Chapter 3

I woke from the dreams, misty-eyed and confused. None of those faraway places and the treks that were associated with them made any sense to me. Dizzy, perplexed, and somewhat sweaty from the dreams, I attempted to puzzle them together and place a name to the boy. To no avail, though, I failed miserably. They were disjointed concerning reality, vague and juxtaposed hallucinations of sorts while I slept. Sometimes I tried to fit the dreams together, piece by piece, but there was no rationale to how they united. A boating trip to Madagascar had no relation to Cape Cod whatsoever. Nor did a limestone quarry in Bloomington, Indiana, have any correlation with the three rivers that blended together in Pittsburgh. The dreams were a mystery to me and left me perplexed, but they seemed harmless, almost uneventful, and nothing out of the ordinary, if the truth be told. 3: Stephen and Ira