"What makes you think Bobby will talk?" She had given up all hope of that about two years before. They had done everything they could for him, and nothing had improved or changed. Nor would it now, she felt sure.

"He just will. You'll see."

"Do you have that from a higher source, or are you just trying to cheer me up?" she asked, smiling at him. It felt so good to see Johnny again, even if only in a dream.

"Both. Actually, I just know it in my heart. I can always hear him in my head. I always did."

"I know," she said sadly, thinking of her younger son, and the trauma he had had, "and no one else does."

"I think you could hear him too, if you tried," Johnny said, and she considered it for a while. It was an intriguing thought. She had never tried. She just filled in the blanks for him, but it had never occurred to her to listen to Bobby in her head, as Johnny had done.

"I'll try it when I go home," she promised, wondering if that was why she had seen Johnny in the dream, if that had been his message for her. Or maybe it was what they had given her in the hospital. Maybe the medications were making her imagine things. And she had a sense, as they were talking, that it was nearly morning by then. She dreaded waking up and losing him again. She hated mornings now. She would wake up with a lead ball on her chest, remembering that something terrible had happened to them, and within seconds, as she opened her eyes, she knew just what it was. Johnny was gone.

"I don't want to lose you again," she said sadly, as his pace slowed down again. "Can't I just stay here with you?" All she wanted was to be with him.

"Of course not, Mom, you're not dead. And you're not going to be for a long time. You've still got too much work to do here." He sounded firm.

"I miss you so much." She could barely say the words, they hurt so much.

"I miss you too, Mom," he said quietly. "A lot. I miss Becky too ... and Bobby ... and Charlie ... and Dad. It's hard to get used to not being with you. But I'm going to be around for a while."

"You are?" She was surprised, and he smiled.

"I have an a.s.signment to do," he said mysteriously.

"You do?" She looked confused. "Like what?"

"I don't know. They don't tell you that part. You have to figure it out. They don't give you details. I think it just kind of ... unfolds."

"What do you mean?" She was puzzled by what he'd said.

"I'm not sure myself, Mom. I think I just do what I feel like I'm supposed to do ... and when everything gets done, I can go." It seemed pretty simple, as long as he could figure out what he was supposed to do in the correct amount of time.

"I don't understand. And what happens now when I wake up? Will I have this dream again when I go back to sleep?" It made her want to sleep forever, just so she could see him.

He laughed at the question she asked, and it was the laugh she remembered so well, and the smile she had missed so much. It felt so good to see him again, and made her feel more than ever that she didn't want to wake up.

"I think you'll be seeing me a lot." He didn't mention the dream.

"When?" She wanted answers from him, and promises that she'd see him again in her dreams. The past two nights had been like a gift from him. It was exactly like being with him.

"Now," he said comfortably. He seemed completely at ease with her.

"What do you mean now?" now?"

"I mean now, when you wake up."

"I'll see you when I wake up?" Even she knew better than that.

He nodded again, and she stared at him, confused.

"How about explaining that?"

"Okay Wake up."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now. Open your eyes."

"I don't want to open my eyes. If I wake up now, you'll be gone, and everything will be awful again. I refuse to wake up." She sounded more like a child than her son, and wanted to squeeze her eyes shut as tightly as she could.

"Wake up, Mom. Open your eyes." She tried to resist at first, and then found that she could not. It was as though he were compelling her to do as he said. Her eyes fluttered open, and she couldn't see clearly at first in the darkened room, but when her eyes adjusted, she could see Johnny sitting at the end of her bed, looking just exactly as he had in her dream.

"Wow, this is some terrific dream," she said, looking at him with a grin. "It must be the drugs." She was amused. Maybe it was a hallucination, not a dream.

"No, it's not the drugs, Mom," he said confidently, getting the hang of it himself. "It's me."

"What do you mean, it's you?" She was suddenly staring right at him, and her eyes were open. It didn't make any sense to her. It no longer felt like a dream. And she was totally confused. She could see Johnny talking to her, and she had the impression she was wide awake, which was completely weird.

"Just what I said, Mom, it's me. This is pretty cool, Mom, isn't it?" He looked thrilled, and there was a look of panic in her eyes. She was suddenly wondering if she was delusional. Maybe her grief for him had finally pushed her over the edge. "I'm coming back for a while, Mom. But only to you," he said, trying to explain it to her while her eyes grew wider still. "I think this is kind of a special deal. Someone told me it happens to people who leave very suddenly, and need to tie up loose ends. All I know is that you're supposed to fix things for people. But no one told me what to fix, or exactly for who. I think you have to figure it out for yourself."

