Chapter 1:

The Recurring Dream

Feathery snowflakes floated outside my living room window, creating a thin layer of icy dust on the pavement below. Northern Alberta was known to have two seasons—construction and winter. The latter had begun early this year, and while my mom and dad seemed to take offense to its early onset, I didn't mind. I always found winter calming. Life would slow to a crawl in its embrace; the noise of summer would cease. It was the only time of year I could hear myself think—at least, normally it was.

But tonight my concentration was constantly being broken by my mom. She kept sighing from her place on the sofa and glancing over at the phone, never losing her grip on the romance novel she clung to like a life preserver in a storm. As far as I could tell, the book was little more than a prop. In the two hours she had been sitting with me, not a single page had been turned.

To say she was acting weird would be as much an understatement as to call an Albertan winter 'chilly'. By the way she looked at our gold accented rotary phone, it was as though she expected her will to make the contraption ring. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out what she was so anxious about. The doctor told us yesterday I just had the flu.

"Mom? Could I get your opinion on something?" I said, flailing my arms like a dancing flame. It fell on me to snap her out of whatever it was that haunted her, and I could think of no better distraction than the map I was currently coloring.

The worried glower etched on her face softened as she looked up at me with a smile. She closed her book, climbed out of our blue corduroy recliner, and joined me on the floor.

"Sure, what ya working on?"

"Awesome Waters!"

I waved my hands over a map of the theme park she and I had been working on together. No one in my family had a knack for drawing so the design was little more than stick figures and crude sketches, but I was proud of it anyway. My mom and I had poured countless hours into it over the past few weeks, ever since my recurring dreams began. It was odd at first, to dream of the same place night after night. But the park was so full of hope and happiness, I felt compelled to bring it to life.

"Oh!" Mom said, playfully ruffling my hair. "I didn't know you were working on this all by yourself. You should've told me; I love our little park!"

Her words warmed my heart. I was worried she might think me crazy when I first told her about the dreams. Instead, she'd surprised me. Where most people would have given me a cockeyed stare or laughed in my face, my mom dove in feet first.

It was as though she could see the bottlenose dolphin shows as clearly as I could. Everything we’d created, from the design of their shimmering coral reef tanks to Awesome Water's aquatic-themed attractions, was as real to her as it was to me. It was to be a land of eternal summer; where the smell of popcorn and coconut oil filled the air. Where dancing, singing mascots of delightfully cartoonish sea creatures could inspire a smile on even the most stubborn of frowns.

I imagined exuberant crowds shuffling past one another, taking in the aroma of baked vanilla and chocolate wafting out from nearby bakeries. Visitors on their way to Whale Mountain, the park's log-ride, popping by one of the many Whack-An-Ooze games, where players beat-up rapidly appearing blobs of black gunk—that is, if I could ever get the ooze’s design right. I had meant for the scowling creatures to represent pollution. Unfortunately, in their present state, they looked more like the ghosts from Pac-Man.

Still, there was something for everyone. Even if the park's thirty-six rides, theater, aquatic exhibits, or shows didn't interest you, there was always the world's largest arcade. A design that came to me one night in a dream. An engineering marvel, composed of purple steel and glass, which took the form of an octopus. Its giant tentacles would house multiple floors of arcade machines, where only the latest and greatest in the realm of video games would be found.

Not to be outdone, my mom had recently come up with the design for a key piece we had been missing from the entrance. For some reason, what would greet people from the parking lot had always eluded me. My mom only needed to think on the problem for a few moments though, before it became obvious to her. There was to be a garden of daffodils just beyond the dozens of ticketing booths littering the entrance. Above them, would now hang an animatronic dolphin. The massive robotic mammal would broadcast a welcome message while waving its tail with unbridled enthusiasm. Granted, we hadn't come up with a name for the grinning greeter yet, but we were working on it. It was next on the agenda, right after we figured out a few kinks in the Pete and Greg Variety Show.

Mom beamed at me as she surveyed the map. "It looks like it's almost done. I can't believe how much work you've put into this thing."

"Well, I had a little help," I said with a wink.

She laughed, a small victory in and of itself, and waved the compliment away. "I barely did anything."

I could have disputed her claim but, knowing her, we would have been debating who put in more effort than who for hours. A quick eye roll would suffice—one long enough to make sure she knew that I hadn't let her comment slip. "Sure, sure. Anyway, I was dreaming about the park again last night, and guess what? I finally saw Pete."

"Oh great!"

"No, not really. We have a problem."

Her smile slumped slightly. "What kind of problem?"

"Look!"

I showed her the drawing I'd made, depicting a black and white-haired mouse with red suspenders and oversized white gloves.

She studied the character for a moment, before a crease of confusion fell over her brow. "But he's so cute! There's nothing wrong with the way he looks, is there?"

