A More Magical Experience

I wake up with a start, my breath heavy in my lungs and sweat pouring off my face. Immediately I sit up and grab my face, scared. I try my best to calm myself, try my best to slow my drumming heart. After a minute of holding my face, I wipe my forehead with an arm.

And nothing hits me.

I look down at my arm and see nothing. No yellow crystals, just skin. My fingers find themselves running over the skin of my arm, feeling it softly before pressing harder. Nothing but flesh. I bring my hands to my shoulders and feel the same thing. No pauldrons of crystal, just bare skin. Shocked, I look down at my feet, finding hem covered. I throw off the blanket and stare at the smooth skin on my right foot.

No more crystals.

I manage to bring myself back to the situation at hand. But there is no situation. I look around and take in my surroundings. And my heart begins to race once again.

I'm back in my room. I'm sitting in my bed at home. The plaid sheets underneath me are drenched in sweat, but that hardly matters. I look around again. My stuff is all here. My action figures of Neil Armstrong and his space set are still on the shelf across the room. My authentic space helmet, my posters, my books on astronomy, the hole in the wall from when I tripped on my own feet trying to tie my shoes and head butted the drywall... It's all here. I swing my feet over the edge of the bed and feel the dirty green shag carpet underneath.

And there, at the far side of the room, is the sliding glass door that leads to my balcony. Sitting right there with my chair is my telescope. I get out of bed and walk over to the door and unlock it. It slides open easily, so I move outside and stand before my most prized possession. Gingerly I reach a hand out and touch the edge of the scope. Cold. Metal. Real. My tape recorder and notepad are still sitting on the small deck table I have out her as well.

A loud buzzing makes me jump, and I spin around. But it's just my alarm clock. A smile grows on my face as I waddle over to it and turn off the alarm. A second later, a loud banging noise makes me jump again. I look to the door.

It creaks open enough to let a thin strip of light flow through from the hall. "Maverick, come on, it's time to get up."

The gruff voice brings tear to my eyes. I walk over to the door and open it all the way, showing a large man in a blue bathrobe. His slim bit tall figure gives him an athletic look that he doesn't possess. His angular chin matches mine, though you can't see it through his finely trimmed blond beard. His yellow hair is wet and dipping into his eyes, covering the mole he has right above his left eyebrow.

I can't help the tears that slide down my face. "...D-dad."

"Who else would it be Mavie?" my father says with a smile. I wipe my eyes with my hand before stepping forward and pulling him into a hug. "Woah there Mav, what's this about?" he asks, but it doesn't prevent him from squeezing me back.

"Nothing Dad," I say into his robe. "Nothing... J-just a bad dream I gueh-hess."

My dad rubs my back for a second. "There, there... A dream can't hurt you."

"T-tell me you won't ev-ever leave me."

My dad puts his hands on my shoulders and pushes me away for a second. He looks me in the eye, and I can't help but stare back into his. "Maverick, I'll be around as long as I can. And while I am, I will never leave you or your mother." He brings me back into another hug as I start to sob again.

~ ~ ~ ~ ———— ~ ~ ~ ~

I don't tell Dad about my dream. It seems so far fetched now. But I mainly don't tell him because I don't remember much. And I'm also afraid that if I tell him what I do remember, I'll remember more, and I don't want that. Right now, I just want to forget about the whole thing and get on with the day.

At the moment, I'm sitting at the kitchen table and Dad is at the stove cooking flapjacks. It's a rare thing to see his special flapjacks, but after holding me while I cried my eyes out like a baby for almost ten full minutes, he thought this would be a good way to bring me out of my stupor. A moment later, Dad brings me a plate with three of his thin and rubbery masterpieces, as well as two small bottles of cherry and maple syrup.

"That must have been some nightmare to get you like that," Dad says as he sits down with his own plate. He takes a sip from his coffee the same time I do. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Yeah Dad, I'm sure. I just wanna forget it and move on."

"Alright then," he says before sipping his coffee again. A second later he snaps open a newspaper and lays it in the middle of the table. "It's Friday today, you remember what that means, right?"

Friday is the day that my music class at school walks around the school perimeter practicing our march like band class does. And yes, music and band class are completely different. Every Friday, my dad comes out to watch us in the parking lot, since Friday and Saturday are his days off. Not to mention, it's perfect that he does because music class is my last period of the day, so I go directly to him when we're done, head down to the malt shop and grab ourselves a shake while we talk about the week.

"Yeah, I know Dad." I look down at the flapjacks before reaching for the cherry syrup. "Thanks for making breakfast Dad."

