The PureLights of Ohm Totem Read online

  She waited for her brother to yell or throw a pillow at her, but thankfully, all she heard was Coda's deep breathing. After what seemed to be an eternity of silence, she finally took a breath and moved toward the door, carrying her change of clothes. She crept out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind her.

  The hall closet, just outside her bedroom door, stood partially open. A bad latch that hadn't been fixed for who knows how long, prevented it from closing.

  She reached inside the closet and grabbed a towel. She took off her clothes, dropping them on the floor, and with the towel wiped the sweat off her body. She rubbed her drowsy eyes and heard her stomach growl. I’d better get something to eat, she thought, putting on her dry clothes.

  She crept downstairs and into the kitchen. The cold hardwood floors beneath her feet made her shiver, a contrast from the soft carpeting upstairs. Opening the fridge, she grabbed a large, juicy-looking red apple.

  At the sink she started her apple ritual. “A,” she said as she held onto the stem, turning the apple clockwise; “B,” she continued, and with another twist; “C”…

  “Zoey?”

  Zoey jumped, dropping the apple on the hardwood floor. It was the same voice from her dream. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she spun around. The gray wolf was standing in her living room, just beyond the kitchen.

  “Huh? Yes? What?” She felt tiny goose bumps jumping all over her body.

  The gray wolf dipped his head in respect and the violet crystal on his forehead glowed. "Please answer our beckoning.”

  Zoey quickly bent down to pick up the apple, knowing that her dad didn't like spills. When she stood up, the wolf was gone. She rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times to make sure they were still working properly. How could she see a wolf right in front of her, and then the next instant its gone? And what’s more, a wolf from her dream! I must be totally tired, she thought.

  Zoey went into the living room and switched on the light. On the backrest of a large couch was her favorite blanket, wool with black, white, and purple stripes.

  She snuggled into the couch, clutching the blanket to keep warm. On top of a large TV set stood a clock that said 2:38 a.m.. What's on at this time? Probably nothing, she replied to herself.

  Zoey picked up the TV remote and curled up against a pillow, trying to forget the dream that still stuck to her like glue. She clicked the power button on the remote and the TV suddenly blared in the silence.

  "Shoot!" she panicked, frantically pressing the volume button. "Down, down, down. There," she whispered.

  On the TV screen was one of her favorite cartoons. It was the one where she always predicted that the cat would never catch the mouse and she was always right. She stared blankly at the TV, not really watching or listening to it, lost in the dream again. It felt so real. It felt like she was really there, sitting in that tree, overlooking that strange meadow and the smell of the meadow still lingered…and the wind? Wow, she thought, the wind felt so real, too! And who was that gray wolf, and that mean-looking dragon?

  Her thoughts quickly faded when she heard footsteps coming down the stairs. She hid her eyes under the blanket, half expecting the gray wolf to show himself again. Her dad's voice echoed in the kitchen, "Who's up?"

  "Me, Dad." Zoey lowered the blanket and turned to look at him. His hair was disheveled as he stood between the kitchen and the living room in his goofy red boxers.

  He rubbed his tummy, yawned, and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. He plopped down next to her on the couch.

  "What are you doing up, Zo Zo?" He put his elbow on his knee, resting his cheek on his hand. He closed his eyes and yawned again.

  Zoey put her feet on his legs and stretched out. "I had a bad dream…I think," she mumbled, looking at the TV.

  "What?” he said in an irritated voice. “Stop covering your mouth when you talk. You do that all the time and I can't understand you."

  "I said," Zoey’s voice became louder, "I had a bad dream—I think."

  "Oh." He opened his eyes. They were bloodshot from lack of sleep. "How bad was the dream?”

  She put her head down as if in thought. "Well, it was a good one and a bad one."

  "How can you have a good dream and a bad dream at the same time?"

  "The first bit," she said, with her right hand over her mouth and her left hand holding the uneaten apple, "was good, and the last bit of the dream was bad."

  Her dad reached over and gently moved her hand away from her mouth. "Why do you do that?"

