Wake up, Lavender!

The sun was high, and the seagulls soared through the air without a care in the world. “The sand feels so amazing on my toes”, the woman thought, “like cozy socks, and the breeze from the ocean is so warm. As she indulged in that moment of bliss her lips parted, “mmm, it’s almost erotic. I should sit and take it all in, I wish I had a blanket. No matter.” She finds a spot on the beach and sits, then lays on her back and rests her hands on the point between her sunflower yellow bikini top and bottom. “Oh my goodness, I could stay here forever.”

After a few moments, she shuts her eyes. A low but very distinct whisper rings through her ears, “remember”. Startled, she sits up, “What the….Hello? Hmm, maybe I’ve been in the sun too long?” She begins to lay back on the sand but a brisk breeze blows past her giving her a chilling and eerie feeling. She became a little concerned as this feeling was not something one would normally feel. She looked around but it seemed nothing was there. As she turned to look at the east side of the beach the whisper returned, “Remember your purpose.” Startled, she stood up. “Ok, what the hell was that?” She nervously looked in both directions of the shoreline and still nothing. At that moment, a grey sky rapidly rolls in. “Storm clouds?”, she questioned. She became even more worried. A loud crash of thunder followed by lightning shook through her and forced a loud squeal from the depths of her throat. “Fuck, I need to find shelter!” The winds became enraged as it was obvious from the reaction of the sea. In only moments, the ocean went from a beautiful iridescent blue of gentle movent to violent grey walls of intensity. She began to make her way down the shoreline in hopes to find some sort of shelter. The loud crashing of the thunder and high winds became increasingly too much for her. The sky became dark as if someone removed the sun from the sky.

A loud maniacal laugh echoed as the woman who is now running frantically continued to look for shelter. The laughing, the storm, and the winds would not let up. She screams, “Who are you, leave me alone!” With an “oomph” she found herself face down in the bleak and grim sand. “Fuck!” She tripped over something. “Ouch!” Feeling a slight but very prominent pain in her right foot she flips over and claps it. “Damn it, what the hell did I trip over” she looks over at the area where she fell and saw a corner of something sticking out. Curious, she retrieves it. “What’s this?” she flips it over and brushes off as much sand as she possibly could from the top. “A notebook?” It was indeed a notebook, a small black leather-bound notebook with a gold crescent moon symbol and a double-lined arrow engraved on its cover. She stared at it a second and as she did the whisper returned, “Remember”. “Remember what?” she inquisitively asked. Just as those words left her lips the maniacal laugh returned. Abruptly startled from her intrigue of the notebook, her gaze focused on a tropical tree-filled area, opposite the side of her and the angry waves. “Have those trees always been there?” Like a dark green abyss, the trees swayed to the beat of the winds which have calmed a bit. She stared intensely into the darkness as if she knew someone or something would emerge at any moment and just like that a loud crash rang out.

A frantic gasp escaped her lips as her eyes flew open. Once again a loud crash echoes and a high pitch scream bursts from her. Startled, she sits up in her bed and takes a moment to gather her thoughts then reaches over to her nightstand to turn the lamp on. “Fuck, again?” She rubs her eyes with her right hand and takes a deep sigh. “Why do I keep having the same dream? Maybe I need a vacation?” She reaches for her cell phone to look at the time. “Of course it’s 3 am, ugh!” She turns to her window which is filled with rain droplets from the storm. She sets her phone back down and swirls her feet over the side of the bed and noticed a mark on her right foot. “What the hell?” A small but noticeable bruise marked her mocha skin spanning from her big toe to the second one. “How on earth did I…” before she could finish, she remembered the fall she had in the dream. “But that’s not possible...right?” She bent over and touched the bruise. Her face twisted from the jolt of pain, “how?” She put on her slippers, grabbed her phone, and headed to the bathroom. After that, she made her way towards the kitchen and filled a kettle with water. She then grabbed a purple mug that read “Better Days Await”, and tossed in some raw sugar, honey, and a chamomile tea bag. As she waited for the kettle to whistle, she began to research on her phone if it’s possible to get bruises in your sleep. She skimmed articles as none of them pertained to her particular situation. She tapped her fingers on the counter frustrated by not finding any results but then she remembered the cover of the book and began searching for symbolisms for crescent moons and arrows. The kettle began to whistle so she stopped to make her tea. She sat on a high stool at the marble counter island not too far from the stove, blew ever so gently at the steaming hot brew, and took a sip. As she drank, her mind began to wander going over every aspect of that dream. "Every few nights the same thing, what does it mean?" She sighed then glanced at her phone and remembered she had work in a few hours. She grabbed her cup, checked to make sure she turned the burner off to the stove then made her way back to her room. The rain still played musical taps on the window. She sat her cup on the nightstand, took off her slippers, and climbed into bed. There are palm trees and shrubs outside of her Florida apartment home and every time it rains the shadows of them dance on her wall. The glow of her lamp and the moonlight from her window gives them a spotlight to perform with great prestige. She smiled as she’s always enjoyed the display.

She sat back on her abundance of pillows and began to sip her tea. After a few more sips she placed the cup on the stand and snuggled under her blanket shutting her eyes. In a low voice, "Maybe if I focus, I can continue the dream from where it left off. Then again", she remembered the storm and the darkened palm trees “maybe not.”

