Dreams of Destiny Pt. 03

"Where are you headed?" Rodgers asked her when he reached the escalator?" Can I walk with you.?"

"Sure."

They stepped onto the escalator, talking as they rode it up to the first floor.

"I'm going to Burger King. I need some grease to settle the sugar and caffeine I had for breakfast. I'm going for the balanced diet today. Care to join me?"

"Sure. I can do grease. Food of the Gods," Rodgers answered. How much time do you have"

"About a half hour. Then I'm heading back to Raven's Courtroom to see what happens to Devon's siblings. Devon asked me to find out where they're going to be placed. I thought maybe I could work out some sort of visitation arrangements."

"That's a nice thing to do." "Lawyers aren't supposed to do nice things," Rodgers teased."

"Why does everyone have to bash lawyers," Destiny complained. "Lawyers can be nice." "Take me. I'm a very nice person. Its one of my biggest problems. I'm overly nice. Everyone takes advantage of me."

I'd like to take you period, Rodgers realized. He kept the thought to himself.

"I'm a cop" Rodgers pointed out as they exited the Courthouse. The heat of the summer afternoon hit them like a hot, wet blanket.

"Cops are allergic to lawyers, remember? Lawyers get in their way and prevent them from doing their job. We trip over them every step of the way. The minute a lawyer becomes nice, a cop becomes suspicious. It's the way of the world. Cops and lawyers. The yin and yang of crime"

Yin and yang, huh? they both thought.

"So you're a philosopher as well," Destiny said.

"I could be what ever you want me to be ," he said suggestively, giving Destiny a warm, appraising look.

An immediate spark flared between them and Destiny went on the offensive. Her pulse quickened.

"You know what you are downtown?" she asked with a sly grin as they strolled companionably up Fifth street towards the Burger King? The humidity was starting to make Destiny sweat.

"No. Tell me."

"Mr. Youth Division.

"Oh, Christ." Rodgers was disgusted. "Who in the Hell told you that?"

Destiny was surprised he knew, but covered it well.

"Why, everyone, officer Rodgers." Destiny drawled, batting her eyelashes." There hasn't been a Mr. Youth Division since the Buck in 1992, so of course your selection was a hot news item in the halls of the Courthouse."

"Bullshit.," said Rodgers, his face reddening. He realized Destiny's eyes were a deeper shade of green than they had been in his dream. "I would know if gossip like that is spreading."

"How would you know? How many women attorneys and social workers do you talk with intimately on a daily basis, officer Rodgers?" she asked sweetly. Destiny was wildly curious to hear his answer.

"Oh shut up, Lysander," Rodgers growled. He was angry and fed up with the conversation. "I'm sorry I ever called you nice. That Mr. Youth Division shit is nothing but sexual harassment. How would you like to be dubbed Ms. Courthouse legs?" He looked at her shorts skirt meaningfully. You'd file a discrimination without blinking and probably win a million bucks. Being male doesn't make me invulnerable to embarrassment from crap like this. What if I had a wife and kids?"

Destiny regretted her words. "I'm sorry. I was just having a little bit of fun. I'd never even heard of you before today. One of the courtroom clerks told me about your title this morning. I don't know where she got it from.

"By the way" Destiny said to smooth things over, They entered the Burger King and got into line with about two dozen hungry cub scouts and a stray lawyer or two, "you did a good thing for my client in Court."

The restaurant had seen better days and smelled strongly of disinfectant and rancid grease. Destiny wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"What? Telling the truth?" Rodgers said dismissively.

"You could have told it differently to be sure he ended up at Oak Hill. A lot of cops would have. Marty was fit to be tied. For some season he wanted to juice Devon."

"I'm not a lot of cops," John said shortly. "And Marty should be tied. And drawn and quartered as far as I'm concerned."

"Right on both counts" said Destiny. Your honesty is refreshing"

"Sugar, where I come from, the cops are as honest as preachers."

"Sugar," Destiny retorted with a fake drawl, "y'all come from down south where the preachers lie like politicians on election day."

They moved up in line as the cub scouts grabbed their lunches and headed noisily to the upstairs seating section.

Rodgers laughed. He seemed to have forgiven Destiny. "I come from Florida, where preachers lie like real estate agents talking to rich octogenarians. They talk fast and lay it on thick. But the cops don't usually resort to fucking over juvees for no reason. And," he added with a hint of malice, "they might just screw prosecutors who try to tell them how to testify."

"I knew it," Destiny proclaimed." "I just knew Marty made up that part about your having to run Devon to exhaustion and wrestle the gun from his hands. God, he's a sleezeball. I swear he gets a hard on every time he puts a kid at Oak Hill.

