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There had been a boy in his dreams for as long as he could remember. Far away at first, and having his own dreams. Nightmares perhaps, about falling down holes in the ground and not making the jump in time for the escalator; but good dreams too about being as small as an ant and the blades of grass as tall as buildings. Slowly, carefully, with determined intent on Adam's part, their dreams grew nearer, and he found a way to tie them together and say hello.
All bright smiles and mischievous laughter, they could have been brothers. Blue eyed and golden haired, they could've been twins.
"I'm Adam," he said. And the boy, who was American but spoke without the accent, was called Warlock.
There were no more scary dreams for the boy after that. All the tunnels into the Earth were explored rather than fallen into; all the escalators conquered with chubby hands held together for the jump.
When Adam asked his mum, in his little boy way, why she got rid of his brother, she had to explain there was no brother. There had only ever been and probably only ever would be him. And if he wanted a brother, how about a goldfish instead?
But the boys knew the truth. As seasons turned and each grew to be three—and wasn't it the best that they had the same birthday too—Adam became so insistent that this brother existed that the adults figured this Warlock had to be an imaginary friend, especially with a name like that! They had a good chuckle, and got on with their lives. Every now and then, Mr. and Mrs. Young heard about what trouble "me and my brother" had been up to, which always caused quite a fuss. His mum and dad both ran around inside the house and out into the yard to ensure no messes were found, but otherwise didn't call any attention to the whole lingering ordeal.
Adam is only a child, he'd hear them say. He'll grow out of it.
They didn't understand what Adam and Warlock did: they were special. Connected. Brothers.
And when they turned four, they realised there was another boy whose dreams they could both almost touch. Quicker than before, excitedly, with determined intent, their dreams grew nearer, and Adam tied them all together to say hello.
All bright smiles and mischievous laughter, they could have been brothers. Blue eyed and golden haired, they could've been triplets.
"I'm Adam and this is Warlock," he said. And the boy with their same birthday, who'd always known he was adopted, was called Greyson.
When Adam asked his mum, in his increasingly unsettling way, why she got rid of his other brother too, she had to explain there was still no first brother, let alone a second one. There had only ever been and definitely only ever would be him. This time she didn't suggest any goldfish as recompense. Which was alright with Adam: fish were more Greyson's area of expertise.
He would've preferred if she offered a dog. He would have kept talk of Warlock and Greyson to himself if she'd offered that!
Instead, the boys went on many nighttime adventures, learning to control and sculpt the dreamworlds around them with each other's help. They could be pirates and ride dinosaurs and visit underwater caverns and travel to the farthest reaches of unexplored space; or they could watch the dream stars in the fields Warlock brought them from when he went with his nanny, or climb into the tree house Greyson's dads said he wasn't old enough to go in yet, and have popcorn and sleepovers without sleeping, telling made-up stories to pass the night.
But when they turned five, Greyson had to give them bad news: his Year One teacher told his dads that his imagination was running away with him, because he only wanted to talk about his imaginary brothers rather than learning to count to one hundred. Since his dads had big plans for him, he had to stop visiting and focus on the real world if he was ever going to be a famous sports player some day.
"Sorry, Greyson," Adam said and the three boys hugged and cried and spent their last night together in the tree house making promises to never forget the good times they had, and maybe—if Greyson could—find a way to return when he was older and the adults couldn't tell him what to do. And they took back all the keys to all their doors, and only left a little latched-shut window so they could check on him but not the other way 'round.
When Greyson was ready to wake up, Adam and Warlock helped him untie his dreamworld from theirs and he drifted off.
Adam had liked Greyson and missed him when he was gone, but part of him was happy it was just him and Warlock again. The originals! Plus it was so much easier to decide what to do and where to go when it was only the two of them.
He hadn't noticed but, somewhere along the way, they had stopped looking like twins. Adam's eyes were brighter blue with Warlock's tinged with smoke. Their hair had each turned darker but Warlock's hair was darker still while Adam's shone like a winter sun.
They spent that next year of nights building up their dreamworlds even cooler and more exciting than before; trimming areas from when they were young because they were getting too old for that sort of stuff. They practised dream magic and made up games that only they knew the rules for and hiked through the strangest faraway places they could think of, like Biggleswade which Warlock swore was more than a whole hour away from him. By car!
And they told each other all their little boy hopes and secrets along the way.
When they were six, Warlock tearfully entered their dreams and told Adam that it was time for him to go too: his nanny had retired, and he couldn't find his favourite gardener any longer; his two new tutors kept reading from an old book talking about some seven-headed dragon and a second serving of Jesus; and apparently it was Warlock's duty to focus on learning how to give something called rubble-housing political speeches so he could rule the world someday.
He didn't want to go.
"It will be alright," Adam promised and he made it so they'd always be connected, even though they couldn't be brothers any more. So they spent their last dream nights together—as they had so much more to pack away from having had nearly four whole years as the very best of friends—and Warlock buried all the keys and codes and rules he could think of, so he couldn't be tempted to join Adam again.
And when Warlock was ready to wake up (he was never truly ready), Adam helped him untie his dreamworld from his own and he drifted off.
Adam loved his brother and missed him terribly. He had never been alone before at night. He had always had the boy in his dreams.
His mum noticed his lack of cheer quickly and hugged him when he told her what had happened with Warlock. Though she thought the other boy was imaginary, she knew enough as a mother to be kind and help him grieve his loss, even as she wondered what had brought this on.
When he had cried it out, his mum asked if he'd like to go out for lunch, just the two of them. Adam grabbed his favourite dinosaur toy and then they walked towards town.
When they got to the end of their lane, Adam pointed to a moving van at one of the houses. He wondered if there was a family moving in and hoped they had any children his age.
As if by magic, a young girl appeared, her boyish clothes already wrinkled and grass stained. "Hullo! I'm Pepper," she said. "Do you live here too?"
"My house is by the woods. I'm Adam," he said.
"Oh! You have a tyrannosaurus!"
"From Jurassic Park. Do you wanna play with him?"
"D'you know? All Jurassic Park dinosaurs are girls!"
Adam grinned widely. "Wicked!"
Pepper's mum appeared and introduced herself to Mrs. Young, telling them both that Pepper had been dreaming about living at Hogsback Lane for weeks now. And finally they were there!
While their mums made plans for play dates, Adam—knowing too well the power of dreams—had a feeling he and Pepper were going to be very good friends indeed.
- END -