Dream Weaver Ch. 01

The chronological order of my stories is now listed in WifeWatchman's biography.

Feedback and constructive criticism is very much appreciated, and I encourage feedback for ideas.

This story contains graphic scenes, language and actions that might be extremely offensive to some people. These scenes, words and actions are used only for the literary purposes of this story. The author does not condone murder, racial language, violence, rape or violence against women, and any depictions of any of these in this story should not be construed as acceptance of the above.

Part 1 - Awakening

-Driver take away my worries of today,
-And leave tomorrow behind,

-Ooh Dream Weaver,
-I believe you can get me through the night,
-Ooh Dream Weaver,
-I believe we can reach the morning light...
------ Gary Wright, 'Dream Weaver'.

"That must've been one hell of a dream." my wife said. "You look like you're a million miles away."

"I feel like it, too." I said. "I haven't woken up yet."

We were at the breakfast table, eating cereal. It was early September, just past the Labor Day weekend. I was not looking forward to the week.

"So when are you going to get the severance package?" Melina asked.

I'd been working for a private lab that was contracted to do Crime Lab testing for the Midtown Police and the SBI. But the State Legislature had cut funding, trying to force all law enforcement units to use the State Crime Labs exclusively. As a result, I was being laid off, along with a number of others.

"End of the month." I said. "I had enough vacation to get paid through the month, so the forced me on furlough until September 30th. Then everyone gets kicked to the kerb and they pay the severances."

"We could sure use the money." Melina said. "I still think you should let me take that job."

"Not with Jack Burke!" I said strongly, then caught myself, trying to calm myself down. "You know I don't want you working with that son of a bitch."

"Look, Don," Melina said, "we need money. You're not in the Army Reserve anymore. You won't sell the security devices businesses to Jack, you won't let me work for him. I know you don't like him, but this is ridiculous."

"Melina," I said, trying to keep calm, "we've gone over this time and again."

"Yeah, I know." Melina said. "And you are one stubborn bastard." She got up and began clearing the dishes, taking them to the kitchen. As I watched her ass swaying in the tight robe she was wearing, I still remembered that dream I'd had, where I'd had a happy family... with children.

"So, Melina," I said as she returned to the breakfast table and poured herself some more coffee, "have you thought any more about us starting a family?"

My wife just stared at me for a second, then shook her head. "Don, we have no money, we're about to lose the house, you're about to lose your business. And you want to start a family?"

Earlier that summer, in June, we were planning to go to her property on the lake, where she and I would have unprotected sex for the first time in our marriage, and try to start a family. And then my sister Elizabeth had tried to force her sons Todd and Ned upon us. Melina had adamantly refused to let them stay with us, and we ended up canceling our vacation, as well.

Because they did not visit us, Todd and Ned stayed up in the University town... and Todd had been in a fatal car crash. The Police up there had said he'd lost control of his vehicle and that he'd been intoxicated. He had hit a Police cruiser head-on, and both of the Officers in the other car had been killed. Todd's body had had to be pried out almost piecemeal from the convertible he'd been driving.

"Look, Don," Melina said, "I know you're still upset about Todd being killed, and you want to have kids. But we have to resolve our situation first."

"I know." I said. "I'll find work, somewhere, somehow. And you can, too, just as long as it isn't for Jack."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Here I am, only 28 years old, and my life is a near disaster already, I thought to myself as I went through the papers, the invoices, the bills. My security equipment company had been doing a marginal business, but a steady enough one. And then some people who obviously were working for the CIA had tried to place a large order through me. I'd refused to take it.

Since then, my business had dropped off steadily, and considerably. Customers began dropping me, and no new ones would come in. Even when I went around on sales calls, I found the doors emphatically shut in my face. I finally got word from a vendor to the lab I worked at, that word had been put out to not do business with me anymore, but the vendor did not know who was behind it.

Even worse, I'd ordered and received equipment for some new customers... who then cancelled without warning. My inquiries to their businesses showed them to have suddenly disappeared. The'd seemed legitimate when I first took their orders, but now... 'Hey, presto!', they were gone.

And when I tried to return the equipment I'd ordered, the vendors refused to take it back, and also insisted on full payment immediately. Even had lawyers sending me letters. I could see what was going on, that someone was orchestrating all this.