"No problemo Mavie."

~ ~ ~ ~ ———— ~ ~ ~ ~

The bus ride is slow as the weather outside drears on. It started raining as soon as I set out the door, so I hurried over to the bus and hopped on. Like usual, I was greeted with "Hey ya wanker!" and I took my regular seat in the rear of the bus next to my friends Richy Goldman, a tan skinned, golden haired fella with a knack at water sports, and Dierdra Renminsky, a dark-haired, pale-skinned girl who loves her poetry. The three outcasts all bundled up. I was never popular, what with my liking to stare into space and nothing else. Richy was 'too cool,' as he said, for those stuck up kids at the top of the food chain, but in reality he rambled a bit too much for anyone to really like him. And Dierdra... well, let's just say that no one in England is as pale as she is. Kids left her alone 'cause they didn't want to catch whatever she had. She's not sick or anything, Dierdra is just a bigger shut-in than I am.

The quietness of our group puts the three of us on edge. Richy starts picking at the seam of his white tank-top and Dierdra tries to smooth an imaginary wrinkle out of her black dress. "So Ricky," Richy says as he claps me on the back, "what's been going on? You've been quiet today, Rick." Richy likes to call me by the last part of my name so that we sound like brothers. Richy and Ricky.

"I've only been on the bus for a few minutes Richy," I counter.

"Yeah, but even then you say something."

"I said hello."

"He's right, Richy," Dierdra chips in. "He did say hi."

Richy rolls his eyes. "Whatever." He turns his attention back to me. "So, mind if I borrow your homework today? I need to study real quick for the biology test in third period."

I sigh as I reach into my backpack and pull out a few papers. "You're hopeless, you know that Richy?"

He snatches the papers from me. "Yeah, well, that's what I got you guys for," he says as he pulls Dierdra and me into a hug. "The mermaid, the vampire, and the alien! One big happy family!"

I snicker. "Wouldn't you be a merman?" Richy lets us go and puts a finger to his chin. He then closes his eyes half-way in friendly amusement and slaps me in the back of the head. "Ow..."

"Yeah," Dierdra says as she pulls Richy's arm back around her, "and who are you calling a vampire? I don't bite... Much."

"Whatever you say Dreary Dee," Richy replies as he leans his head back to stare at the ceiling. Dreary Dee is his nickname for Dierdra, and she hates it. If no one knew she doesn't like being called that, then her socking him in the gut right now would make it obvious. "Jeez Dee, how can a scrawny little thing like you have such an arm?" Richy complains as he holds his stomach.

She huffs at him. "Just because I don't go outside doesn't mean I don't work out."

"Tell me about it." He groans again, but straightens up. "So, what about you Rick? What's been going on since we saw you yesterday?"

I look out of the window and up at the cloudy gray sky. "...Nothing. Nothing at all."

~ ~ ~ ~ ———— ~ ~ ~ ~

First period flew by. Writing was always a boring subject, but at least all we did was read. Second period... not so much. Gym is not my strong suit. Running laps around the gym because it's too wet outside to go out on the track. After my tenth lap, I was ready to collapse, but the gym teacher, Mrs. Herdlon, wouldn't have it. Straight to the floor to do fifty push ups. I hate gym.

So, after a quick shower, I slunk into third period with a wet mess on my head. I never dry my hair after gym 'cause it helps me cool down. Mr. Smith, my engineering teacher, doesn't like it when I come in with wet hair. He says it smears my papers when he hands out assignments, but he's never been able to not read my handwriting, so he let's it slide.

Right now, the lights are off in Mr. Smith's room as we watch a movie on the overhead projector. I'm not paying much attention to it. I just keep thinking about this morning, all what happened to me in my sleep. The lightning, the castle, the crystals... It all seemed so real. It felt real. The cuts, the scrapes, the fur on those...

I shake my head and return to the movie. Even though I can't focus, I'm still taking notes on it. Like I'm supposed to. Like the class is supposed to. I look down at my notes and continue writing. And every so often I pause and erase what I had just written and try again. Eventually I give up and doodle at the bottom of the page. All the doodles turn out the same; a crescent moon.

~ ~ ~ ~ ———— ~ ~ ~ ~

"Thanks for letting my use your notes Ricky. I feel like I aced that test." Richy, Dierdra, and I are all siting together at the lone table in the corner of the cafeteria right now, enjoying lunch. Friday means mashed potatoes and gravy, chicken strips, corn, and a small gelatin cup. With his food gone in an instant, Richy is taking the time to chat us up. "What can I do to repay ya?" he asks as he steals a chicken strip from Dierdra's tray.