"Are you kidding me?" I took a calming breath. "Never mind. The real issue, is why a mouse would be in Awesome Waters in the first place."

"Well, someone has to play with the catfish."

"Mom!"

She chuckled; I steamed. We had a flaw in our flagship act, so this was no laughing matter.  

"Right, right. Of course," Mom replied, attempting to stifle her laughter with a somber nod. "Why not make him another animal, then? He doesn't need to be a mouse, does he?"

"No, I guess he doesn't," I admitted, a wave of relief sweeping my frustration away. "Good point! What should we change him to?"

While we contemplated the fate of Pete, our front door opened and closed upstairs. Two sets of footsteps were stomping snow on the welcome mat: one, had an upbeat, energetic voice that I recognized instantly as my brother, Shawn's. It was the other set—the one belonging to whomever had brought him home—that came as a surprise. My grandma was here. For some reason, she must have picked up Shawn from hockey practice. It was too early for him to be home though, and far too late for her to be dropping by for a visit. None of this made any sense. Grandma lived in Edmonton; a forty-minute drive from her house to ours. She came over pretty regularly on weekends, but never on a school night.

"What's Grandma doing here?" I asked. 

"Since Dad’s in Hudson Bay for work, I asked her to come get Shawn. I didn't want to miss the doctor if she called."

"Why would the doctor call? We just saw her yesterday."

"I know, but—" her voice caught on itself as her eyes fell to the map of Awesome Waters. I followed her gaze, to find she was staring at a stick figure I had drawn some hours earlier. It was nothing special, just a crude depiction of myself in a black suit and red tie.

"Ryan, who's this?" she asked.

"Me..." I huffed. "It's what I wore in the park last night. "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"

The humor drained from her face as she turned to look out the window. "It's not that. Never mind."

It took me longer than it should have to realize what was wrong. We'd buried Grandpa a year ago in the same color of suit and tie. How could I have been so careless? A week hadn't gone by without her locking herself in the bathroom to cry. We hadn't had the opportunity to talk about it yet—it'd been too difficult a topic to bring up. But he had been my hero, too. It was still odd to think I would never see him again.

I gave her sleeve a tug, hoping to get our derailed train of a night back on track. "But I thought you liked magicians?"

She cleared her throat and wiped her shimmering blue eyes. "Magicians?"

"Yeah. I hadn't finished drawing my top hat yet. Last night was so cool, Mom! I could perform all sorts of magic tricks, and even had this cool platypus-headed cane."

A light flickered back to life inside her and she held me tight in her arms. "I love you so much, little buddy."

My head nestled into her shoulder. "Right back at ya."

She rocked me back and forth until a series of rapid stomps steamrolled down the stairs. Shawn headed straight for us, bouncing across the room with his blonde mop of hair and an ear-to-ear grin.

"What's this?" he asked, homing in on the map.

"Awesome Waters! It's the theme park Mom and I have been working on."

I hadn't told him much about my dreams yet, but Shawn accepted my answer all the same. He continued to scan the buildings and characters on the map, before pointing at Pete with a snicker. "And whose idea was he?"

A collective groan escaped from my mom and me. "We were just talking about him. His name's Pete. He's a mouse, but I don't really think that fits with the theme of the park. Mom and I can't think of what else to make him, though."

Shawn considered this for a moment, before flopping an arm over my shoulder. “What about a rat?”

"Gross! How is a rat any better?"

"No, just picture it!" Shawn gestured with one hand in front of us, as if he could see his idea coming to life. "You could dress him up like a hobo and call him Petey! Come on, what do you think?"

A taunting smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he awaited my rebuttal, but I just shoved him away. I'd been trying desperately to hide how much I hated the stupid nickname for over a month now. Ever since our family vacation where Mom claimed that if she hadn't named me Ryan, she would have called me Petey instead. I wished I hadn't thrown such a fit. My pleas for her to stop teasing me had only encouraged my brother to make it into a running gag.

Shawn started chanting, “Petey, Petey!” but before Mom could scold him, Grandma came marching down the stairs to join us. She was humming something unrecognizable in her jolly, monotone voice; the jarring sound never failed to bring our arguments to a screeching halt. No one in my family could ever tell what song she was trying to imitate. It could have been any tune in the history of humanity and her audience would be none the wiser.

 "Shawn?" she asked, stopping her song to take a sip of her tea. "I'm really curious about these wasps of yours."

A shiver of disgust rang through my body. The only thing I hated more than wasps, were needles.

My brother pretended to gag. "Ugh. No, Grandma! I told you in the car; I don't even want to do that stupid report anymore."

She giggled and leaned in with a sly grin. "But your brother's awake. He's shown you what he's been working on, don't you think you should return the favor?"

