There was a fog, so thick Joe couldn’t see through it, but he could hear the buzz and chatter of hundreds of people all around him. Emerging from the mist were massive, looming structures, nothing alien or mysterious but rather they were things comforting and familiar, monoliths that the people revered. The disorientation slowly faded, and the mist vanished like water down a drain, and when it was gone he realized he stood on the National Mall, and the day was crystal clear and sunny.

Joe grinned. It was a place he loved—the wide, grassy area, in the heart of the city, where stout monuments and museums stood tall, connected by wide walking paths, with the Potomac River and the Tidal Basin so ever present in each view. He looked around and drank in the scenery.

He was on the west end of the Mall, and the reflecting pool stretched out before him, shimmering in the sunlight. Looming in the distance beyond it was the towering Washington Monument. Behind him he saw the staunch structure of the Lincoln Memorial and its wide, sprawling steps. There were people everywhere—tourists, vendors, joggers. Beautiful puffy white clouds streaked across the sky, moving too fast to be real.

His smile grew wider yet. It was not a coincidence he was there. The place had great meaning to him.

It had been this incredible day, during his junior year of high school, right when he and Jennifer had first started dating. Together they’d taken the subway up to D.C. They hadn’t any real plan, and so they’d ended up just walking aimlessly around the Mall. It sounded mundane, but it was some of the best time he’d ever spent—laughing and joking around with her, for a good couple hours. She’d become his girlfriend on that day, in a very real way, as they held hands, and remained quite close to one another through each passing moment. They walked on the winding paths, toured monuments, and took many breaks, sitting lazily on park benches. They ate popcorn, and later, ice cream. They ended up on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, looking out on the reflecting pool. Joe had sat down on a wide step, and she took a seat right in front of him, her head back on his chest, his arms and legs to either side of her. Joe thought that he could sit there all day with her, just like that—he never wanted to move. The sun was setting, the day was quite comfortable, the atmosphere lively and happy. Tourists and kids abound—happy families everywhere, of every race, even every ethnicity, it seemed. The one thing they all had in common was their smiles. And Joe had never been so close to a girl. It had been one of his favorite days ever. And he’d put himself right back there.

He walked toward the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, knowing that’s where she’d be. This time and place were recalled for a very particular reason—because he could draw them so well. All the details were spot-on, and indeed, it was just as he’d hoped, as he’d wished, as he could spot her instantly, seated amongst the crowds there—in the exact same spot they had shared. On sight of him she popped up to her feet and then they rushed toward one another. Their embrace was instant, immediate. When it was done they remained looking into one another’s eyes, and Joe was thrilled to see her eyes were as starry as his.

“Oh, Joe,” she said. “I loved this day.”

Her glance went not just to him, but also to their magnificent surroundings. It was a true marvel—Joe had always thought it’d be impossible to go back, but somehow he’d done it.

“Check us out,” Joe said, peering down at the clothes both he and she wore. They were high school era appropriate—Joe with baggy shorts and a thin, punkish T-shirt, and Jennifer with her cut-off jean shorts and halter top of the style she used to often wear. She smiled, delighted.

“Jennifer,” he began, taking her hands into his as they had once done.

“Joe,” she whispered softly.

He sensed the fragility, that what they had could be shattered in an instant. Everything was tenuous; it was in flux. A mere gust of wind could send them fluttering into prosperity, or hurtling towards despair.

“What’s happening to us?” he asked her.

She gave no reply, and instead looked back at him with eyes that turned distant. A faint breeze tugged at her hair, and those locks moved in a dreamlike way, like she was underwater.

“Where are you?” he asked.

She still didn’t answer and Joe felt his heart sink.

“What happened to you?” he asked, frightened by his own voice, and the desperate tone he heard in it. He could feel the dire situation, and how faraway she actually was. The dream was a blessed window that allowed for their communication, but that was all it permitted. In reality, back on the other side, she was lost, or waylaid, or… even trapped.

While still in silence, her face grew tense, as though to confirm his suspicions. But then he saw actual fear ripening in her expression as she peered over his shoulder.