  “Do what?” She knew what he was going to say, but pretended she didn’t.

  "I don't teach you to mumble and I don't think your mother does, either."

  She shrugged her shoulders. She didn't feel that mumbling was a bad thing, and didn't like her dad pointing it out.

  He sighed and stood up. Zoey's feet fell from his legs, onto the couch. He reached his hand toward her. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

  "I can't. My bed is all wet."

  She had again mumbled, but her dad could make out some of the words. "It's wet? Did you pee in the bed?"

  She looked at him with disdain. "No, Dad, it's my sweat and the bed’s all wet from it. I'll just sleep on the couch."

  Her dad yawned loudly and scratched his stomach again. "See, when you look at me I can hear you." He crossed his arms, continuing, "And, no, you aren't going to sleep on the couch. I'm too tired to make your bed. You'll sleep with us tonight."

  Zoey smiled. “Okay.” She had hoped her dad would offer that, knowing her parents would protect her from anything and everything, including dreams.

  “Thanks for not getting mad at me for watching TV this late, Dad,” she mumbled into her hand.

  Her dad rolled his eyes, “What?”

  Zoey shrugged. “Never mind.”

  With that, he turned off the TV set, and scooping Zoey off the couch, carried her upstairs. Now being a twelve-year-old, she was getting heavy.

  “Goodnight Zo Zo,” he said, slightly out of breath as he placed her in the bed between him and her mom, who was sleeping soundly. He kissed Zoey on the forehead and turned onto his side. Within moments, she could hear his quiet, comforting snores. She felt good and safe now. Maybe she’d even get some sleep.

  She closed her eyes and took slow, steady breaths, feeling her wakefulness fade as the slippery slope of the dream realm began to take over. Her breaths became deeper and the rhythms of her body gradually slowed, giving her much needed rest.

  Suddenly, off in the distance and far below, she saw hundreds of furious animals—tigers, elephants, lions, badgers, coyotes, and more—charging out of a huge, thick forest, toward a gigantic white pyramid.

  She saw her brother standing on a platform in the middle of the pyramid. A long staircase led up to it. He was facing the oncoming onslaught. He held both hands in a fist, waiting for what was about to come.

  A large, shadowed entrance arched behind him. A white leopard with black spots walked out from the shadows and stood at his side. The leopard had violet crystals, just like the wolf.

  Then the leopard nudged Coda’s hand with her muzzle, and looked up at him with bright blue eyes. “We must fall back.”

  Coda looked at the leopard, then back to the oncoming animals. He nodded, placing his hand on top of the leopard's head.

  They walked through the entrance, disappearing from Zoey's view. As they did, the hoard of animals raced up the stairs, toward the doorway Coda and the leopard had just passed through.

  Just before she could see what happened next, the scene faded into a gray mist and large red eyes appeared in front of her. The eyes made her body feel like ice, shooting fear into her and temporarily paralyzing her.

  She wanted to get away from this nightmare as fast as she could, but her body just wouldn't, and couldn't, budge. She felt like she was suffocating, as if someone held her lips together and plugged her nose at the same time. She couldn't breathe! Doing her best to gasp for air, to
push away the haunting red eyes staring at her, she frantically struggled against the energy holding her down. She tried to open her eyes, willing her body to move, but nothing. She felt the beat of her heart slow down, pumping heavy, thick beating sounds into her ear. Her eyes started rolling back in her head as she began losing vital life. Her body was being controlled by something, by someone. She wanted to grasp her throat, to do something to get this terrible feeling to go away, but her arms and hands just wouldn’t work.

  “You don’t get off that easy, Zoey!” came a low, growling voice, echoing in her mind. “You stay alive until I say otherwise. You are released!” The red eyes faded, making her go from the dream state to grayness, and then to waking up. She opened her eyes, heard herself scream, “No!” as she broke free from the invisible energy that held her down. Her breaths came quickly and heavily, giving life back to her body, relief flooding her senses.