I heard the door to my shop open, and I groaned inwardly. It was Jack Burke. He was dressed in a suit and tie, his full head of black hair perfectly set, looking every bit the powerful executive that he was since taking over his father's business the year before.

I suddenly remembered that dream I'd had... that my nephew Todd was related to Jack. And for the first time, I realized that Jack and Todd did look very much alike. That had to be a coincidence, but still...

"Well, Donny," said Jack, the derision in his voice palpable, "how's business?"

"I get the feeling you already know." I replied.

"Yeah, it's unfortunate." said Jack. "I just came by to make one last offer to buy it from you. Get you out of the hole you've dug for yourself."

"No way in hell." I said. "I'd rather file bankruptcy than sell to you."

"Suit yourself." said Jack. "But why are you putting up a fuss about me hiring Melina into my accounting department? It's a good job."

"You know why, Jack." I said. "And you're just trying to get into her pants again, as you always have been."

Jack grinned, a brilliant grin that definitely reminded me of Todd. "Come on, Donny, I haven't messed with her since college, and you know it. You see the women I'm dating, and fucking, these days. That hot blonde 'Cherie'... I can barely keep up with her. And her older sister, Marie... she's a firecracker in bed."

"I have no interest in your love life, Jack." I said. "Especially since it includes rape."

Jack's smile disappeared. "You better watch yourself, Donny." he said, his voice low and menacing.

"Or what?" I asked, 'fronting him. Jack was well aware that I was the only person who'd ever whipped his ass, and I'd done so in college with my Aikido skills.

"All right." Jack said, pretending resignation. "I've tried to help you. I'll tell you this: you might want to stay in that hole you've dug for yourself, but I have no intention of letting Melina be hurt. She's too fucking good for you." He turned for the door. "See you around, Donny."

As he left, I was remembering what had happened at School. After Jack had seduced Melina and taken her virginity, she'd almost broken off her engagement to me for Jack. Then he was accused by a woman named Ivy of rape, and the woman was backed up by a professor there. Jack had disappeared, Melina and I had gotten married and finished School.

Then a couple of years later, Jack was back. The woman Ivy had recanted her rape accusation, saying the professor had asked her to make the charge. The professor was then fired.

I wonder what happened to her, I thought to myself. Her name was Dr. Laura Fredricson, and I remembered her in my dream... as my wife, I suddenly recalled.

Curious, I got on my laptop computer. I had an account with the FBI through my security business, so I tried to access it. I typed in the password: 'J-A-N-U-A-R-Y'. It came back with a screen that said: 'Access Denied. Account does not exist."

I tried again, making sure I didn't mistype... then I remembered that I'd put in the FBI account from my dream; I didn't have one like that in real life. So why did I think that I did? And why did I type it in, instead of the correct one?

Moving along, I accessed records that were publicly available. Dr. Laura Fredricson was not a professor at the University, not at any University in the State nor the Conference. I tried more general google searches, and the only things that came up were papers from before I'd graduated School.

Part 2 - Unraveling

Friday, September 7th. Melina had not given my my morning blowjob; she's stopped doing that a couple of months before. I really felt like our marriage was not doing well.

"Honey," I said at the breakfast table, "we need to do something. How about we go away for the weekend. To your place on the lake, or up to Lake Amengi-Nunagen. Even a hunting trip. But let's spend some time together." In the past, this had worked well to rejuvenate our romantic fires.

"I'm sorry, Don, I can't." said Melina, with no show of emotion. "There's something I need to tell you, as well." I put down my spoon of cereal in the bowl and gave her my attention.

"Don," Melina said, "I told Jack I'm taking that job he offered me." I groaned, and felt my eyes closing. I opened them to see my beautiful wife looking at me skeptically.

"It's not up for discussion, Don." Melina said. "We can fight about it if you want, but I'm going to do it. I've got to generate some income."

"I know." I said, not catching her words properly, that 'she', not 'we', had to generate income. "Me, too. If I get a new job, will you drop the job with Jack?" I tried not to peer at her, but she could tell I was studying her for her response.

"We'll see." Melina said. As she cleared the table, I got the laptop and began searching job sites.

