Advise

Chase leaned back in his chair, looking over at Lisa, who sat wide-eyed, focused intently on him. She hadn't interrupted, merely sat listening while he went through the events of the dream. However, as soon as he had finished, he instantly wished he hadn't called her about it in the first place. While Lisa loosely believed in God, she also was a believer in the importance of dream symbolism and the meanings of the stars and planets.

She'd gone through great length to explain that he was born under a new moon, which meant his heart and mind were in alignment or some such thing. However, she, as a full moon child, was constantly combating herself which was why things had gone the way that they had for her. Chase had been through this type of discussion with her a couple dozen times or so, and mentally prepared himself to go through it yet another time as Lisa took in a large breath to prepare her speech on the subject.

Chase put little, if any stock in the supposed science of dreams and astrology, at least not in the way that it was presented by much of the New Age crowd. He did believe that dreams were important, but only as a sign of things to watch out for, or a way for the mind to process stress or traumas. He didn't put any belief into the ideas of imagery that supposedly represented society or insecurities, which some people claimed was a true science.

Lisa reached forward and grasped his left hand with both of hers as she launched off.

"Well bridges in dreams have a deep symbolism to them. Since it was over water, it means you are usually creative and lax, which is true."

Chase resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, all this dream interpretation today reminded him of the old newspaper horoscopes, designed to be broad and appeal to as many people as possible to seem insightful and accurate.

"You said it was raining and rough? That means you're worried about something."

"Lisa, I'm not worried about anything, except this dream."

"You only think that. The worry is in your subconscious. Now think, what's been concerning you lately?"

Chase did his best to end this line of the conversation gracefully, although it took four full attempts before she backed off of the topic. However, he eventually found success in asking about her business. Lisa owned two franchises of a gas station chain, and had found marginal success in running them. Chase was honestly just happy that she'd found something that worked out for her, although getting a discount at her stations was a nice boost too.

"Oh it's been going great," she said, smiling brightly. "We just hired two new guys at the one in St. Peters. Personally I don't know about Jacob. He's a typical high school kid, you know the type: just interesting in money for parties and the like. However Harry seems he could make it, and I told you that Daniel's made manager now?"

Chase nodded, trying to recall.

"It's Foster, right? His dad was supposed to be involved in a lot of ministry work from what you told me last time."

"That's the one. I'm glad he's finally back, he and his dad went camping last month. A week and a half with no technology whatsoever, I can't imagine. He said he had fun and I'm just like: if that's what's important to you, do it. Still, he's a good kid."

"Well, I'm glad it seems like he's doing well. Seems like he's trying to get some stuff set up for himself."

"Honestly, I'm just glad he stopped smoking. I think I'm going to have to start doing drug tests for corporate and I'd hate to lose him over something stupid like that."

They managed to talk for another hour or so, and Chase made sure to steer clear of his dream, or his sleep problems. Instead focusing on things like his work and the state of politics, including the impeachment attempts that had been started back in January, yet were still somehow dragging on.

When he finally left the coffee shop and said goodbye to Lisa, he felt quite exhausted. He loved his sister sincerely, but talking to her was more tiring than running a few miles. Still, he climbed aboard his bike and began the trek back to his house. As he walked in the front door, it was barely seven in the evening, but he was so exhausted that he decided to shower and sleep without trying to finish the commission that night.

As he lay down on freshly-laundered sheets, he let his weariness and comfort overtake him and he was asleep almost as fast as his head hit the pillow.

Before Chase could even open his eyes, he already knew where he was. The rain, carried by the wild winds, slapped him in the face as the cool air around him caused him shiver involuntarily. He had no coat, only his hoodie on him as he instantly began to sprint down the length of the bridge, ignoring the cars and trucks honking as they passed him.

He resisted the urge to shiver as his tennis shoes pounded rhythmically on the poured-concrete path. He'd never made it, not once in all the time he'd had this nightmare. Tonight would be different. He heard himself screaming, but couldn't hear what he was shouting over the gale of wind.

It was stronger now, practically blowing him backwards. He could hear the tornado sirens going off in the distance, but did his best to block them out and kept running as best he could against the wind.

The rain was pouring down even harder now, making it difficult to see and soaking him through to the skin. As he tried to take another step a gust of wind blew him sideways and he was forced to clutch the metal railing to avoid the risk of slipping over into the deep rushing waters he couldn't even see, but knew existed down there.

