with illusions and hallucinations. The comforter tossed one minute, then coveted for warmth the next.
Ice. Sweat. Ice. Fire.
I drifted out of my being. In my dream, I got up, stumbled to the garden shed, where I found a spade. And staggered into the undergrowth, dragging the spade behind me like a corpse. The moon, a thin crescent and no more, barely lit my way—chilly, with only a smattering of spangled stars to guide me, instinct my only chaperone. I found the spot and dug all night. An owl observed me, its eyes round and keen as if he understood, and then he spoke, his hoot letting me know I’d done what I had to do to protect myself. “Things are not what they seem,” he said. He flew off, the movement of his wings more silent than the still air.
Where had I heard an owl say that before? And then I remembered I had it wrong:
“The owls are not what they seem.” I spoke the words from Twin Peaks, out loud, repeating them over and over, remembering my three-dimensional dream. These words made more sense than anything so far.
I lay in bed for days. At least, it seemed that way.
It was Jen who finally woke me. Leaning into me, her breath close to mine, the back of her hand soft on my puffy, putty-like cheek.
“She’s finally awake,” Jen whispered. I fluttered open an eye. Dan, Kate, all on the edge of my bed, and I could feel the weight of Beanie curled up asleep by my feet.
“You’ve been sick,” Jen let me know. She handed me a glass of water. The water was coolish, but not too cold, the way they knew I liked it. Icy water is a killer on the teeth. You can take the girl out of Britain but you can’t take Britain out of the girl. No ice. Marmite. Crisps. Fish & chips. Heinz baked beans. Tea and milk. These were my homesick, feverish thoughts as I gulped the water down without stopping.
“You were humming a tune in your sleep,” Jen said.
I rubbed my eyes.
She scrutinized me with her stare. “‘Teddy Bear’s Picnic.’”
I looked blank.
Jen sang:
“If you go down to the woods today
You’re sure of a big surprise.”
My pulse picked up speed at the little song. Have they dug it up, found the spot in the woods? I’d snap in two, unravel, disintegrate. I couldn’t keep myself together. I willed myself to stay calm, not let her know I was fazed. Pretended to ignore her words and concentrated on gulping down all the water I could without vomiting. I must have been dangerously dehydrated.
I tried to haul myself out of bed. “Why have you locked me up?”
Dan rested his leonine gaze on me. His muscular arms reminded me how strong his body was compared to my weedy little frame. He looked tough. Uncompromising. My left ankle still throbbed like a beating heart. “Are you over your little episode now?” he said with a sneer.
“My little episode?” I yelled. “You lot locked me up!” I turned my aching neck around to take in my claustrophobic surroundings. But I was back in my real bedroom. Had I imagined being in the laundry room all along? I drew in a grateful breath, my thoughts picking at the details of the last few days. Outside, it was getting late, the sunset a menacing purple, edged in black, the rain slamming at the great glass walls, thunder rumbling. To see a view again, and not just blank white walls, made my vision smart. I remembered the owl, but my dream was so far off in the distance, I couldn’t catch it back.
“Do you feel better now?” Jen asked.
Brushing damp locks of hair from where they were sticking to my chapped lips, I rasped, “Why did you lock me in the laundry room?”
Dan let out a “You’re crazy” chuckle. Then Kate said, “We would never do such a thing. You were having bad dreams, you imagined it.”
I needed backup. I’d send Pippa an SOS, call the cops. “Where’s my phone?”
Nobody answered.
“Where’s my fucking phone?”
Kate shrugged a shoulder. “Who knows? And even if we could find it, nobody’s phone is working anyway right now. The storm. No landline. Cells are down. Internet’s down.”
Jen brushed her hand across my dripping brow. “Do you think you could manage a little dinner?”
“I’m just thirsty,” I croaked. “I’d kill for a Coke.” They looked at each other knowingly, their faces dead serious. My choice of words echoed