  “Huh?” she said as she sat up. She looked to her mom and dad. They were peacefully sleeping as if nothing had happened. Slowing down her breathing, she told herself it was just another nightmare, one that would never come back. Glancing at her parents once again, she shook her head. So much for their protection.

  Chapter 2

  Coda was asleep in his bed. His head was facing the window and the crook of his right arm rested over his eyes—his favorite sleeping position. He was breathing deeply, as if in a pleasant dream. Suddenly a loud screech, like that of an owl’s, filled his ears. Startled, his right arm slammed against the window. The screeching got louder and louder as he clamped both hands over his ears. Then, like turning off a light, it stopped.

  He heard a voice in his mind. “The owl's screech will protect you. It's a warning of approaching attackers. Tomorrow your journey begins.”

  “What the heck?” grumbled Coda as he sat up, rubbing his arm. The mid-morning light poured through the window, making him squint to see what was outside making that screeching sound.

  He searched the leaf-covered oak trees growing next to his window, but could only see small finches singing and flying from branch to branch. He looked over the street, half-thinking he’d see a kid playing with a blow horn, but saw the usual kids riding bikes or laughing and chasing each other across green lawns. He shook his head, hoping to get the residual ringing out of his ears.

  “Zoey?” he called, wondering if she had heard the loud screech or the calm voice that had spoken to him. He leaned over the railing, peering down at an empty bed. The sheets were off, revealing a bare mattress. Where is she?

  Getting out from under his covers and climbing down the ladder, he glanced over at his Lego creation he had made the night before. His stomach lurched when he saw the pieces scattered all over the bedroom floor. Coda scowled and bared his teeth. “Zoey! I told you not to play with my stuff!”

  He looked at the Winnie the Pooh painting on the wall as both of his bare feet touched the carpet. It was a picture of Christopher Robin standing next to a tree in Winnie the Pooh’s forest. All of the characters were surrounding Christopher Robin, waiting to hear one of his stories. It was his favorite picture and the forested scene always calmed him down when he looked at it, though he’d never tell a soul.

  His door opened. “Stop yelling, please.” His mom stood in the doorway with a serious expression on her face that soon turned into a smile.

  “Don’t you look handsome with your hair all sticking out everywhere.” She ran her hands through his brown hair and drew him in for a hug.

  Coda’s blue eyes shone with the love he felt for his mother. He wrapped his arms around her waist and sighed. “Mom, why doesn’t she leave my stuff alone?”

  Coda’s mom looked at the mess on the floor. “You’ll have to ask her yourself. She’s downstairs eating cereal.”

  Coda lifted his arms up in disgust. “She doesn’t even ask.” He rolled his eyes as he walked out of the room, almost dragging his legs in disappointment. He’d spent hours creating the perfect city of houses, buildings, gas stations, and more. It was his best creation yet. Though, in the back of his mind, he always wondered if he was getting too old for this stuff. Maybe this disaster was a good thing…still, she was annoying.

  “Be nice to your sister,” his mom chided as she followed him, closely behind.

  As he walked down the stairs, he placed his hands on the smooth railings of the old staircase to catch himself just in case the stairs decided to collapse, exposing a bottomless pit below. He knew it would probably never happen, but it could. He always wondered how long he would fall down into that bottomless pit. Forever? He could land on floating bottomless pit islands and have adventures with two-headed monsters, battling the evil sword king, who had a screeching voice that...

  The screech!

  He stopped in the middle of the staircase and turned around to his mom. “Mom, did you hear that loud sound this morning?”

  His mom shook her head and tapped her forehead with her index finger, trying to recall if she heard anything. “Loud sound? I don’t think so. What kind of loud sound? When did you hear it?”

  “Um, I don’t know. It woke me up. It was like a scream. A bat scream or something?”

  His mom giggled, “I don’t think bats can scream, but I could be wrong.”

  “Well, it scared me. Maybe it was…”

  “A dream?” asked his mom. She nodded toward the kitchen, gesturing for him to keep walking down the stairs.