"Oh wait, here's something." I said out loud. "Town & County Police Department is hiring Officers as well as Crime Lab technicians." I quickly sent résumés for both jobs.

"Find something?" asked Melina as she came into the living room, looking hot in her blouse shirt, jeans shorts and high heel sandals.

"Mmm, you look good." I said, as I noticed her. She didn't smile at my compliment like she used to. I continued: "Police Department up in the University Town has openings, so I applied. It's a long shot, but we'll see what happens. By the way... whatever happened to that professor you were working for in college... Dr. Fredricson, her name was?"

"Oh. Her." Melina said. "What brought her to mind?"

"I dunno." I said. "Maybe that dream I had the other day. But I just thought of her name." I did not want to tell Melina about Jack Burke's visit to my store.

"Well..." said Melina, "come to think of it, I don't know. After we left School, I didn't hear from her again. And then when all that came out about Jack and the false rape allegation, I certainly wouldn't have wanted to have anything to do with Dr. Fredricson again. I have no idea what happened to her..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Monday, September 10th. A young lawyer came into my shop. I recognized him as Cy Hart, an attorney that worked with my father in Apple Grove.

"Hello, Don." he said, shaking my hand. "How are things?"

"Could be better." I said. "How about you? And Mom and Dad?"

"Your father is doing okay, but he's an obstinate man." said Hart. "Your mother thinks he's ill, but he won't go to the doctor."

"No, he hates 'em." I replied. "What about the Law Firm?"

"He's going to sell, at long last." said Hart. "That's one reason I'm down here. I'm not real happy about this man your dad is selling to. Guy named Hamilton Phillips."

The name sounded familiar to me, but I wasn't sure why. "But he is selling it?" I asked.

"Yes." said Hart. "And I'm looking for new work. Maybe with the State AG's office. I might try that University town on the way back home, too."

"Well, while you're at it," I said, "think you might help me go through bankruptcy for this business? And maybe give me a discount on your rates?"

"Sure." said Hart. "Let's look at it."

After half an hour, Hart said "Yes, it's going to be bad. Let me ask this: how are your personal finances?"

"Not great." I said. "Melina and I are barely holding on right now. She has a new job and I've got some severance and then unemployment would kick in... if I take this place into bankruptcy first."

"Well, if things get ugly, it might be better to go personal bankruptcy as well." Hart said. "You do realize that the way this business is set up, creditors can go for your personal assets?"

"Whaa?" I asked stunned. "I thought I set this up as an LLC!"

"You did." said Hart. "But you've been mixing personal funds with business funds. That's 'D.B.A.', short for 'doing business as'. Your creditors' lawyers are easily going to pinprick your bubble, and go for the personal assets."

He showed me where funds had been mixed. "I never did that." I said. Then I realized it... Melina had done it when she was paying some of our bills. She'd dipped into our personal funds, then taken the money back out. Several times over the past year.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After Hart left, two men came into the store. They were wearing suits and ties, and I instantly realized they were Federal Agents.

"Mr. Donald Troy?" asked the first man, who was stocky, with short black hair and beady eyes. The other agent was younger, face a bit chiseled but handsome, black hair in place, suit fitting perfectly.

"And you are?" I asked.

"I'm Special Agent in Charge Jack Muscone with the FBI." said Muscone, who looked strangely familiar to me, as he showed me his I.D.. "This is Special Agent Martin Nash. Can we ask you a few questions?"

"Sure, but what's it about?" I asked.

"Sir," said Special Agent Nash, his voice quiet, level, steady... unnervingly so, "did you attempt to access an FBI site from this location the other day?"

"Oh, that." I said, and realized that it would do no good to lie. "Yes. Accidentally. I thought I was accessing another account. I realized the mistake when the password failed."

"Mr. Troy," said Muscone, his beady dark eyes burning through me, "that is not the type of account one just 'accidentally' attempts to access. How did you come to know that URL in the first place?"

"I'm not sure." I said. "You won't believe this, but I had a dream a few days ago, and that URL was to an account I had. I mixed it up with my vendor account."

"Have you ever had an FBI access account like that?" asked Special Agent Nash. "Maybe when you were in the Army Reserve?"