"John Peterson," his mother said, trying to look stern, as she sat in her hospital bed and stared at him, "have you been doing drugs up there?" She looked utterly confused. She had inadvertently become part of a phenomenon that defied everything she believed or knew. It was like an out-of-body experience that included Johnny, and he looked happy, and at ease, and real. "I don't understand what's going on," she said, looking a little wan. "I still think it must be the drugs I'm taking," she said to herself, as a nurse walked into the room, and Johnny disappeared. It was as though he had never been there at all, but this time, she didn't feel sad. He had seemed far too real, and for once, she didn't feel the weight of a crushing loss. She felt oddly cheered.

"And how are you today?" the nurse asked happily, and was pleased once again with Alice's vital signs. She only stayed for a few minutes, and then left the room again. Alice closed her eyes, thinking of her son, and when she opened them, Johnny was standing next to her bed, grinning at her.

"This can't be happening," she said, smiling up at him. "But I'm loving every minute of it. Where did you go?"

"I can't hang around when there are other people in the room. Those are the rules. I told you, Mom, I'm only here for you."

"I wish you were," she said with a yawn, but never taking her eyes off him. This was getting harder and harder to understand, and better and better to feel. It was so great seeing him, or thinking that she did.

"I am here for you, Mom. Trust me. I told you, this is very cool."

"What are you saying to me?" She felt suddenly nervous now, as though something important were happening to her, far, far beyond her control, or even his. And it was.

"I know this will sound weird to you. It did to me too at first. They're sending me back for a while, to do some special work. Because when I went, I left so fast, I didn't have time to finish things. So they're letting me do it now. Not for me, but for everyone else. I think ... you ... Bobby ... Charlie ... Dad ... Becky too, probably ... maybe her mom ... I've got a lot of stuff to do, but they haven't explained it to me yet."

"Are you telling me you're coming back?" She sat bolt upright in bed and stared at him. And this time she knew she wasn't asleep.

"Just for a while," he said, looking pleased.

"Are you telling me I'm really seeing you, and this isn't some crazy drug they gave me in my IV that's making me hallucinate?"

"No, it's bigger than that, Mom. A lot bigger." He grinned again. "It's pretty good stuff. I know I'm going to like it. I've missed you all so much."

"So have I," she said as tears filled her eyes, and instinctively she reached out for his hand, and he took hers in his own. It felt just as it always had, and he looked no different than before. He was still the same beautiful boy he had always been, her beloved older son. "You mean I get to see you all the time again?" she asked with a look of disbelief and a lump in her throat.

"Pretty much. Except when I'm busy doing something else. I told you, I'm going to have a lot to do. It sounds like a big job."

"Can anyone else see you?"

"No, just you. I was kind of hoping Becky could see me too, but they don't think that's a good idea. This is kind of like a big favor to you, Mom. I think you should say thank you or something, when you get the chance." She just nodded, looking at him, unable to believe what he had just said.

"I will," she whispered to him. "I will...." And then suddenly she had doubts again. "Are you sure I didn't just go nuts in here... or they're giving me psychedelics that'll wear off when I get home?"

"I'm sure, Mom. Why don't you rest for a while? I've got some things to do. I'll see you when you get home."

He leaned over and kissed her then, and she felt his warmth next to her. And as soon as he had kissed her, he smiled at her, and then as though she had blinked and lost him again, he was gone. But it didn't feel the same this time. She knew she hadn't lost him, and she still wasn't sure what had happened, but whatever it was, her heart was lighter than it had been in four months, or ever before.

She lay in bed, thinking about him, feeling the warmth he had left with her, and she remembered what he had just said, and as she closed her eyes, seeing her son in her mind's eye, and remembering his kiss, his touch, she silently whispered, "Thanks."

They brought her breakfast in after that, and she ate decently for once. A lot more than she had in months. Oatmeal and toast and coffee and a soft-boiled egg, and all she wanted to do was smile and laugh every time she thought about him. She wasn't sad anymore, or devastated, or crushed, or depressed. She was happier than she'd been in years. The doctor thought her recovery miraculous. He still wanted her to take the medication he'd given her, until her ulcer healed, but after he had checked her over carefully, he said she could go home. And she smiled as soon as he said the words, because she knew who would be waiting for her there. And if it was all a dream, and that was all it turned out to be, she knew with absolute certainty that it was the best one she had ever had.