"Just let me have them back before lunch is over," I answer through my mouthful of corn. "Biology is my fifth period you know, so I need them back."

"Lunch just started and you can only think about class?" Richy leans so far back that he falls off his seat and ends up on the floor. Instead of getting up, he puts his hands behind his head. "You are a grade-A nerd."

Dierdra looks down at him. "If he wasn't such a nerd, you wouldn't be getting such good grades from mooching off of his homework."

"Good point," I hear from the floor. A second later my homework slides onto the table. "Still, we have twenty minutes until fifth period and that's all you can think about."

"Hey man, I have a B average to keep up," I say back at him. "I have to do good in school."

"For Faust's sake, dude. You need to relax." My head shoots up and turns downward to look at my friend.

"What did you say?"

"I said you need to relax, dude," Richy repeats. "You work too hard."

"...Right." I return to my lunch, chewing silently as Dierdra and Richy talk to each other.

~ ~ ~ ~ ———— ~ ~ ~ ~

I hurry along into seventh period, happy to have the day so close to being over. As I shuffle into the large music room with the rest of my class, I notice the white board is clean. Normally our teacher Ms. Mundie has the thing covered in black marker explaining what our plan for the day is. I shrug and take my seat. There are no desks in the music room, just plastic chairs with metal legs that allow for easy moving to clear the room when we need. All our instruments are locked in the other room, but since today is Friday, we normally pack them up and take them home with us for their routine cleaning.

Having to buy the instrument you want to play was a bit expensive, but totally worth it. I am not putting my mouth an another instrument's mouthpiece if I don't know where it has been. But still, having a case for it and everything, even a special cleaning rag, it makes my instrument feel like it's truly mine. I can't wait to take my—

My thoughts are interrupted by the bell ringing. And right as it ends, a woman walks through the door and shuts it behind her. She's a bit on the tall side, having to duck slightly to enter the room. Her hair is died blue that's so dark it's almost black. Her blue button-up shirt looks freshly pressed. Same with her blue skirt. Dark blue slip on shoes cover her feet, and she's wearing a pair of pantyhose. That's really uncommon for such rainy weather today. A pair of short gold-rimmed reading glasses sits on her nose. A gold chain hooks from the hinges of her glasses and makes a complete loop around the back of her neck so if they fall off her nose, they won't be on the floor. Honestly, she looks like a cross between a secretary and someone in the military.

She gives us a warm smile. "Good afternoon class. Ms. Mundie is home sick today, so I'll be filling in for her." Our substitute walks over to the white board and pick up a marker. In bid cursive writing, she write out her title. "I am Mrs. Knightly, and I shall be teaching you today."

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Knightly," says the whole class, myself included.

Mrs. Knightly smiles again and walks over to the podium in the front of the room. A chair is behind it, and Ms. Mundie always sits in it so she can stand when she needs to compose. Mrs. Knightly picks up the small packet thats resting on the podium.

"Hm... Well it says that every Friday is the day that was march around the school while playing our music, am I correct children?" The class nods and answers accordingly. "Alright. Seeing as how it's so dreary outside, I don't think we'll be doing that today." She looks back up at us. "Well, seeing as how that is the case, why don't we have some sort of a free day?" She reaches underneath the podium and brings out a stack of paper. "Why don't we all take a page from this stack of sheet music and practice a bit on our own, eh? You can group up if you want, or you can work solo. Just make sure to have fun."

After that, everyone got their instruments from the room as soon as Mrs. Knightly unlocked it. The rest of the class paired up in teams of threes and twos, so I find myself in the corner with my sheet music alone again, sitting next to the marimbas and the piano. I caught a music stand on my way over here, and right now I'm trying to adjust it to where I can see the notes on the sheet without having to turn much. Satisfied, I turn back to my instrument case and flip its latches open.

Inside the black case, sitting on red velvet lining, lays my most expensive possession besides my telescope, but that's besides the point. The brass of my instrument still holds a shine after a few days of being man-handled. Delicately, I take my saxophone out of its case and test each on of its triggers, and give it a test puff. A low note emanates from the pipes, and it makes me smile.

"Why are you over here all alone?" I look up from my sax and see Mrs. Knightly standing next to me.

I look back down at my sheet music. "I always practice alone, Mrs. Knightly."

"Well that's no fun," she says. Mrs. Knightly pulls up a chair and sits next to me. "What's your name?"

