Trillian the dreamer

  “He visits in a dream,” Cole said. “Go to sleep.”

  He trotted over to a canopy, walked across an embroidered rug, and sank onto a decadent mattress. Cole worried that, with the urgency of the day, he might have a tough time settling down. Those cares soon dissolved, and his eyelids drooped.

  Cole was back home in his bedroom—his bedspread, his books, his jeans on the floor, one pant leg inside out. A cup of water sat within reach on a paper towel. He picked it up and took a sip. He could faintly hear a television in another room.

  He went to the window and peered out. The morning sun was too high for a school day. Saturday, maybe?

  “Are you ready?” Trillian asked from behind him.

  “Is this supposed to relax me?” Cole asked, waving a hand at his room.

  “Perhaps,” Trillian said.

  “Or make me homesick?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Or show me what I can have if I win?”

  “There could be many reasons,” Trillian said.

  Cole glanced toward the hall. “Are my parents here?”

  “They could be,” Trillian said. “It would consume time. And it would not be entirely real. We can talk anywhere you wish.”

  “The beach was good,” Cole said.

  With no perceptible shift, they were back on the beach. Sizable waves crashed before them. Lukewarm sand greeted Cole’s bare feet.

  “You enjoyed the beach in Miami,” Trillian said. “I prefer more tranquility.”

  “It’s great,” Cole said. “Where are the others?”

  Violet and Lorenzo appeared.

  “I was orienting Master Debray,” Trillian said.


Chapter 31