" he asked.
"You questioned the value of a dream that only seems to be scaring you, but dreams are often like that."
Bobby's thoughts turned angry. "Why can't I decide what dreams I want. Why do you have to do it?"
The man looked concerned again and bit his lip a little. "This is so difficult to explain. You do decide what dreams you want. I only design them."
"Are you going to sit there and tell me I want these dreams?" the boy asked.
"Yes," the Dream Master said.
The boy thought for a moment and then said slowly, "Then why don't I want to go to sleep at night?"
"That's why I'm here now, isn't it?" said the Dream Master. "Perhaps there is a way to work this out."
"I would like to hear that," thought Bobby.
The Dream Master looked around the boxcar and his glance fell on one of the skeletons. The skeleton seemed quite passive now and a little curious as to the outcome of the discussion.
"Is it this particular skeleton who frightens you?" the Dream Master asked.
"Not really," said Bobby, who was now too angry to be afraid.
"Ah, this is progress," the Dream Master said, "What about that fellow up there?"
He pointed to a phantom greenish shape hovering near the ceiling.
Bobby looked up at the shape, more curious than afraid, for the first time. It had two dark hollows that looked like places where eyes should have been and a transparent floating body. It looked very much like an empty Halloween costume.
"Well he is kind of scary looking. What is he after anyway?"
"Just ask him," the Dream Master said, "it's your dream."
Bobby stared at the Dream Master and back at the monster. This was the strangest dream he had ever had.
The phantom shape began to look uncomfortable under Bobby's scrutiny. The boy raised his hand to touch the shape and saw that it retreated. He stood still for a minute and then quickly swung at the shape with his hand to see if it had any substance. The shape gave a little shriek and darted into the shadows.
The Dream Master smiled at this and said, "I can see things are going well here now so I think I will excuse myself."
Bobby found himself alone again in the boxcar. The monsters began to close in on him and he felt his fear returning. The skeleton, so passive a minute ago, looked evil and threatening. Bobby stared at it and tried to control his breathing. The skeleton took a step back. Bobby took a step toward it. The skeleton looked for a way to escape.
Almost before he knew what was happening Bobby was kicking and hitting at the skeleton. Bones flew in every direction. Other skeletons jumped out of the boxcar shrieking as they jumped.
The next morning Bobby woke up amazed at his dream. All that day he felt wonderful. He kicked the ball so hard during recess he made a three-base run and won the game for his team. One of the girls in his class told him she never knew he was such a good kickball player. Bobby thought often of his dream and each time he smiled. He could hardly wait to go to sleep.
That night he became Monstro Man in his dreams. He found he could fly. When the monsters closed in on him he took to the sky. Sometimes he clothed himself in a great cape made of purple feathers and a headdress of yellow feathers. He would get a little running start, spread his cape of feathers and float on currents of air. He practiced turning this way and that to control his flight. Flying dreams were his favorites. If the monsters pursued him through the air he would turn and fight.
During the day Bobby was happy. Sometimes he would daydream during class, pretending to be Monstro Man. He imagined terrible monsters and himself as Monstro Man flying circles around them or fighting them in battles that he always won. Sometimes he would not hear what the teacher was saying and once she called on him while he was daydreaming. The children laughed when she had to call his name three times to get his attention.
At recess he was becoming a hero to his team. Each time he was up to kick they clapped and shouted. He was a strong kicker. Some of the bigger boys began to take notice of him and were annoyed. They began to call him Baby Bobby whenever they saw him. Bobby tried to ignore them but it wasn't easy.