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Chapter XXXV pgs. 229-231
At three twenty-five a.m. Alex screamed and sat bolt upright in bed, but he didn’t wake up. Vivian debated whether to wake him up or not. He’d been having nightmares for quite some time now. A few times when she’d wakened him up, he had just shivered and refused to tell her anything. Then he’d been afraid to go back to sleep, only to waken screaming all over again. Well, no wonder with all the pressure he was under. He thrashed in his sleep, and Vivian wrapped a robe around herself and, feeling a little guilty for leaving Alex, went to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. It seemed that neither one of them was getting much sleep lately. She wished Alex would tell her what was so wrong, but he’d fly into a rage whenever she asked.
In Alex’s dream he stood at the top of the Houston conference center like a god, watching the world crawl beneath him. The building melted, and he sat astride a breeze as he would a cushion. He stretched his arms up, then sideways and found he could glide carried on the wind. The sensation of soaring was pleasant, thrilling, and he gloried in rising on an updraft, then swooping down towards the earth below, seeing how low he could get before he arched his head up to rise again.
Higher and higher he climbed, then jackknifed into what was almost a free fall. Faster and faster, the earth rose to meet him, lush, soft, and tropical with vines and ferns. Faster still, wind rushed into his face. But suddenly below him were soldiers, and a screaming woman. Alex arched his back upward willing himself away from the frenzy. He hit an updraft. Higher and higher, he shot upwards, until the battleground below was less than a speck. He turned down towards the ground now, but he was too high. Faster and faster he hurtled towards the earth, then pulled out of his descent and found himself higher than before. Too high! Again he tried to soar downwards toward safety, but currents kept lifting him higher and higher. Thrill turned to fear. He was high enough now that he could see oceans with their coastlines snaking under cloud cover. Again, he tried to soar downwards. He picked up speed, arched upward, and plummeted, tumbling head over heels in uncontrolled free fall.
Then he woke up.
It took him a few seconds to realize that this was only a dream and that it was over. Indeed sometimes he wondered what was real and what was dreaming – the nightmares or his daytime life. He reached over, but Vivian was no longer with him. And he was so tired…
He sat astride the bull that no one could ride. The chute opened and Alex spurred the animal into a bucking frenzy. Two seconds into the arena, and Alex knew that the beast was his. The beast would serve him, and he, Alex, savored his power over the animal. Elated, he jabbed his heels into the creature’s side. The bull’s hide was tough, but Alex jabbed harder, harder still, until frothy blood flowed, red-black down the creature’s side. With that, the creature reared as a horse would do, then spun, first left then right, in tighter and tighter circles. Alex hung on. But underneath, the ground gave way. A pit of hissing sidewinders replaced the sand and sawdust. Alex hung on. Now the bull was twisting and weaving from left to right, and circling fast and hard.
Alex woke up in a cold sweat, wondering at first what brought on this panic. And then he remembered. His soul was dead. He hadn’t meant to sell his soul. Was he really doomed? The devil didn’t play fair. Maybe there was a way out. “Is there a way out?” Alex shouted at the walls. He pounded his pillow like a crazy man.
Chapter XXXV pgs. 229-231
At three twenty-five a.m. Alex screamed and sat bolt upright in bed, but he didn’t wake up. Vivian debated whether to wake him up or not. He’d been having nightmares for quite some time now. A few times when she’d wakened him up, he had just shivered and refused to tell her anything. Then he’d been afraid to go back to sleep, only to waken screaming all over again. Well, no wonder with all the pressure he was under. He thrashed in his sleep, and Vivian wrapped a robe around herself and, feeling a little guilty for leaving Alex, went to sleep in one of the guest bedrooms. It seemed that neither one of them was getting much sleep lately. She wished Alex would tell her what was so wrong, but he’d fly into a rage whenever she asked.
In Alex’s dream he stood at the top of the Houston conference center like a god, watching the world crawl beneath him. The building melted, and he sat astride a breeze as he would a cushion. He stretched his arms up, then sideways and found he could glide carried on the wind. The sensation of soaring was pleasant, thrilling, and he gloried in rising on an updraft, then swooping down towards the earth below, seeing how low he could get before he arched his head up to rise again.
Higher and higher he climbed, then jackknifed into what was almost a free fall. Faster and faster, the earth rose to meet him, lush, soft, and tropical with vines and ferns. Faster still, wind rushed into his face. But suddenly below him were soldiers, and a screaming woman. Alex arched his back upward willing himself away from the frenzy. He hit an updraft. Higher and higher, he shot upwards, until the battleground below was less than a speck. He turned down towards the ground now, but he was too high. Faster and faster he hurtled towards the earth, then pulled out of his descent and found himself higher than before. Too high! Again he tried to soar downwards toward safety, but currents kept lifting him higher and higher. Thrill turned to fear. He was high enough now that he could see oceans with their coastlines snaking under cloud cover. Again, he tried to soar downwards. He picked up speed, arched upward, and plummeted, tumbling head over heels in uncontrolled free fall.
Then he woke up.
It took him a few seconds to realize that this was only a dream and that it was over. Indeed sometimes he wondered what was real and what was dreaming – the nightmares or his daytime life. He reached over, but Vivian was no longer with him. And he was so tired…
He sat astride the bull that no one could ride. The chute opened and Alex spurred the animal into a bucking frenzy. Two seconds into the arena, and Alex knew that the beast was his. The beast would serve him, and he, Alex, savored his power over the animal. Elated, he jabbed his heels into the creature’s side. The bull’s hide was tough, but Alex jabbed harder, harder still, until frothy blood flowed, red-black down the creature’s side. With that, the creature reared as a horse would do, then spun, first left then right, in tighter and tighter circles. Alex hung on. But underneath, the ground gave way. A pit of hissing sidewinders replaced the sand and sawdust. Alex hung on. Now the bull was twisting and weaving from left to right, and circling fast and hard.
Alex woke up in a cold sweat, wondering at first what brought on this panic. And then he remembered. His soul was dead. He hadn’t meant to sell his soul. Was he really doomed? The devil didn’t play fair. Maybe there was a way out. “Is there a way out?” Alex shouted at the walls. He pounded his pillow like a crazy man.
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