“What’s he doing here?” she asked.

The buzz of the deepest bass string droned through him as Joe looked back over his shoulder, following her line of sight. And there he was.

Eddie Morrow.

He was a couple hundred feet away, with a calm but menacing expression on his face, and with his hair slicked back. He stood unmoving amidst a group of tourists that were in constant motion all around him, smiling, taking pictures, and buzzing like bees. Only Eddie never moved. He stood scarily still and silent, like a statue, and it was clear that he watched him and Jennifer. He watched very intently, his expression almost studious, like he was learning.

Joe felt his eyes sharpen in anger. Overhead the sun dipped behind a cloud and thick shadows fell onto D.C., casting the world into an eerie light. It prompted Joe to hold Jennifer a little tighter and a little closer.

“What’s he doing here?” Jennifer asked again.

“I don’t know,” Joe replied, the anxiety rippling further into him. The sky rumbled in distant thunder.

Eddie was a problem, he knew. He was a wrench thrown in the gears, one that could upset the whole system. He could wreck everything.

“Look. He’s not alone,” Jennifer said.

Joe peered over his should again and saw a woman standing just behind Eddie. Joe had to think for a moment, and then it clicked.

“Chrissy Adkins,” he remarked.

“That’s strange,” she whispered.

“I know.”

“Did they have some kind of relationship?” Jennifer asked.

“Define relationship,” Joe muttered robotically.

She clammed up, unwilling to inquire any further.

Joe peered at them in confusion, noting how Eddie still never moved, he only stared, and Chrissy lingered near him, like she was his sidekick.

“Look, they’ve changed,” she said. “They’ve gone back. Just like we have.”

Perhaps it was a cue taken from them, as the uninvited guests also shifted back into high school mode. Joe watched it happen, a strange metamorphosis that occurred over a few seconds. When it was done, Eddie looked as he once did, with his black trench coat and scraggly long hair, while Chrissy had on a lacy Goth outfit, and she wore makeup with excessive amounts of dark eyeshadow. Her hair—once a honey blonde—was again dyed black, just like she’d somewhat shockingly done during their senior year.

Still they stood, cryptically unmoving amidst the buzzing crowd.

It struck Joe then—their attention, and their concern, only gave power to the unwanted visitors. It drew them into the world. It linked them in.

He turned away quickly.

“Forget about them,” he said, focusing on Jennifer, and only her. “Don’t think about them. Don’t think about Eddie.”

Her eyes met his and they had regained a glimmer of hope.

Joe continued. “He doesn’t know this place as well as we do. That’s why they can’t come any closer, see? This is our place, Jennifer, this is time that we spent together, and he doesn’t know about it. So he can’t bother us here. I won’t allow it.” Joe said it like it was true, and he hoped it was. “They have no place here,” he added, his voice firm, even demanding.

In the distance he saw the crowds of tourists grow ever more so, as additional buses had just arrived and dropped off their passengers. With a fresh flood of people, Eddie and Chrissy became lost in the thickening crowd altogether, which enveloped them like a rising tide. Soon they were out of sight completely—there was not a trace of them remaining.

“Incredible,” Jennifer whispered. “Did you do that?”

“I guess so,” Joe replied.

The sun reemerged out from behind the clouds and the warming light fell upon them again. It caught her eyes beautifully, and the sight held Joe fast. He heard a long sigh, and almost with a shock he realized it was his own. The emotions again—he wasn’t used to having no control over them. They were like a raging bull, and wrangling them in was no small feat. It seemed not even worth trying. It wasn’t clear why he ever even tried to in the first place.

“What is it?” she asked softly.

He reached deep within, forcing himself to find the words, and also the courage to speak them. He loved how he could easily locate both things, and the words streamed out of him smoothly.

“I just wish things could be simple, Jennifer. Like this. Just you and I, together, just hanging out. That’s all we ever needed, you know? That’s all anyone ever really needs. Nothing ever needs to be more complicated than this.”

She smiled widely in response, as though to affirm it all.

“It’s actually easy to be happy,” Joe added. “If people could only realize it. If I could only realize it.”

