MIST'S NEXT MOVE: Did she really see what she thought she saw? Or was this another instance of her inability to separate the real from the surreal?

From the loft the night before, I believed  I saw  . . . . Oh, I had to look again try to find some evidence.    So, I crawled to the edge of the loft and peered down, not believing what I'd witnessed during the night.  But I saw no evidence of a fight or the knifing.  Could I have been dreaming?  It seemed so real.  Where was everybody?  The place smelled of freshly brewed coffee.  Pine branches rustled in the wind; a thrush called once, then again.  I dressed, climbed down the ladder, and scanned the floor for bloodstains.

            "Lose something, baby?"  I jumped.  The room spun.  I braced myself against the table.     "Docker, I didn't hear you come in."  He held me, rocked me.  His skin felt dry and exuded an odor of a smoldering electrical fire. 

            "Hey, sweetheart, what's wrong?  I'm worried about you.  Glad to see you up and around."  His jaw made a weird popping sound; he spoke rapidly, "You were out for a couple of days, you know."

            "What?"  I tried to push away.  "That's bullshit.  What is going on?"

            "Baby, calm down.  Come on."  I looked up into his face, then rested my cheek on his chest.  His heart beat fast like he'd been running uphill.  He shifted from one foot to the other; his heavy arms felt hot through my shirt.  I closed my eyes and tried to think, recall everything that went down since my meeting with No-Face.

            "I couldn't have blacked out," I said, my breath coming back to me rank and moist from his sunshine and sweat infused flannel shirt.  "I remember we made love.   Then I heard this really loud noise and you jumped down from the loft to check it out.  There was a fight."  I shook my head.  "I thought I saw Pal do something really horrible.  That's all I remember." 

            "What did he do?"

            "He slit a man's throat- the coalition leader's.  You were right there."  Docker shoved me back and stared into my eyes.  A crease deepened between his eyebrows; he licked his lips.

            "He what?  Wait wait wait.  Pal did what?"  Running his fingers through his hair, he circled around, boots clomping on the wooden floor.  "What the holy fuck are you talking about?  You are putting me on, baby.  You had a nightmare, hallucination.  We smoked some strong pot- laced with acid, I admit.  Man, we fucked and you came and you screamed, baby.  They could hear you in LA.  Then you went out like a light."  He snapped his fingers, stopped circling and leaned back on the bar, folded his arms on his chest and crossed one leg over the other.

            "But the crash, those guys-" I said, lowering myself to a chair.

            "What guys?"  He pushed away from the bar, raised me up by my elbows, and put his arms around me.

            "Everything seemed so real," I said, "like a lucid dream.  Inside the dream, you know  you're dreaming, so you try to wake up.  This wasn't like that.  I thought I was wide awake.  I could've sworn I saw Pal . . .   It was awful.  Blood everywhere.  I didn't remember falling asleep after we made love."  With a start, I recalled only then what Linda told me.  He sensed my fear.

            "What's wrong?"

            "There was something else-"  I said, resisting the impulse to ask about Darlene.

            "It had to be the weed, Sally," he broke in, nuzzling his forehead against mine.  I twisted from his arms and started for the door.  He caught my hand and gently drew me back.  "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart.  Don't be silly.  Would I let anything happen to you?  Would I?  Fuck.  How could you actually think we'd kill somebody!  Man!  I think you're losing it, baby.  Sit down here.  Here, I'll get you a cup of coffee.  Here, sit down.  Sit here."  He indicated his chair, which he'd slid to one side of the bar.  "I gotta go back out soon's I get something and straighten out some folks.  I'll be right back.  Are you going to be okay?  Now I'm afraid to leave you alone."  He poured me a cup and handed it to me.  I sipped my coffee, watching him hoist himself up to the loft.  In less than a minute he slid back down the ladder, holding an empty trash bag.  He winked.  "Don't move!" he said, and walked out, leaving me to watch scenes in my head of me and Linda.  My stomach heaved when the image of Pal and that guy rose up in my mind.  Was her story about Jody's kids and Darlene all a dream, too?

            I sat for what seemed like a half-hour with my feet up on a chair, savoring the steaming brew and the stillness, gazing across the room, trying to make sense of the past few days, I felt my heart slow to a walk.  Then I saw it.  I swung my feet to the floor and leapt up fast, sloshing coffee down the front of my shirt.  I had been standing on the very spot, a dark stain in the shape of Australia.  But I couldn't be certain it wasn't coffee from when Docker threw his cup against the wall.  I was about to bend down for a closer look when he came in.

            "You smell like coffee," he said, holding me around my waist.

            "Yeah, I still must be really spaced.  Spilled some on my shirt."  I pulled at it, feeling my lips quiver when I tried to smile, and set my cup on the bar.

            "Like a kid," he said, clicking his tongue.. 

            "Where are Linda and Pal?"  My voice sounded reedy.  "The kids?"

            "They're with the others, kids are with Morm'.  Why're you so interested all of a sudden?  You don't seem to like my friends that much.  You're freaked, man.  Feel like I gotta fucking baby-sit you."  As he spoke, shallow breaths ruffled my hair.  I knew what I wanted.  Grounded by caffeine, I launched into my spiel with the detachment of a flight attendant giving emergency instructions.

            "I want to go home," I said, "I feel weird, I don't know.  Not being able to tell the difference between a nightmare and reality scares me.  I don't feel like myself.  Do you think . . ." I paused, took a deep breath and went on, "Just show me the road out and I'll drive to the nearest town so I can catch a bus.  You guys can pick up the car later.  I didn't know we were going to be here this long.  We can hook up when you get back to the City."  He threw his head back and roared, sat down and pulled me on to his lap.

            "Oh, honey," he said, chuckling, smoothing my hair with his long fingers, "You are funny.  Know that?  What road?  There is no road."  My heart flipped.  I tried to push him away and stand up.  He tightened his hold.

            "Come on.  Stop teasing me.  How did we get here?"

            "Will you calm down.  I'm serious.  Don't worry.  When it's time to go, we'll go.  And, babe, I'm sorry.  You hurt my feelings, I thought you'd like it here."  He cupped the back of my head in his hand and pressed my forehead against his chest.  "Quiet.  Peaceful.  In the heart of nature- trees, sunshine, fresh air, birds.  But I am so sorry.  Why do want to leave me?"  He leaned back and took my fingers from my lips; his green eyes held mine.  "Honey, everything's fine.  We'll be leaving soon.  It's been so nice with you up here."

            "It's not just you," I said, lowering my head, "I can't help it.  It's this place, your buddies.  I never know- I had no idea you were so moody, besides . . .But one thing for sure, I have to cool it with the drugs.  No more gory nightmares."  I felt air stream out of my mouth in a rush.

            "Hey, baby, you were always right there with us, toking, stoking your nose, man.  No one's putting a gun to your head.  There's nothing to be afraid of except what's going on in your own mind-"

            "-No one pays attention to me, except the kids," I cut in.

            "Ho, now!  That's your ego talking, doll.  Up here, you gotta let go of it."  He flung out his arms.  "Let go of everything."  He played with my hair, put his nose in it, inhaled, then let out his breath.  "Your hair always smells so clean.  I love these red highlights." 

            "Be straight with me," I said, searching his face, "If you're involved in whatever, just tell me so I can deal with it."
To be Continued.  Next installment:  Mist chances asking Docker more questions; what he finds in Mist's pocket and the result.  Her insistence to get more information about him and his "buddies" does not bode Mist well. . . . . . .