"Not that I remember." I said. "Look guys, I know it sounds weird, but I don't know where I got that URL... like I said, it was part of a dream I had." The Agents looked very skeptical.

"Let me ask you guys a question." I said in the silence. "If I really wanted to do the FBI harm, I would've made pains to hide any attempt to hack you. I'm sure you know by now that this was a one-time access, and it's not been done by me before or since. I'm also sure you've checked me out very thoroughly, and I hope you're finding I'm no threat to you. So why this level of attention?"

"Routine." said Special Agent in Charge Muscone, barely blinking an eyelash. "But the nature of the access attempt was very strange, so we're checking it out. We'll be in touch, Mr. Troy. You might want to stay in town, so we can find you if we need to." With that, Muscone led his fellow agent out the door.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

When I got home, Melina wasn't there yet. I poured myself a Scotch and sat down in the greatroom, drinking it as I tried to think and understand what was going on. I thought of that dream I'd had; it had been so real, and now I was being visited by the FBI because of it.

Then I thought of something else in the dream. I went upstairs to the bedroom. I opened the dresser to find Melina's jewelry box, where she kept some items. In the dream, she'd had this rune from a self-help group secreted in it. I began seeking the hidden compartment... and I found it!

Wow, the dream was right, I thought to myself as I opened the secret drawer. There was no rune nor necklace in it, though... but something presented itself when I opened the drawer the whole way.

It was a badge. A CIA badge.

I was in shock, reeling. How did Melina have this badge? Was she really part of the CIA? Was she really a sniper, as she had been in my dream?

Hearing her car drive up, I quickly closed the compartment and put the jewelry box back in the drawer, and headed downstairs.

"Hi, honey." I said, enjoying the sight of my wife. She had on blue jacket and skirt, with dark blue stockings and dark blue high heel pumps. Her ass looked magnificent and I felt a stirring in my loins... but my cock did not harden.

"Hi, Don." Melina said. "I went out with some of my new coworkers for a beer and I had some food. So cook for yourself or you can order a pizza."

This was strange, as Melina never had been a very social person. I guessed she was just getting to know her new coworkers. "I'll do something." I said. "How is your new job?"

"It's okay." Melina said. "I'll tell you about it in a bit. I'm going upstairs to change."

"When you come down, we need to talk." I said. "You want a drink?" But she did not answer; she was already up the stairs, and a moment later I heard the shower running.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"So that's it." I said, after telling Melina of the mixing of funds that destroyed the protection of my LLC. "A really good lawyer might keep the LLC entity separate from our personal assets, but that will cost a lot of money. Money that we simply do not have."

"I didn't think about it when I did that." said Melina. "I was trying to cover monthly expenses and didn't want to take out a ridiculous payday loan."

"I understand." I said, trying not to be angry about it. The damage was done. I drank the last of the Scotch in my glass. "I'm going to pour another drink. You want one?"

"That was your third already." Melina said.

"It's that kind of day." I replied. After pouring my drink, I sat down with the laptop. There was a new email inside.

"Hey, look." I said, as I read the email. "The Town & County Police responded to my application. They want me to come up Wednesday..."

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tuesday, September 11th. It was early evening. I had not driven up the Midtown-University Highway for some months, and not often at all, but it felt very familiar to me. I saw the exit for the StatePowerCorp nuclear plant, then through Hamilton County to Coltrane County. I drove the speed limit through Coltrane County; their Sheriff was well known as a dirty cop, and loved to implement speed traps against unwary Citizens.

I saw the Lake Ocheekobee Golf and Country Club and the town of Buford, then the warning sign to not stop for the next five miles. And then the State Hospital for Mental Diseases, a.k.a. 'The Asylum', came into view. I felt an overwhelming sense of depression and foreboding come over me as I saw the forbidding stone walls of the building behind the layers of fencing, topped off with triple -concertina barbed wire. I wondered if the atrocities I'd dreamed about there were really occurring.

As I went on north, I saw the turnoff to the left that went to the The Vision World Headquarters. The road was in bad condition, though, almost a gravel road with plants growing up in it. I'd never actually gone down that road, and I was enormously curious to take it. But I had things to do, so I resolved to look into it on the way back home.