"Maverick."

"Well, Maverick, why do you alway practice alone?"

"I don't know... I just do."

Mrs. Knightly shakes her head. "Well, you can't play a duet by yourself." I look over my sheet music again. "What page numbers do you have?"

"Um, pages sixty-three through sixty-five."

She nods and stands from her seat. Mrs. Knightly walks over to the podium, grabs a few papers, then returns to my side. This time, she moves her chair over to the piano. "How about I start, and you follow?"

I look at the music in front of me. "Um... okay?" I take another experimental toot on my saxophone, then return to the sheet music. I've never seen this song before, but that has never stopped me before. I silently hum out the notes to myself for a second, then nod. Licking my lips, I take a deep breath. Mrs. Knightly takes that as a sign and starts to play the first notes. I follow her after a few notes.

Her fingers gently press down the keys of the piano while mine do the same to my sax. Our notes combine and echo off of each other, making us seem slightly louder than everyone else in the room. I try my best to hit the right notes as my instrument takes over lead, and all the while Mrs. Knightly provides the perfect backup. I quickly take another silent breath as I begin the next string of notes.

Time seems to stop as we play, and I can feel myself relax at the sound of our harmony. The note just fly from my saxophone, reaching for the ceiling where they mix and mingle with the gentle sounds the strings of Mrs. Knightly's piano makes. The rest of the class stops their own music to listen to ours. It makes me feel... good. Very good. Playing my sax always makes me feel wonderful, but now, as Mrs. Knightly and I play together, it feels so much better.

My fingers press down, and more notes escape. Mrs. Knightly does the same, but her glasses fall from her nose and come to a rest on her bosom, hanging from the gold chain around her neck. It doesn't impede her music-making. We play together in perfect harmony almost as if the music is coming right from our souls. I put a bit more force behind my breaths as we reach the next part of the song, making my notes a bit louder. Mrs. Knightly follows my lead and presses down on the keys with more force to match my change in volume.

We play out the rest of the song as one heart, her piano complementing my sax in such a way it starts to make my eyes water. I'm having a hard time seeing the notes on my paper through my tears, but I keep playing. This music is so much different from when I played alone. It sounds happier, even though the song is more soothing than exciting.

Our duet comes to an end, and I take the mouthpiece from my lips. I look back at Mrs. Knightly, who smiles warmly. And then the applause comes. I turn back around and see all the other student clapping their hands, all smiling at us, at me.

Mrs. Knightly take my cheek in her hand and turn my head to face her. "You don't have to be alone, Maverick. You have so many friends... You just have to see them for yourself." She let's go of my face and puts her glasses back on her nose. "We are working hard for you right now. We are worried about you."

"Why?" I ask.

"Because you are unique," she answers. "By the Maker, I've seen so much of you in such a small time... It's hard to believe you could hurt anything." Mrs. Knightly puts a hand on my shoulder and brings me into a hug, which I gratefully return. "I've looked into your heart, and I see you wish no ill will on anything. You have a loving home, good friends, and a wonderful life. And regardless of where you stand right now, you still have a good life. Don't let go of that."

I nod into her shoulder and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. "...Thanks Mrs. Knightly. I won't."

Mrs. Knightly smiles at me and stands. Slowly, she begins to walk back to the podium at the front of the class. I look at the saxophone in my hands, then back at her.

"...Mrs. Knightly?"

She stops and looks back at me. "Yes, Maverick?"

I wipe my eyes again. "...When will I wake up?"

The smile never leaves her face. "...You really are a smart kid." The room around us fades to black, leaving just me and Mrs. Knightly standing in an abyss of nothingness. And then, one by one, little lights begin to pierce the inky blackness around us. Soon, the whole scene is covered with stars and galaxies. "...How did you know?" Mrs. Knightly asks me.

I float closer to her, the saxophone still in my hands. "Because I always mess up on my first try at a new song."

Mrs. Knightly chuckles. "Yes, no dream is completely like reality." She then looks up at me and takes her glasses off. "See you when you wake, Maverick."

I nod and smile back. "Yeah. See you then."

The stars extinguish and Mrs. Knightly fades away into the nothingness. I look down at myself and see the yellow gems on my forearms again. I'm back in my boxers, floating is space. It's not so bad. And then the nothingness begins to take me as I laugh. "At least I got to play again," I say as my legs disappear. I look around into the darkness around me. "...I'll get back to my life, Mrs. Knightly. I'll live my life. And I'll never let go of it."