"Just between you and me," Rodgers continued, the kid and I were both pretty exhausted by the end of the race. But Devon tripped over his own two feet. That's when the gun flew out of his hand And it's a damn good thing it did, or he might have accidentally shot himself when he landed on his face."

"Why are you telling me this?" Destiny asked. "Cops don't talk to defense attorneys other than to curse them out. Marty'll have your head if he finds out you're talking to me about the case."

"What that little twerp thinks or does makes no difference to me" , Rodgers asserted. And ordinarily I'd say I've never met a lawyer I didn't dislike. But you're not ordinarily.

"In any event," Rodgers continued, switching subjects, "something strange has been happening to me lately. Today I discovered that you may be an integral part of the puzzle. I have to get to the bottom of a lot of things quickie and I need your help. If acting ethically and pissing off Marty along the way earns your trust, great. I'd have done what I did for the kid under any circumstances. He's a good kid who needs a break.."

Destiny tensed up at his words. "I don't know what do you mean," she asked. "I met you for the first time only an hour or so ago. "

"Are you sure about that" Rodgers replied, "It seemed to me that you had a pretty strong reaction when you first saw me in the Courtroom. You called me Juan. Who is Juan? he asked pointedly. And during cross examination you called me Colonel, not officer"

"That's not true'. Destiny denied his words the officer's words belligerently. She didn't want to consider what it would mean if Rodgers were really Juan Rodriguez from her fantasy dream. It was just too, ..., too,... bizarre. If she had created him by putting him into her erotic fantasies over the years what did that say about the fabric of reality? Destiny pondered the problem.

What if one could create a being, a place or a situation by thinking it into existence. Or if dreams were portholes into separate realities people slipped in and out of unknowingly. Even more troubling, what if at a certain point in life one began to be aware of alternate universes, and to gain a measure of control over them?

Destiny had read up on lucid dreaming when she first realized she could manipulate her dreams to a certain extent. In a lucid dream state one was kind of both awake and asleep at the same time. Lucid dreaming had various forms. With Destiny it occurred most often when she got into a sticky situation in a dream. She realize it was a dream and say to herself , wake up, Destiny, and open your eyes, and more likely than not she'd find herself back in bed. Lately she'd begun to think of her bed as a safety zone. Sometimes when she was sure she was awake she would test herself and try to wake herself up. So far she'd always been right . She didn't want to think a day might come when she would be wrong.

Destiny had experienced two other forms of lucid dreaming. One she considered to be a sort of aural traveling. It happened when she was in a trance like state poised between awake and asleep. She'd will herself to move her arms, starting with her left one, slowly and cautiously. The plasma of her arm would rise, leaving her corporeal limb behind. She'd raise her right arm similarly. The plasma arms pass through the bed covers is if they didn't exist. Then she'd stretch out her feet and her aural fee would come loose. Next she'd try to pull herself up from her sternum and shoulders, with her head back. This was the critical point. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. If it did, her aura would pull free from her body. The she'd turn and push her fists through the walls of her bedroom. Often it felt like she was going through sand. Other time she went through cement, or dirt and stones. Once, she had swum her way out.

At this point she often heard music. The music might be radio music, instrumental, or vaguely new age. It was always different. She thought of it as the music of the universe.

She never saw the silver cord which so many books said connected persons auras to their bodies. Her cord was more like fish line. Sometimes it wasn't there at all.

If she could push her way through the bedroom wall she was free. Sometimes she traveled downwards, sometimes upwards. Sometimes she stayed on the earthly plain.

Destiny's downward journeys were frequently sensual or even sexual. It would be warm and the air was damp and spicy. She might come out of the wall into a stairwell, and start flying or drifting downwards. sometimes she was alone, sometimes she passed others hurrying here or there her on her way down.

After traveling down a few floors Destiny often became frightened and turned back. On several occasions, however, she had gone down stairs to find herself in a large chamber where there was more music, and sometimes dancing. It was always smoky in the chamber. There would be others in the chamber engaged in lazy conversation or pursuits of minor pleasure. Chess was a favored game. The color scheme was red and the walls of the chamber were made of rose, black and white marble. There were fountains of flowing water ensconced with gargoyles and cherubim, and their gurgling added to the hypnotic, sensual atmosphere. The chamber was lit by candles and some other unearthly light.

As Destiny floated around the chamber, the others would nod in greeting, but they never spoke to her. They appeared to have more substance in the chamber than Destiny did.

On two occasions Destiny had spoken with an elegantly dressed entity who acted as if the chamber was a small part of a large fiefdom. The entity was charming and sinister like a snake, with cold, reptilian eyes. His smile was hot and steamy.