Growling slightly, Chase gritted his teeth and redoubled his efforts, moving forward slowly, but steadily. Step by step, foot by foot, he made his was out towards the center of the bridge. Then, the sky let out an angry crack and a blot of lightening struck the ground, momentarily illuminating the world around him in a bright blue hue of cracking electricity.

He saw her, poised on the edge of the bridge, looking out across the abyss of a drop she meant to take. Chase yelled out to her, but knew she couldn't hear him. Instead, he kept moving. Her shoulder-length brown hair was a wild mess, blowing about in the gale like a flag in the wind. Even in this storm he could tell that she was weeping from the way she stood, her shoulders shaking a way that cold couldn't cause.

He shouted again, growing closer, but she still did not turn to him. Slowly, she lifted one leg up and over the railing, than the other, resting her feet on the inch or so of concrete on the other side. Chase moved with everything in him and could practically hear his legs protesting in anger.

He reached out to her and, for the first time ever in one of these dreams, she turned to look at him. He saw the deep blue of her eyes and then her eyes widened, whether in surprise or fear, he couldn't tell, maybe both. Then she stumbled and half-jumped half-fell off the bridge. Chase collapsed to the ground, feeling the cold wash over him and he could hot tears on his cold cheeks.

He awoke, sitting up instantly, his body fully ready to fight off whatever had disturbed him. But it was only his bedside alarm. He reached out, slapping the top of it until the ringing stopped, noticing as he did so that his hands were shaking slightly.

Chase had never seen her eyes before. He knew logically that it didn't really mean anything. After all, scientifically speaking, none of his dream meant anything. It was just his brain processing something. However, he couldn't get that thought of his head. He'd never seen her eyes before, but last night… he'd seen them.

They'd been in clear focus and detail too, even more real than the walls of his apartment around him were at this very moment. It was as if they'd been burned into his mind's eye and he couldn't shake it.

Shaking himself violently, as if he were a dog attempting to dry itself, Chase got out of bed and walked to his dresser, pulling on a pair of jeans that were so splatted with paint it was impossible to tell what color they might've originally been, and a shirt to match the pants. These had been the primary set of clothes he used to paint his physical pictures and the years left them steadily more and more defaced until they could've been a modern art piece all their own.

Not bothering to cook anything he head straight to the easel, spreading out the small tarp beneath it to keep the carpet from getting stained. It was rare that Chase painted for himself anymore. When he was in high school, he'd painted things from himself all the time. Many of them had ended up getting thrown out after college, either by himself or his father.

Still, his hands knew what they needed to do and he began setting up his base colors, not even considering what he would need, his mind already knowing without having to consult him. He moved almost on autopilot, painting the woman's face: the woman who he kept dreaming out, who he had never spoken to, who by all rights might not even exist, and who he couldn't get out of his mind.

His afternoon tea with Mrs. Hoffman came around three that afternoon, and while Chase had at least thought to change out of his paint clothes, he could feel that there was some white paint on his temple, pulling slightly at the hair there. However, Mrs. Hoffman either couldn't see it or was gracious enough to pretend she couldn't.

"So Chase," she said, stirring her tea to disperse the insane amount of milk and sugar she'd just poured into it. "Why don't you tell me what's been going on with you?"

He considered her question for a long second before he actually responded. He wondered whether he should confide his dream to her. Mrs. Hoffman had always been good to him, and he felt a connection with her as a sort of second mother in a way. He ended up decided that it couldn't hurt in the end, and began to explain his dream.

Mrs. Hoffman was a better listener than Lisa was. She didn't interrupt or stop his explanations. She merely listened and sipped her tea, but her eyes were bright and attentive. When Chase finally finished his experience last night, she nodded, placing her cup on the coaster next to her.

"Well Chase, it sounds like you already know what you have to do."

Chase raised an eyebrow.

"Not really. This is just a dream I can't shake."

"Because you're not supposed to. You've always been too focused on the future. Just keep this woman in mind and when you need to do what you need to do, you'll know."

Chase bit his lip softly, pondering her words. He couldn't deny he liked her answer in theory, but he didn't know how much that would help in the end. He really didn't fancy the idea of having this dream for the next several years.

Still, as time passed on, he slowly became more at ease with what Mrs. Hoffman had said. Time marched on, seeming to move faster than it had been. Before he knew it, the week was gone. Then another. Then May gave way to June, and July 4th had come and gone.

It was July 15th before anything seemed to really happen to him again, and it would be every bit as impactful as his dreams had been.