The alarm blared waking a very tired Lavender Jennings who is a part-time column writer for the Florida Tribune as well as a volunteer for the local animal shelter. “Ugh, I don’t want to get up.” The alarm continues to sound until she finally swipes the prompt on her phone to dismiss it. She pulls the blanket over her head wishing for a few more moments of sleep but her consciousness and the unpaid bills were screaming for her to leave her cotton-lined comfort. Rushing to freshen up, the doorbell rings. “Who could that be? Just a minute!”, she screamed. She gurgled with a mouth full of toothpaste, quickly spits, and wiped her mouth before darting to the door. As she scurried she inadvertently stumped her foot on the edge of the sofa. “Fuck!!” she screamed, “It had to be that foot.” The bell rang again, “I’m coming!” She hobbled to the door trying to fight the tears that were forming from the pain she was feeling. She opened the door, “I...um ok?” There was no one there. She looked down the path of her cobbled stone walkway, also left and right which are additional paths that lead to other apartment homes similar to hers. Each path was surrounded by shrubs, rose bushes, and palm trees which according to Lavender was perfect for the grand scale, rapist, ax murder, or burglar. “It’s probably those damn teenagers again.” As she began to turn, a little nudge prompted her to look down. She found a long black box with a purple ribbon and a little white card attached. She raised her eyebrow, bent down to pick it up, and took one last surveillance of the area; confirming there was no one in sight. After shutting the door and limping to the coffee table, she set the box down and plopped on the sofa. She slowly removed the card from the box and opened it. It read, “The journey may all be a dream but the answers you seek are within.” She looked at the message strangely, set it aside, and began to untie the purple silky bow. Carefully removing the lid she discovered 7 purple roses carefully bundled with baby breaths. “Oh my goddess these are gorgeous, but who sent them?” She noticed a thin chained necklace hanging from one of the roses with a key attached. “That’s odd, who would send a key?” Lost in nostalgia, her cell phone rings from the kitchen. “Oh crap, that’s probably Tanya.” She put the necklace around her neck, stuck the card in her back pocket, and ran to get her cell, house keys, and purse. She darted out the door and down the walkway where a red Nissan Maxima was waiting. She hopped in the passenger side, “my bad.” Tanya, a small framed and fair-skinned woman with long jet black hair passed a Starbucks cup to Lavendar, then dropped her Versage glasses to the edge of her nose like a teacher ready to scold a student. “Damn girl, are you trying to make us late, you know Terry is a stickler for punctuality.” “I know, I know”, said Lavender. Tanya, shifted the car into drive and said, “What were you doing in there, stroking one out?”. Barely getting the sip of Starbucks down, Lavender damn near choked from the words she heard. “Wow, really?” she said glaring at Tanya. Tanya, giggled “girl, I do it religiously, you gotta do what you gotta do.” Lavender shook her head then looked out the window.

After arriving at the Tribune, Lavender and Tanya hurried to their desks before the Editor noticed they were late. Lavender turned on her computer to finish her article on the disappearance of 3 local fishermen. She began typing but couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful roses so she pulled the key from around her neck and pulled out the card from her back pocket. The key was small and not something made for a door. “The journey may all be a dream but the answers you seek are within, and no signature.” She noticed the key had the numbers “111” engraved on them. “What are you doing with a lockbox key?” Tanya blurted. “Holy crap, you scared me” Lavender exclaimed. Tanya took the key, “it is a lockbox key, did you store something in there? Lavender, took the key back, “no nosey, it was a gift.” “From who”, Tanya asked curiously. “I don’t know”, said Lavendar and passed Tanya the card. Tanya read the card, “well that’s whack, there’s no name.” Lavender noticed some of the letters on the card were bold and after decoding them it read “Journey Mall Dream”. “Isn’t there a lockbox service in the Journey Mall on Dreamwood road?”, Lavender asked. “Tanya replied, “Yea it is.” Lavender jumped up, “Cover for me”. “But…”, but before Tanya could respond Lavendar was already out the door. She caught a taxi to the mall.

After she arrived, she saw a man at the counter of the lockbox service. “Good Afternoon Miss Jennings, I’ve been expecting you, follow me please. Lavender, was amazed and also concerned at how he knew her name but she followed him through a corridor to a room with several brass lockboxes and a small round table with one chair. “Have a seat please” the gentleman instructed. So she did. “May I have your key?” Lavender hesitated for a moment then complied. He looked at the key and matched it to a door with the number 111. He unlocked it and pulled out a box that had numbers 0 through 9 on them. “I hope you remember your 3 digit code as you only get 3 attempts.” The gentleman smiled after his statement then left her alone. “3 digit code?” she thought. She noticed an engraving on the box which was the same symbol as the small notebook from her dream. “What on earth?” She whispered, then thought for a second what the code could be. “There were distinctly 7 roses, not 12 nor 6 like most roses that are delivered.” She thought about it some more and decided to enter the number 007, sure enough, the box opened revealing a small slip of paper folded in half. She took it out and gasped. It was a check made out to her in the amount of $20,000 dollars. “What on earth is going on?”

To be continued...