On the first occasion they met the entity said something Destiny didn't like. Destiny said to him "you really piss me off." Suddenly a faucet sprung out of nowhere and poured yellow liquid over the entity's head. The entity had laughed, amused by her boldness. But she saw the look in his eyes and it was cold fire. Destiny beat a hasty retreat. She flew upstairs, opened her eyes and slid back onto her body. Her heart was thumping in her chest when she awoke and there was and a hint of sulfur lingering in the area of her bedroom

.

Most often when Destiny slid out of her bedroom wall into the present plane, she would find herself on the campus of Catholic University where she had gone to law school. It was usually springtime. There would be students lounging all over the lawns of the campus, reading or dozing. She would pass couples necking on blankets. Birds would be singing and the air would be aromatic with the scent of hyacinth and apple blossoms. A myriad of spring flowers and bushes would be in full bloom, petals strewn everywhere.

Again, the entities in the dream would be more substantial than Destiny. They would see her and point, crying "look, she's flying." Its easy, she would call back "just lean into the wind, drag your hands out behind you, lift you chin and believe, and you can fly too." A few would always take her advice and learn, to their delight, that flying was a simple trick.

Destiny would laugh and move on.

Sometimes these dreams ended when Destiny's life line ran out of play. She would turn back regretfully, head home and slip back onto her body and into bed.

On other occasions Destiny would forget to watch where she was going and would end up tangled in a tree or bush like a stray piece of Saran Wrap tossed by the wind. When that happened Destiny would be forced to open her eyes, and POP, there she would be, safe in her room.

There were winter days in the earth zone as well. Sometimes Destiny would find herself naked and freezing, barely able to fly in a snow or sleet storm. She would be at the top of a mountain or a cliff, struggling desperately to get back to the warmth of her home. She would cry out "fly, fly!! And then would wake up.

The higher planes were myriad and kaleidoscopic. The colors were brighter. She'd even seen colors that don't exist on earth. Double and triple rainbows were common occurrences.

The scents were bolder and more pleasing than any she had ever experienced. Music had been re-created in the upper planes. It contained the sounds f joy, hope love, excitement and passion. The sound of rushing water was a constant source of comfort, as were bird song, crickets, and lightly calling bells.

Evenings were wondrous with the glory of rising tides, mountain vistas, the setting sun, the rising moon, star light and fireflies, all rolled into one.

She'd often awake from such dreams with tears of pleasure on her pillow and a swell of a song in her heart that she could never, ever remember.

Destiny's aural travels were very limited in time and physically taxing. She always awoke from such dreams ravenously hungry with an immediate need for a sugar boost.

The third type of lucid dreams Destiny experienced were those where she could consciously manipulate the fabric of the dream. Sometimes she would be creating someone in her dream and want him or her to have a particular characteristic. She would concentrate on the person and on the characteristic she wanted, blink her eyes, and make a change. It was a touch and go process, however, and often frustrating. She could never seem to get precisely the effect she was looking for and could go on for what seemed to be hour trying to get things right.

Destiny could make other manipulations. She had turned tears into diamonds, often increased the amount of money in her wallet and changed her wardrobe obsessively. She had built houses and furnished rooms. She froze and boiled water, stopped trains, boats, trains and automobiles, and helped children grow up.. She had healed sickness. These dreams were megalomaniacal, Destiny realized. what she couldn't do, however, was bring corporal matter back from such dreams. She brought back only what she came with. How many times, she wondered, had she tried to bring back flowers, jewels, or brick a brac from a lucid dream to watch them melt like snow flakes as her dream dissolved before her?

But what if all that has changed? Destiny wondered. This is dangerous thinking, . Destiny thought in desperation. Clearly delusional, psychotic even. But the evidence before her couldn't be denied. John Rodgers looked just like the Juan Rodriguez she had called up from her imagination. Yes, there were subtle differences but his substance was the same and she knew it. She had been calling him up in her fantasies for as long as she remembered in one form or another. Now, here he was, staring at her with questions in his eyes, bigger than life. What's happening?, Destiny thought nearly in tears. She took a long deep breath, looked up at the sky, as if seeking the wisdom of the stars, closed her eyes....

At the same instant, John looked at the fear and desperation on Destiny's face in dismay. He hadn't wanted to panic the woman. He reached out and grasped her hands, then watched in disbelief as diorama before him shimmered for a second, splintered and fractured into a million pieces. The universe made a sickening twist. He felt like he was being pulled along with Destiny through some sort of vapor lock. The force of the shift sucked Destiny hard and he lost his grip on her hands. He shut his eyes and protected his face with his forearms.