My mom joined Grandma on the couch, inviting me to sit next to her with a pat to the cushion at her side.

"Yeah, come on Shawn! We'd love to hear your presentation! I'm sure your brother does too, right Ryan?"

I shrugged. "Sure. Why wasps though?"

"I thought they'd be cool but..." his words deflated as he continued, "…they're not. They're just gross. I asked Mrs. Anderson if I could switch, but she wouldn't let me. It's not fair. Everyone's going to think I'm weird."

A yawn escaped me as I lay my head on Mom's lap. There was no way I was making it through to the end at this rate. "Why are they so gross?"

"For starters, some of them lay their eggs inside caterpillars. It's so mean! Why would anything do something like that?"

"It's in their nature, I guess," my mom offered. "But don't worry about that, Shawn. You put a lot of work into this, didn't you? I'm sure it'll be great!"

Shawn sighed and began, but I was already struggling to keep my eyes open. I might have thought the winged devils terrifying in reality, but science always found a way to make things boring.

"Okay," he continued, his voice dampening to a whisper. "But don't say I didn't warn you. The Vespula germanica is..."

***

My bedroom door bounced off the doorjamb—loudly. The racket jolted me awake, and I whipped my head around to find Mom standing in the hallway. Her focus shifted from me, to my plush doll Webber as it soared through the air on a collision course with her head. I cringed but, luckily, her reflexes were sharp and she plucked him out of the air.

"Nice catch!" I said through a yawn.

She set Webber down on my dresser and sighed. "Sorry buddy, I didn't mean to startle you."

I sat up, my head pounding with fatigue. "It's okay. I must've fallen asleep again, eh? Is something wrong?"

My mom paused, as if the question I'd asked were a loaded one. She came to the edge of my bed and put her hand on my shoulder.

"No—I don’t know. We need to get going, though. Do you think you can be ready in ten minutes?"

"What? Why?"

"We have to go to Edmonton."

Edmonton—the capital city of Alberta. Some of the best times in my young life had been there. But we'd never visited on a school day. It was the middle of the week; two hours before I was normally supposed to be up. And with my grandma coming to town last night, there was definitely something going on—something she wasn't telling me.

"West Edmonton Mall won't even be open yet..." I probed.

My mom's eyes welled up and she turned to leave. "We're not going to the mall, hunny."

Why was she so upset? If I wasn't going to school, it had to be a good thing, didn't it? Unless...

"Is Dad okay?" I asked.

"He'll be coming home early from his trip, but he's fine. He's meeting us there."

Relieved as I was, her answer left me with more questions. If dad wasn't hurt, then what was going on? Why keep me in the dark? It wasn't like her to be so secretive.

"If he's meeting us there," I started, "then what's the hurry? And where's there?"

She checked her watch and shook her head. "Ryan, I promise—I'll explain in the car if you can stay awake. For now, just get some clothes on and hurry downstairs. Can you do that for me, please? We need to get going."

"I guess the clouds are rolling in here too," I mumbled.

"What?"

"Awesome Waters, Mom. I was dreaming about it last night again, and you know how it's always sunny there? Well, last night there was a storm brewing. The whole place felt cold, dark, and just plain weird. Now, I wake up and you're acting bizarre, too."

A tear rolled down her cheek, and she swatted it away as if hoping I wouldn’t notice. "Ryan, I'm not meaning to worry you, I just can't, okay? Please. I need you to trust me."

The sight of my mother's moistened cheeks broke my heart. She'd always been my best friend. Whatever was going on, I couldn't make it any harder on her. With a stifled groan, I threw back the covers, got dressed, and joined her in the hall.

We were walking hand in hand down the stairs when my brother's voice caught up with us. From the sounds of things, my grandma was giving him the same wakeup call that Mom had given me moments earlier.

My face quirked with confusion as I turned to ask, "Did Grandma stay over last night?"

"Yeah," she replied. "She helped me bring you up to bed."

So that's how I got upstairs.

A heavy silence fell between us as we continued our descent. Each step we took melted the soft carpet through my socked feet. We came to a stop on the cool linoleum floor of our house's entryway, where I peered out the window and sighed. God, I loved this time of year. The frosted grass and dusting of snow from the night before meant my birthday would soon be here.

My eyes wandered to Mom, forming a question that died on my lips. I wanted to ask how many friends I could invite this year, but couldn't bring myself to mouth the words. She was staring unseeing into the distance; far removed from her own experience. It was as though my best friend had just shape-shifted into a stranger before me. And while I might have found the ambiguity of where we were going terrifying, seeing her like this was almost worse.

