8.13.2018

The Dream Cages #11

Ronan was not there.

Matthew was.

Adam paused in the doorway of the barn and watched as Matthew opened a stall and coaxed a black and white cow out with nothing more than an encouraging wave of his hand and his brilliant smile. Matthew was something of a cuckoo in the Lynch nest; he had his mother's golden hair, and his smile was softer than his brothers'. But Adam had seen the same smile on Ronan, rarely, and usually when Ronan thought no one was looking. Matthew was Ronan's gooey center made flesh, as though Ronan, when dreaming him, had wanted to put his vulnerability elsewhere so that he could safeguard it and not carry it with him. It hadn't worked; Ronan still had plenty of soft spots if one knew where to prod. Adam suspected he was one of those spots, a bruise waiting to manifest on Ronan's heart.

Don't break him, Adam.

But high school sweethearts seldom lasted forever. Especially when one left home and one adamantly refused to.

Later. Every time Adam started to board this train of thought—and he found himself at the station more often than he liked—he decided to wait for the next one. There were always other things that took priority: like school work, or being stuck in Cabeswater.

The cow followed willingly as Matthew turned and walked to the back of the barn where another door stood open. Adam saw the boombox set on a hay bale nearby. The cow's ear flicked as it passed the music (if it could be called music), and Matthew stepped aside to allow the cow to pass out into the pasture beyond. "Atta girl," he told the cow. "Go play." Then he turned to look down the row of stalls. "Who's next?"

Matthew spotted Adam then, their eyes meeting, though Matthew didn't immediately register any recognition. For a split second Adam thought maybe his body wasn't physical after all, that Matthew couldn't see him. But then Matthew said, "Hey."

"Hey," Adam echoed. He stepped inside the barn and eyed the cows, all of which he recognized. But now they were awake. "Where's Ronan?"

Matthew shrugged. "No idea. Haven't seen him."

"What are you doing here?"

"Cows," said Matthew.

"Yeah, but..." Adam frowned. "You know this isn't actually the Barns, right?"

Matthew shrugged. "It is, though. I mean, it's here and I'm here, so it's real to me."

"But you... Your body, your physical self... Where are you really?"

"As far as I know, I'm here. Home is where the consciousness is, I guess. Want to help me get these ladies out into the pasture?"

Adam didn't want to; he wanted to go look for Ronan. But he felt bad saying no, so he did his best to help. It took more cajoling from him than Matthew. The cows clearly had misgivings when they saw Adam and were slow to move. Only when they saw their fellows going out did they follow.

"Lunchtime," Matthew said cheerfully as the last brown cow swished through the back door, and Adam wasn't sure whether he meant for them or the bovines. "Come on," and Matthew said it to Adam the same way he had to the cows. "Let's wash up and eat."

"Aren't you worried?" Adam asked as they trailed toward the house.

"About what?"

"Yourself. How you got here. How to get back to your body and your life."

"Nah," said Matthew. He pulled open the screen door and held it for Adam.

"Well, are you worried about Ronan?"

The door snapped shut behind Matthew like a trap, and for the first time the youngest Lynch appeared something less than happy. Not concerned, exactly, but maybe doubtful. "Should I be?"

"I don't know! Where is he?"

Matthew shook his head. The doubt began to morph into fear.

Adam knew Ronan would never forgive him if he made Matthew cry. So he said, "I'm sure he's fine." After all, he's not stuck here like us. But that would be saying too much.

Matthew's expression cleared and he walked past Adam to the kitchen sink. "I'll make us grilled cheese and soup," he pronounced, then paused and looked over his shoulder. "Is that okay?"

"That's fine," said Adam. It's fine. This is all just fine.

The screen door creaked open again, and Adam turned to see Ronan standing there, countenance thunderous.

"What the fuck is going on?"

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