Chapter 6

Most people dream random, silly or scary dreams. They find themselves standing naked in front of a crowd or a crocodile chasing them, trying to eat their pants.

But not mine.

Mine have always been vivid memories of my childhood with encrypted secrets twisted within.

While cuddled in the crook of Keanu’s large arm, my eyelids fluttered furiously as I relived a moment of my past mingled with a subconscious message.

My bare feet burned on the Sedona desert as the sun poured scalding rays over top of me. Tiny grains of sand had burrowed themselves into corners of my eyes, making it nearly impossible to keep them open. With my lips cracked and my throat now unable to swallow, white patches of dried spittle caked at the corners of my mouth.

The only saving grace was a weak wind from the east to sooth my baking skin. Forcing my legs to move forward, my eyes narrowed to a slit as they scoured the landscape for any sign of the reservation, or better yet, water.

Lost.

It started out as a mission to find the cave where my mother had given birth to me; it ended up a near death experience. Four days I’d wandered the endless reaches of the ocean of sand, first searching for my past and then for my future. If I didn’t find my way home, or if my tribe didn’t find me soon, there’d be nothing left to bring home.

Only nine years old, I wondered what kind of mother could abandon her baby. What kind of person leaves her child to live—or die—alone in a cave? What if the medicine woman, now my grandmother, hadn’t found me there? Would my mother have cared? Did she return to make sure someone had found me?

Reliving my past within my dream, I felt a lump in my throat form and a quiet sob escape me. Lucid enough to know I had company in my bed with me, I forced silence upon myself.

In reality, a search party found me eight miles from the reservation, face down and barely alive. In my dream, however, I found myself standing at the mouth of a cave.

The cave.

The one where I’d been left behind.

And then there was the number. In every dream, there is always the same number.

Two, in Roman numerals—II.

Entering the cave, I hear droplets of moisture echoing as they splatter against the rocks. A pungent mildew scent invades my nostrils causing them to flare. Gliding my hand along the rough terrain of the cavern walls to guide me, I move through the veil of darkness. The further I go, the more the shadows swallow the light.

I sense a presence in the cave with me, just behind me. Without turning around, I know that it is someone—or something—protecting me.

As the dream continues, I suddenly find myself lying upon the floor of the cave. Shadows move around me with haste, though I can’t see who’s making them.

Next, all I know is pain.

I am screaming in pain.

The dream suddenly ends with a blinding flash of white light.

Sitting straight up in bed, my hair plastered to my face from sweat, I breathe heavily as I try to slow my racing heart.

“Are you okay?” Keanu asked as he sat up and began rubbing my back.

Attempting to sound casual, I answer as I’m wiping the dampness from my face. “Yah, sure, just a crazy dream.”

Kissing my shoulder, his fingers slid around my side and down the muscle line of my stomach.

“Here, let me make you forget all about it.” His hot breath tickled my ear as he whispered.

Laying me onto my back, he positioned himself over me and began another rigorous love-making session.

Clutching his shoulders, I tried to focus on the task at hand. Tossing out the occasional moan for his benefit, I couldn’t get into the moment.

My mind was still whirling around the meaning of the dream.

The Roman numerals haunted me.

Two? Why two?