Grace hesitated.
Hot coffee began to drizzle into the Pyrex pot, and the aroma of it swiftly filled the room.
Sensing tension in Grace’s hesitation, Paul said, “What’s wrong?”
“Well…” She cleared her throat nervously. “Paul, how is she? She’s not ill or anything?”
“Carol? Oh, no. Of course not.”
“You’re sure? I mean, you know that girl’s like a daughter to me. if anything was wrong, I’d want to know.”
“She’s fine. Really. In fact she had a physical exam last week. The adoption agency required it. Both of us passed with flying colors.”
Grace was silent again.
Frowning, Paul said, “Why are you worried all of a sudden?”
“Well… you’ll think old Gracie is losing her marbles, but I’ve had two disturbing dreams, one during a nap yesterday, the other last night, and Carol was in both. I seldom dream, so when I have two nightmares and wake up both times feeling I’ve got to warn Carol…”
“Warn her about what?”
“I don’t know. All I remember about the dreams is that Carol was in them. I woke up thinking: it’s coming. I’ve got to warn Carol that it’s coming. I know that sounds silly. And don’t ask me what ‘it’ might be. I can’t remember. But I feel Carol’s in danger. Now Lord knows, I don’t believe in dream prophecies and garbage like that. I think I don’t believe in them—yet here I am calling you about this.”
The coffee was ready. Paul leaned over, turned off the brewer. “The strange thing is—Carol and I were nearly hurt in a freak accident yesterday.” He told her about the damage at O’Brian’s office.
“Good God,” she said, “I saw that lightning when I woke up from my nap, but it never occurred to me that you and Carol… that the lightning might be the very thing I was… the very thing my dream oh, hell! I’m afraid to say it because I might sound like a superstitious old fool, but here goes anyway: Was there actually something prophetic about that dream? Did I foresee the lightning strike a few minutes before it happened?”
“If nothing else,” Paul said uneasily, “it’s at least a remarkable coincidence.”
They were silent for a moment, wondering, and then she said, “Listen, Paul, I don’t recall that we’ve ever discussed this subject much before, but tell me—do you believe in dream prophecies, clairvoyance, things of that nature?”
“I don’t believe, and I don’t disbelieve. I’ve never really made up my mind.”
“I’ve always been so smug about it. Always considered it a pack of lies, delusions, or just plain nonsense. But after this—”
“You’re reconsidering.”
“Let’s just say a tiny doubt has cropped up. And now I’m more worried about Carol than I was when I called you.”
“Why? I told you she wasn’t even scratched.”
“She escaped once,” Grace said, “but I had two dreams, and one of them came to me hours after the lightning. So maybe the ‘it’ is something else. I mean, if the first dream had some truth in it, then maybe the second does, too. God, isn’t this crazy? If you start believing in just a little bit of this nonsense, you get carried away with it real fast. But I can’t help it. I’m still concerned about her.”
“Even if your first dream was prophetic,” Paul said, “the second one was probably just a repeat of it, an echo, not a whole new dream.”
“You think so?”
“Sure. This never happened to you before, so why should it happen again? Most likely, it was just a freak thing… like the lightning yesterday.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re probably right,” she said, sounding somewhat relieved. “Maybe it could happen once. Maybe I can accept that. But I’m not Edgar Cayce or Nostradamus. And I can guarantee you I’m never going to be writing a weekly column of predictions for the National Enquirer.”
Paul laughed.
“Still,” she said, “I wish I could remember exactly what happened in both those nightmares.”
They talked a while longer, and when Paul finally hung up, he stared at the receiver for a moment, frowning. Although he was pretty much convinced that the timing of Grace’s dream had been merely a strange coincidence, he was nonetheless affected by it, more profoundly affected than seemed reasonable.