Falling Awake

bearded man demanded.
    Isabel turned to him. “I am talking about what is going on with you in your own life. Are you facing a major career decision? If so, maybe that door does represent a fear of change or having to make a choice. But deal with the decision-making process while you are awake. Don’t look to your dreams for solutions. A decision that appears rational and right in a dream is actually quite arbitrary and may be entirely wrong for the waking world. Dreaming and waking thought are two different states of mind, literally.”
    “I thought this class was supposed to be about tapping into our dreams to get creative answers,” someone whined from the fifth row.

    Another phone warbled. A man in the tenth row dove into his pocket to respond.
    In the back, Tamsyn put her face in her hands.
    Let me out of this nightmare, Isabel thought. But she knew there was no escape. She couldn’t even tell herself that she would eventually wake up and discover it was all just a dream. She was trapped.
    e llis slipped the twenty-dollar bill across the counter. The plump, good-natured café owner made it disappear into the pocket of her apron. She had told him that he could call her Daisy.
    “All I know is that the doc was real regular in his habits.” Daisy leaned forward a little, providing a view of her generous cleavage. “He ate his dinner here, same as usual on that night. Had the special. On Thursday nights he always ordered the special. Turkey, mashed potatoes and gravy. It was his favorite.”
    “He didn’t look ill?”
    “Looked fine to me.” Daisy shrugged well-upholstered shoulders. “But that’s the way it is with a heart attack, ain’t it? One minute you’re fine. The next, you’re a goner.”
    “Not always,” Ellis said softly. “In a lot of cases there are prior symptoms. Nausea. Shortness of breath. Chest pain.”
    “If he was having any of those things, he didn’t let on. Ate every bite. Doc had a good appetite. One of my best customers.”

    “Do you know where he went after he left here that evening?” Ellis asked, dutifully making a note on a pad of paper.
    “Sure. Said he was headed straight back to his office at the center. That’s where they found him, wasn’t it? Dead at his desk?”
    “Yes,” Ellis said.
    “Doc hardly ever went home. Had a real problem with insomnia, you know.” Daisy tut-tutted. “Told me once he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in forty years, poor man.”
    “I see.” Ellis finished the bad coffee and got to his feet. He should have brought along some bags of green tea, he thought. Evidently he had become addicted to the stuff at some point during the past few months. “Thanks for the information.”
    Daisy squinted a little. “Mind if I ask why you wanted to know what Doc had to eat that night?”
    “I’m retracing his movements on the day of his death.”
    “Yeah? How come?”
    “Insurance investigation,” Ellis said. “My boss wants me to be sure it wasn’t suicide. Company doesn’t pay out on suicides.”
    “Damned insurance companies. Always looking for a way to get out of paying.” Daisy snorted. “I’ll tell you one thing. Doc wouldn’t have taken his own life. Leastways, not that night.”
    Ellis tried not to look too interested. “What makes you so sure?”
    “He was real excited about something he was working on at the time.”
    “Did he talk about the project?”

    “Not to me, he didn’t. But he had a couple of meetings here with a tall guy who looked like he’d gone through a windshield sometime in the past few months. Had some bad scars on his face, right about here, you know?” She tapped her forehead and jaw. “Wore his hair sort of long and he looked like he was trying to grow a beard to hide the scars.”
    Ellis kept his expression polite and as casual as possible. “Any idea what they discussed at the meetings?”
    “Nope. Sat over there in the corner booth and talked real quiet like. But I could tell they were both real intense and Doc was excited. If he was gonna commit suicide, you’d think he would have waited until after he finished his special project.”
    Ellis pocketed his notebook. “Sounds like a logical assumption.”
    a fter what seemed like an eternity, the class finally ended. Tamsyn made her way forward while the students surged toward the exits.
    Isabel slumped against the podium. “You don’t have to tell me, I know I was terrible.”
    “Not terrible,” Tamsyn said, speaking very