Nightmare

Nightmare

Caleb was on the plantation-- except that the barn was missing, and where the pump had been was one of the tables from the lab classroom he usually taught in. The sky was a muted blue, and the sun was nowhere to be seen. The house was stripped of whitewash, the gray old wood exposed. Caleb walked around the side of the house, feeling the dried-out grass beneath his bare feet. The fields looked as though they hadn't been plowed in years, and there were no houses beyond them.
I'm not in Mississippi. This isn't home; I must've gotten lost...
He continued around the side of the house until he found the pecan tree. George Freeman and Nathaniel Dawson were hanging from it, with flies buzzing around their faces. Tobias Fowler stood on a ladder that was pushed against the tree, picking pecans. Caleb approached the tree slowly, feeling his mouth dry up.
%u201CYou're here,%u201D his father said, without looking down. %u201CGood.%u201D
Caleb stopped, rooted to the ground, and gaped up at his father.
%u201CPick the good ones up off the ground,%u201D his father said. %u201CUse that bucket there.%u201D he gestured vaguely in the direction of the ground, where there was indeed a metal pail.
Caleb didn't move. His father turned on the ladder and looked at him, with one eyebrow raised. %u201CWell?%u201D
%u201CWhy?%u201D Caleb said.
His father leered at him, then reached out and pushed George Freeman a few times, as though he were pushing a child on a swing. %u201CYou want to come up here?%u201D
Caleb felt himself draw back.
%u201CI didn't think so,%u201D his father said softly. He climbed down the ladder then, retrieved the pail and came towards Caleb. He pushed the pail into Caleb's hands. %u201CHere. Go on, now. Before they rot.%u201D
Caleb looked past his father, at Nathaniel and George. %u201CWhat are they doing here?%u201D
%u201CFertilizer.%u201D
%u201CI...%u201D Caleb stared around the plantation. %u201CI shouldn't be here.%u201D
%u201CBut you are here.%u201D
%u201CNeither should you.%u201D
%u201COn the contrary, son, I shouldn't be anywhere but here.%u201D His father knelt down and began picking pecans up off of the ground. %u201CIf you won't help me, at least hold that pail down so I can reach it.%u201D
%u201CYou're dead.%u201D Caleb said.
%u201CAnd you're damned. Hold it lower.%u201D
%u201CI know that, sir.%u201D
His father looked up at him sharply. %u201CNo, you don't. You just think you are.%u201D He stood up and stepped forward. Caleb wanted to take a step back but he couldn't. %u201CYou think you're damned, but you don't know.%u201D He rapped a knuckle against Caleb's chest. %u201CYou don't know, not in your bones. Do you?%u201D
%u201CI have a good idea.%u201D
His father sneered. %u201CGet a better idea. Go look in the smokehouse.%u201D
%u201CSir?%u201D Caleb said incredulously.
%u201CIt's just there,%u201D his father said, pointing.
The smokehouse was where it had always been; it looked like it had always looked. Caleb gave the pail back to his father and went over to it. He reached for the handle on the wooden door, and hesitated. He looked back at his father, who was watching him, unmoving. He looked past his father, at George Freeman and Nathaniel Dawson, hanging. He looked up at the sunless sky. He opened the door.
There was a hissing sound, and all of a sudden something sucked him into the smokehouse, and sucked the door shut behind him. Everything burst into flames: huge, lapping, persimmon-colored flames, engulfing the small building. There were flames under his feet, his hair and cloths caught fire, burning him like the branding iron a thousand times over.
Oh no... No, please, Lord. Please! Oh God please--
%u201CCaleb!%u201D
His eyes flew open and he sat up, shaking. His hands flew to his head, his bare chest, his legs. His lungs spasmed in his chest and he was covered in sweat. %u201CF-fire...%u201D
%u201CCaleb, wake up! Honey?%u201D Grace flipped on the bedside lamp. She ran her hands through his hair, touched his face. %u201CThere's no fire. Okay? There's no fire. It was just a dream. You're here with me, in Ireland. Remember?%u201D
%u201CI c-c-can't b-br-breathe,%u201D he pulled his knees up to his chest and hugged them.
Grace, nude, leapt out of bed and began rummaging around the room, picking things up and putting them down again, picking through their suitcases. %u201CJust a second... Caleb, sweetheart, you're hyperventilating. Can you try and take a deep breath and hold it? Can you do that for me?%u201D
Caleb breathed in, but was gasping for air again after a few seconds.
Grace found the paper bag filled with the new razor and shaving cream they had bought the day before, dumped it's contents on the dresser, and ran back to the bed. %u201CBreathe into this, Honey.%u201D
He had no idea how long they sat there, him breathing into the bag with his eyes closed; Grace running her hand through his hair and up and down his back, whispering %u201CShhh....%u201D and %u201CThat's good, keep breathing... good.%u201D
Finally he lowered that bag and leaned his head against hers. The clock on the wall told him it was just after four.
%u201CI'm sorry,%u201D he murmured.
%u201CDon't be sorry. There's no reason for you to be sorry.%u201D Grace kissed him.
%u201COf course there is. I woke you up over some fool thing, acting like a damned child--%u201D
%u201CCaleb, you had a nightmare. That happens to everyone.%u201D She kissed him again, and put her arms around his shoulders. %u201CDo you want to tell me about it?%u201D
%u201CI was on fire,%u201D Caleb said. He pecked her forehead and gently pushed her arms away. He stood up, found his pajama bottoms, and put them on. %u201CDo you remember where my undershirt got to?%u201D
%u201CUmm...%u201D Grace looked at the floor on her side of the bed. %u201CAt the foot of the bed, maybe?%u201D
Caleb found it. %u201CThanks.%u201D he pulled it on over his head, and went into the bathroom for a glass of water, and did not look at himself in the mirror. He took two or three sips, dumped out the rest, and came back to bed. He turned out the light and rolled over on his side, putting an arm around Grace.
Grace clasped his hand with both of hers. %u201CI love you, Caleb.%u201D
Caleb felt tears sting his eyes, and two droplets slid down his face. %u201CI love you, too.%u201D
When he slept again, he did not dream.