  I decided to keep quiet for her sake. My saying that she was acting weird before had really cut her deep. I couldn't push the issue—at least not for now. In the meantime, I needed a distraction. Since my birthday was only a month away, maybe planning it would take my mind off of whatever was going on. This year, I wanted to do something special. Something to cast away the fatigue which had plagued me over the past few weeks. But where?

"Ryan, you okay?" my mom asked.

I must have been staring off into the distance too. "I guess so. Just thinking about my birthday."

Mom's chin trembled, and my heart sunk. Were we tight on money or something?

"We can have it anywhere,” I offered. “It doesn’t have to be big!"

Her beaten down expression jolted to life, and she pulled me in for a hug—one tight enough to squeeze the breath from my lungs. "When you're better, Ryan, I'll take you anywhere you want to go. Okay?"

Better? I've just been a little tired.

Her shoulder was buried in my mouth, so all I could spit out was, "Ohmfay."

She pulled away, searching my eyes for an answer to some unspoken question, then set my jacket and shoes out on the stairs. Her hand folded over mine, giving it our secret handshake which mimed the words 'I love you' with three gentle squeezes.

I beamed up at her and squeezed back. The gesture might not have answered any of my lingering questions, but it put my mind at ease all the same. My eyes followed her as I begrudgingly put on my shoes and coat. She was heading back upstairs, and had almost run into my grandma as she turned the corner to join us.

My fingers fumbled with the laces of my shoes, while I watched them exchange flustered apologies. Anxiety flooded my fingers faster than my brain could react. Even something as simple as tying my shoes was proving to be a challenge. Luckily for me and my pride, neither my grandma nor mom had noticed. I probably had another minute or two to settle my nerves before they came back to check on me.

"Is Shawn ready to go?" my mom asked.

As if on cue, my brother joined the party and rubbed his eyes. "Mom! What gives? School doesn't start for a couple hours."

She pivoted to face my equally exhausted brother, whose jeans were tucked into his socks. It was that kind of morning.

"You won't be going today," my mom explained.

"But my report on wasps is due!"

"Don't worry, hunny. I got you an extension. Now hurry up and get ready, okay?"

My brother groaned while I returned to the unfinished task at my feet. Oddly enough, my shoes were already tied. I blinked at the laces in disbelief for a moment, before shrugging it off. My subconscious must've gotten fed up with waiting for me to get my act together.

"If I have more time to practice, maybe it won't put people to sleep," my brother said, volleying a wave of mock frustration in my direction.

His words stung, but as our eyes met, his frustration quickly faded to regret. He'd been busy with after-school activities lately, and by the time he got home I'd already be in bed. Last night seemed like the first time we'd seen one another in weeks. I could tell he missed our video game sessions and cartoon binges every bit as much as I did.

"It wasn't boring," I said at last. "But you know how I feel about wasps."

My brother lit up, bounding down the stairs to meet me. "Well, I didn't pick them just because they were cool," he said with a wink. "I knew I'd have to practice the speech for you a few times, too. But my plan totally backfired, and now I get why you hate them."

I laughed and gave him a quick hug, but as soon as my arms wrapped around him… the horizon flipped. Shawn snickered, misinterpreting my dizzy spell as a joke, and gave me a playful push away. I was too disoriented to catch myself; the dizziness overtook me, and I fell headfirst into the wall.

My ears rung from the impact in a pulsing, swirling circus of pain. I could hear my mom’s disjointed voice as the throbbing took hold, and I glanced up to see her bounding down the stairs. Instantly her hands were upon me; one checking the back of my head for blood and the other helping me to my feet. Luckily, her palm was clean, and her body deflated with relief.

A flash of anger and fear swept across her face as she turned to face my brother. She was a coiled spring ready to pop—that is, until she saw the tears building in his eyes.

"It wasn't his fault," I said. "I got dizzy is all."

"Ahh. I see. Well, just try and be more careful. Okay, Shawn?" Mom turned to face Grandma. "And thank you so much for helping me while Bob's away. Can you make sure Shawn has some toys? We might be there awhile."

Grandma nodded and went with my brother to his room. They returned a few moments later with a backpack full of action figures and lead the way to the garage, where my mom's 1990 Plymouth Acclaim lay in wait.

The quiet vibrations of the car revving to life quenched any questions I had of our destination. I’d always found the gentle hum of the machine comforting and, with how tired I was, knew it was only a matter of time before the sleep took hold once more. My head sunk into the back of the plush passenger seat as we rolled off the driveway and into the frosty September morning. I could barely keep my eyes open as we hit the highway, but my mom's were able to watch over both me and the road.

"I love you so much," my mom soothed. "Hold on a just little while longer. We're almost there."

Smiling back at her worried, blurring face, my heavy eyes closed and ushered me into the sweet sanctity of sleep.

***