The journal had to be a hoax. No one can look into the past through their dreams. It would be a form of time travel, something I wasn't ready to accept but I continued to read anyway.
I sat there in shock. My father had just told me that my dreams were more than just fantasy. Somehow my mind had been transported into my parents' past.
My father was the first to speak.
"When did these dreams start and how often do you have them?"
"They started on my ninth birthday and I've had them every year around that same time."
"Did anything unusual happen on your birthday?"
"I hit a triple."
"Anything else?"
"The only other thing I can remember is the rock I found."
"The rock you keep near your bed?"
"Yes."
"I never really paid much attention to it. I mean, kids save all sorts of things. Can I look at it?"
I walked to my bedroom and carried the rock back to my father.
As he examined it he remarked, "Definitely not the usual type of rock you find around here"
"And sometimes it glows."
"When does it glow?"
"Only around the time that I have my dreams."
He handed the rock back to me and remarked, "Maybe we should have someone look at it. It might be radioactive or something."
"I'd rather not. Something tells me I'd never get it back. Dad, why is mom crying?"
"There's something you should know but I promised your mom that she'd be the one to tell you. Be patient and don't press her for the story. Hell, you might even find out before she tells you if your dreams continue."
I agreed to honor my father's wish. He was right though. The dreams did eventually reveal the secret.
James wasn't a "player" but he did date many girls. That was until he dated my mom. After that, there was only one person he was interested in and they were engaged after graduating high school. But that raised a new question. Why didn't my mom marry James instead of my dad? Did he change his mind? Did she?
It would be another year before James' decision about military service was known to me. He wanted to see the world before he settled down and so he enlisted in the Navy after graduating high school although he promised my mom that once his enlistment was over, they'd never be separated again.
My mom took that news hard. Four years was a long time to wait and she broke off their engagement. She made it clear that she loved him and didn't rule out marrying him but they'd have to talk about it when he returned.
The time he spent in the Navy ranged from being boring as hell to days where his life was on the line. He and my mom wrote often but their letters didn't always tell everything. There were times he couldn't reveal where he was stationed and she never revealed that she was pregnant. In her mind, he had enough to worry about. It seemed that the world was always at war somewhere and the United States participated in most if not all of them. Most of the time, the ship he was on was just used to deliver supplies or as a show of strength in support of some foreign government but that changed in March of 2006 when the US Navy was assigned to protect merchant ships from pirates off the coast of Africa.
If I thought things were weird before, the next dream I had was on a whole different level of crazy.
As soon as I dozed off I heard someone shake me and call my name, only it wasn't my name.
"James, James, stay awake."
"What did you call me?"
"James. That is your name isn't it? James Landy. Or would you rather I call you dumbass."
"Where am I?"
"Where are you? You're in a fucking Zodiac attack boat in the fucking ocean off the coast of Somalia and if you don't get your head on straight you won't have one."
Holy shit. I wasn't watching the action from the sidelines now. I was in the body of James Landy with men in other ships shooting at me. Until that moment I had never held a gun, much less used one. The good news is that although I was in his head, James was still in control of his actions with all of the knowledge and abilities learned in the service.
In addition to the firepower on the deck of its ships, the US Navy employed RHIBs to fight pirates. Rigid Hull Inflatable Boats commonly called Zodiacs are fast and maneuverable but they offer little protection. For that reason, even though the pirate fleet was chased away there were casualties and James was among them. James was twenty-two at the time and I experienced his death as he did, the pain from the bullets, the numbness that followed and the sense when life slipped away. The big difference, of course, was that I survived the ordeal, waking up with a severe headache. The only thing that kept me from totally freaking out at somehow being responsible for his death was the realization that the battle had already taken place. I was just observing it from a different perspective.
I still don't understand how any of it was possible, how I could see and feel those things. They were beyond human ability. The only explanation I could give was that the rock was somehow responsible. I didn't know how it worked its magic but I did realize how dangerous it might be in the wrong hands. So far it had shown me the past which led to my existence. If it continued, it might reach the present day. What then? Would the dreams stop or continue into my future? Knowing the past was one thing, knowing the future would be too much power for anyone. The rock had to be protected or destroyed. I still had questions about how my mom and dad got together but after those were answered I'd have to make some decisions about the rock.
My yearly week of dreams was nearly over but there was still enough time to learn more of the story. After that dinner conversation with my dad there was no further mention of my dreams until a few weeks later. But I'm getting a little ahead of myself.
My next dreams involved the period after my mom learned of James' death. The news hit her hard and she rarely appeared in public any more. Not only had she lost the love of her life but after the birth of her child she'd be a single mother. There were many in town who did not approve of her situation and they made it known.
Her family was supportive along with one other person who visited constantly to try to get her out of her depression, my future dad. I was witness to one of their most important conversations.
"Go away!"
"You can't hide from the world forever."
"Leave me alone."
"I can't."
'Why not?"
"I love you. I've loved you since you were eight years old but I was too shy to say anything. Later, you had James and there was no way I could compete but I remained a friend."
"Look at me. I'm unmarried, pregnant and the object of gossip all over town. Some women don't even hide it. They make comments loud enough for me to hear."
"I can't change the pregnant part but I can do something else. Marry me."
"You're crazy."
"I realize it would be just a marriage of convenience for you, but I can't see you like this every day. I love you that much. In time, perhaps you'll feel something for me but if not, I'll grant you a divorce whenever you ask. Right now you need me as much as I need you although in a different way."
The features on my mom's face softened as she replied in a much quieter voice, "You really are crazy, you know that?"
"Love does that to people."
My mom didn't agree immediately, in fact it wasn't until almost her baby's due date that she agreed to marry my dad.
Now I understood why my mother was crying the day I mentioned James' name. The man who I will always consider my dad wasn't my biological father. James was. And though the truth had been a secret to me until that moment, my mother did provide a hidden message as to my father's true identity. I never noticed it before but if you rearrange the letters of Dylan, they spell Landy.
As I closed the journal, I took a deep breath. I didn't see that coming. One more day and I'd be home. I'd finish reading the journal there.
I barely remember driving the last hundred miles. Having made that trip many times, I was on autopilot as I continued to think about the journal. I pulled into the driveway of my home and unloaded the car. Mundane things like doing the laundry would wait another day. I needed to find out what scared Dylan enough to fear for his life.
It was immediately apparent from the way my house was decorated that a single male lived in it. There was no evidence of a feminine touch. The house had no basement so the living room contained a seventy inch TV, a leather couch and a recliner. There were no family pictures and the windows had shades but no drapes. I felt no need to spend a lot of money on a place I spent so little time in. I think I spent more time in my car than that house. The living room also had a well-stocked bar for those times that my favorite teams were playing. To me, it was the next best thing to being at the games.
I moved a snack table next to the recliner, poured myself a tall drink and placed it on the table. I had a feeling I might need it. Retrieving the journal from my suitcase, I settled in for another chapter in the life of Dylan Roberts.
A few days later I was alone with my dad while mom was fixing dinner and I just said two words, "I know."
"Another dream?"
