The Hour of Dreams Read Online Free PDF

crunching, she spoke first.
    “Are you afraid?” she asked.
    The question took me by surprise, and I had to think about it for a moment. That’s when I knew the answer was no. I shook my head.
    “You’re not?” she asked incredulously.
    “No.” I shrugged. “I mean, I’ve cried, gotten angry, moped. You name it, I’ve felt it. But, now I’m just trying to focus on the positives: my family, Wes. And he’s working on a cure, so—”
    “So that’s it? No worries.”
    “I guess I’m just trying to look at the bright side. That’s all we can do, right?”
    She smiled and looked down. “Thanks.”
    I didn’t know whether a “you’re welcome” was in order, so I paused.
    “Thanks for making me focus on what’s important,” she added.
    I smiled. “You’re welcome.”
    “Well,” she said, standing. “I gotta go.”
    “Where?” I asked, a little too quickly.
    “My house. I’m going to tell my parents while I still have the nerve.”
    “I think that’s a good idea.”
    We gave each other a hug and she was on her way. No sooner had the door closed than Wes swept me over to the lab.
    Everything I’d hoped to avoid was happening before my eyes. Plus more.
    My weight and vital signs were checked, and about six vials of blood were taken. Wes tried to entertain me by playing me in various phone apps while we waited, but I just wanted to go home. There’s nothing pleasant about spending extended periods of time in any medical room.
    Finally, after three hours, Dr. Carter came in with the news. I had some antibody called U1-RNP present. At the mention of it, Wes turned around and faced the window.
    “What does that mean?” I asked.
    Dr. Carter patted my shoulder. “Well, it’s not certain yet. I’ll know more when further results come back, but for now, it indicates that your immune system is attacking itself. We may have a connective tissue disorder developing. It’s good we caught it now.”
    I was having trouble concentrating, with just one thing on my mind.
    “Could I die from it?”
    At that point, Wes turned around. “No,” he answered sharply.
    I looked at Dr. Carter for confirmation. “It’s too early to tell, but we’ll start you on steroids and anti-inflammatory drugs, and we’ll monitor you frequently.”
    Wes didn’t look happy, but he did his best to hide it. He offered me reassuring smiles that didn’t touch his worried eyes, but what could I do? You just go with it, and that’s what we did. Dr. Carter wrote my prescriptions, and we left, grabbed a bite to eat, and went home.
    Other than taking regular medication in the following weeks, and Wes hovering whenever he could, most of the action was happening at the bookstore. Dawn did follow through and tell her parents, so Mr. Healey walked around like a zombie for a few days. Then he redirected his displeasure from Dawn to Jackson. Once he thought it through, he was not only angry that Jackson had been so irresponsible, but that he'd left Dawn feeling high and dry. To make sure he wasn’t going to get off scot-free, Mr. Healey called Jackson’s parents.
    At that point, Dawn was indifferent to Jackson and said she could care less if his mom and dad flipped. She seemed more focused, and, though still scared to death, she felt ready to grow up and be responsible for once.
    When it came to me, I coped as well as I could until the meds Dr. Carter prescribed started making me tired. I worked and went about my days as usual, but whenever I was home, I slept more than I ever had before. My body called for it badly. So badly that sleep became boring. So boring that I decided to try my hardest to have dreams. The kind of dreams that would hopefully be memories, like Wes said he was having.
    I'd had flashbacks before, about Lenny’s accident and about Amelia helping Wes during his transfusion, so now I just hoped to have more.
    The new dreams started on a night when Wes was late at the lab, and I knew he was up to something. And I was