  Coda opted to walk backwards, looking behind him as he grasped the railings to make sure he wouldn’t fall. Then he continued to walk backwards, even into the kitchen.

  “I could still hear it when I was awake,” he continued.

  His mom sat down at the table in the small dining room that attached to the kitchen. She glanced worriedly at him for a moment, and then picked up a magazine she had left open on the table. She scanned through the pages, stopped, and silently read something that was obviously the utmost of importance. Her lips moved as she read, and a crease formed across her brow. Her focus on the magazine wasn't a good sign. It meant that his mom really didn't think that the screech was a serious matter, and didn't want to hear any more about it.

  Deciding it was probably just a crazy dream, Coda shut his mouth and opened the cupboard next to the refrigerator, and looked at the cereal boxes. The chocolate puffs and fruit flakes looked really enticing.

  He grabbed the chocolate puffs and placed them on the counter. He saw Zoey out of the corner of his eye, eating cereal and watching a cartoon in the living room. He casually ignored her.

  “So, it wasn’t a dream then?” asked his mom, still nose down in her magazine.

  Surprised that his mom still wanted to talk about it, Coda paused, looking to his left as if remembering the sound. “It was like what I said. The sound was loud, but it rang in my ears for a while after I got out of bed. And then I heard a voice in my head tell me not to fear, or something like that, and that my journey will start tomorrow.” He began to feel silly after saying it out loud.

  “Oh,” said his mom, giving a flicking motion with her hand, dismissing the topic. “Then I guess you shouldn't worry about it. But,” she looked up with concern, “do you still hear the ringing in your ears?”

  Coda shook his head. “Uh-uh.” He opened the fridge and grabbed the milk. “It was so, so loud, though.” He poured the chocolate puffs into a bowl on the counter. He picked up the milk and turned to his mom. “Mom, you sure you didn’t hear it?”

  His mom looked up from the article. “I'm sorry that the dream was scary. I've never heard you talk so much about a dream before. It must have been intense.” Her eyes turned back to the article. “And plus, if the dream was correct, you get to go on a journey tomorrow. Wouldn't that be fun?”

  Coda knew she was trying to make him feel better, but that just didn't do it.

  He took a deep breath and poured the milk into the bowl, grabbing a spoon out of the drawer. It couldn't be a dream, he thought.

  He sat at the dining room
table next to his mom and looked at the clock in the kitchen. "I've slept past eleven?"

  "Yup. That's not like you. Zoey has already dressed, been outside, and back again for her second serving of breakfast.” His mom closed the magazine and put it down on the table. “You missed Michael, too. He was looking for you.”

  Coda's mom glanced at Zoey sitting on the couch, eating her breakfast and singing to herself, garbling words as she chewed. "She's at least eating in the morning. That’s a relief."

  Coda remembered that it was just last year that Zoey had stopped eating breakfast, complaining of stomach aches. She’s such a faker. Always wanting attention. He had noticed that since that time she was always looking at her skinny figure in the mirror, checking her backside and stomach. He wanted to tell his parents that she just wanted to be skinny, like the fashion models on TV, but he held his tongue. If she didn't like to eat, that was her problem, not his.

  A loud clunk from a shutting door upstairs interrupted Coda's thoughts. "Dad's up," said his mom.

  Coda's dad came down the stairs still in his rumpled red boxers, and wiping the sleep from his eyes. He yawned out loud, stopping to scratch his back, looking a little bit like a monkey. Then he looked at Coda and his wife before he took a big stretch, standing on his tiptoes, and reaching his arms toward the ceiling. He smiled at Coda. "Good mornin', buddy!"

  "Hey Dad,” replied Coda.

  Coda's dad walked through the kitchen to the dining room table. He kissed the top of his wife's head and reached over to ruffle his son's hair. "It looks like a nice day today. You gonna ride your bike or something?"

  Coda laughed, pushing his dad’s hand out of his hair. "Well," he shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know…can I play on your computer?" Coda asked, hopefully.

  His dad scratched his head. "Uh, okay. Only for about an hour, though, then you're outside."