But there was a big problem though. He felt the tenuousness again, the delicacy, and it spurred the urgency brewing within him. Still maintaining that same confidence, that same surety, he spoke to her.

“Jennifer, I’ll find you, okay? Wherever you are. I’ll find you, and I’ll bring you back. I’ll bring you home. I promise.”

She offered him a wide, teary smile, and in that moment Joe swore to himself that he wouldn’t let her down. He’d rather die than let her down. She hugged him then, and it was accompanied with an emotional wave lapping into him like a windswept ocean hitting a seawall. Their embrace was long and drawn out, and during it Joe felt gravity cease to exist, like the two of them were floating in space. It evolved from there, as his face fell perfectly onto the crook of her neck, where it used to fall so often, and he kissed her gently, as her eyes closed and she sighed deeply. Everything about her was just as he remembered—her sound, her scent, her feel. Their arms wrapped tightly around one another, their bodies fitting together like puzzle pieces—it felt so right, so familiar. They’d missed this badly—it was clear. He had to wonder why they’d ever broken up in the first place. That seemed like the dumbest decision ever.

“I love you,” he said, eagerly, and then happily he watched the emotional wave hit her right back, as she too was gladly swept away in it. Her eyes shone with fresh tears.

Those three words were something he’d normally never say, or at least not without a huge amount of fear and consternation. But in that moment it seemed utterly stupid to withhold them. In the grand scheme of things, such reluctance was actually ridiculous, even damaging—because there wasn’t enough time in people’s lives. It should be something said much more often, and much more willingly.

“I love you, too,” she said, speaking very decidedly, and it was the sure manner in which she said it that struck him every bit as much as the actual words. Their waves had gone back and forth, like competing tsunamis, leaving them both gasping.

But all things had to end, sadly, and the sky above had grown dark once more, disquietingly so, and then Joe watched it actually flicker, like a TV losing reception. Thus, he knew the dream was nearing an end. This worried him, because he knew he needed more information from her. He could sense how this medium—dreams—were very effective for transferring emotion, for the emotions were overwhelming. But knowledge transfer—that was more difficult. Maybe even impossible. But still he had to try.

He chose his words carefully.

“I want to see you again, Jennifer,” he said. “But… how can I see you again?”

The sky flickered again, a few times in rapid succession, and then the world began to fade, like a changeover in a movie. But he could still hear her voice.

“Will you take me on a date?” she asked.

“God, yes,” he answered. There was no other reply he could muster, there was none at all.

* * *

Joe opened his eyes.

He was in his apartment. The sky was light with dawn and he heard the morning traffic outside.

He sighed, with equal parts joy and longing. For her warmth still permeated along his body, and her words still lingered in his ear. It was as though she’d been lying with him just a split second ago. He actually reached his hand over to the other side of the bed, feeling around for her in the blankets, praying she would be there. But it was only the smooth sheets his hand ran across. He drifted back to sleep almost immediately, every second yearning.

* * *

He wished he could say he had no more dreams that night, but it wasn’t truthful. In the next one, there was a woman yet again, and she appeared both familiar and mysterious as she approached him. She wore no clothes of course, not this woman and not in this scenario. In a graceful movement she swung one of her long legs over his torso before lowering herself smoothly onto him, guiding him in as a blissful electricity took over. Through his suddenly kaleidoscopic view he watched her eyes falling shut and a pleasured smile widening on her face. She rocked her hips slowly at first, a gentle stirring, but with each of the pulsing, stiffening waves he felt pass through him, the more her body energized, and soon, glistened. Eventually, she bounced and bucked on top of him, riding him off with great spirit. The kaleidoscope intensified and he saw her wicked smile in a hundred different spinning frames. In each of them her eyes, the shape of almonds, told him that she knew what he liked, and she knew what he wanted, better than anyone else did. He also noticed the beauty mark on her chin, and above that, he saw flashes of metal from the stud on her tongue.

It shined at him from between her lips that were parted in ecstasy, as she bounced and bucked and made noises like it was the best ride she’d ever had.