1 | The Terrible Dreamer

Chapter 17

WISH

An hour later, we're standing in Dad's Greenhouse outback. The flowers and plants are still alive, growing, like he never died ten years ago. I come in here sometimes to clean out the weeds creeping in from outside. They're so hardy, drawn to all this life, that I always miss a few. So, while we're waiting, I pull out a few, adding them to the waste bucket to dump later.

It's always hard, being near things that remind me of him. Memories of my childhood always come flooding back, even the negative ones where I'm yelling at him and throwing a childish tantrum. I know I can't take back those moments. I know no one is perfect. But I can't help but regret those fights. I wish they never happened, and instead, were more happy memories. More smiles and laughter.

But you can never change the past, and it's pointless to dwell on it.

"He's here." Aiya heads that way. Tires crunch on the gravel outside, coming to a stop near my house. Car doors open and shut. Before we know it, Gregori Concerto is appearing in the doorway, carrying a heavy metal box, based on the way his fingers grip it. Tight.

"Did you guys know your neighbors have buffalo?" Gregori says.

Aiya waves him off. "Yeah. They're always getting into our woods. We're always having to fix the fence on our side every year—" she stops short to reintroduce us. "You remember my best friend Wish and my cousin Ken? This is Gregori Concerto."

Ken gives him a guy nod that I'll never understand, while I shake his hand. "From the Gathering," I say. "Sorry, we couldn't talk more back then."

"It's alright. The situation was kind of... tricky at the moment," Gregori says, struggling further with the box.

Ken looks at his watch. "We should get started. The sun won't wait for us."

Aiya pats Gregori on the shoulder. "Ignore him. He's always been an ass. So, will this table do? It may look a little old, but the wood is so stable I could sleep on top of it."

Gregori looks it over, the length stretching in the middle from end to end of the Greenhouse. There are piles of used pots and tins stacked underneath, dirt caking the floorboards, and weeds peeking out from cracks and crevasses that I missed. He then looks at the glass dome, the years of aging and green film covering it. No one can see us from outside. Unfortunately, it's after three, so the temperatures are dropping by the hour.

"In here? Are you sure there isn't another place we can work?" Gregori asks, but everyone just stares at him. "Right. I can make this work. Just give me a minute."

Gregori heaves the heavy box onto the table, the wood creaking beneath its weight, but holds steady like Aiya said. He unlatches the box and it slowly falls open, like those kitchen drawers, easing to a stop until all his instruments and glass cylinders are ready for him to use. He pulls out a clear bag and pops it open into a small tent to cover the surface of the box. Gloves attached on the inside, so he can work without exposing the area.

"I'll need to disinfect the air in this containment area before I can begin. We need to make sure no other organisms are going to alter the testing," Gregori says. "Do you have the specimen with you?"

I hesitate for a second, but reach behind me on the shelf and pull out the jar. The paper butterfly flaps frantically against my palm, pushing and crawling, until I set it down on the table. It suddenly stops, so still, you'd think it was dead.

Gregori's eyes grow so large. He gently picks up the jar and peers close. "What is this?"

"A butterfly," I say. "Not from this world." Ken says my name, but I don't stop. "He needs to know, if we're really trying to get some answers here."