Chapter 4.

Jim came to pick Alice up from the hospital that afternoon on his lunch hour, and took her home. She was in good spirits, and a little stronger than she'd been. And she had promised her doctor she would rest. One of her neighbors came to visit her after she got home, and Pam came by with Becky that night, to see how she was. She was on a special diet, and Charlotte had cooked dinner for all of them. from the hospital that afternoon on his lunch hour, and took her home. She was in good spirits, and a little stronger than she'd been. And she had promised her doctor she would rest. One of her neighbors came to visit her after she got home, and Pam came by with Becky that night, to see how she was. She was on a special diet, and Charlotte had cooked dinner for all of them.

Alice put on her bathrobe and went downstairs. Jim even ate dinner with them that night, and sat with them for a little while, before disappearing into the living room to watch TV with a six-pack of beer. Alice helped Charlotte do the dishes and clean up, and Bobby sat silently at the kitchen table, watching them. He hadn't taken his eyes off his mother since she got home. He had been terrified when he realized that she was gone, and sure that she would never come back again. And when she went back upstairs to her room, he followed her, and sat down on the end of her bed.

"It's okay, sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. I'm fine. Honest." She could see in Bobby's big blue eyes that he was still scared. The memory of Johnny leaving them so suddenly was still fresh for all of them, Bobby particularly, and after a while, he came to sit next to her on the bed and held her hand.

It was only after she had put him to bed that she heard a sound in her room, and thought that Charlotte had wandered in to borrow something to wear, as she often did. She was taller than Alice, and narrower, but she still managed to borrow her fair share of sweaters and accessories to wear with her favorite pair of jeans.

"Charlie?" Alice said in the direction of her closet, as she got back into bed, and then jumped when she saw Johnny smiling at her. He was wearing the same blue shirt and clean pair of jeans he'd been wearing when she saw him in the hospital, and his hair was as neat and freshly trimmed as it had been the night of the prom.

"Hi, Mom," he said, and bent over her to kiss her on the cheek, and then sat down on the end of her bed, as he often had when he wanted to talk to her.

"It's going to take me a while to get used to this," she admitted to him. "It's something of a miracle, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is." He nodded, still smiling at her.

"What did you do today?" she asked, casually, sinking back against her pillows, and savoring the sight of him. He looked so good, so young and strong, so confident, even more than he had before. He used to get a little worried frown sometimes, and now he just looked happy all the time. And then she realized how odd it sounded to ask him what he'd done. It was as though he had never left, and she expected him to tell her about work, or school.

"I went to see Becky today. She looked so sad." His eyes grew more serious as he said the words. He had followed her for hours, and watched her with the kids and talking to her mom.

"She and her mom came by for a while."

"I know, Mom. I was here."

"You were?"

He nodded then, and seemed to be thinking about something else. "Bobby is really scared about you," he explained to her, but she already knew. Bobby didn't need words to tell her how he felt, and the way he had stayed with her all day had told her everything she needed to know. Bobby was terrified she'd die too.

"I think he was afraid I wouldn't come back from the hospital. Like you," she said diplomatically.

"I know, Mom," Johnny said quietly. "And Charlie is upset about Dad." Alice nodded, there was nothing she could say to that. She was worried about him too. His drinking had gotten markedly worse ever since Johnny had died. All she could do was hope that he'd lighten up on his drinking again. But in recent weeks it had only gotten worse. He never got so drunk he couldn't go to work the next day. And he never drank until he got home. But once he began, he drank steadily all night, and by the time he came to bed, he was blind and numb. It was no way to live. And it affected all of them, as she knew. But he wouldn't let her talk to him, and she couldn't see anymore how it could change. She never told anyone, and she had gotten good at explaining it away, and making excuses for him, particularly to the kids. But it was no secret to anyone in the house what was happening to him, or why. First, he had nearly drowned his younger son, in an accident that left him mute, and then he had lost his favorite son. It was more than he could tolerate, or bear to think about. And when he drank, he didn't have to feel, or think anything at all. It was the perfect escape for him.

"What's going to happen now?" Alice looked at her son curiously. She had been wondering about it all day, still unsure if what she had seen of him was real or a dream. It was pretty remarkable, and would have been impossible to explain to anyone. And she would never have tried. "How does this work? Are you going to be around all the time, or just kind of come and go?" The oddest thing was that they were speaking normally and she wondered if anyone would hear them if they wandered by. They were going to have to be careful about that, or people were going to think she was crazy, talking to herself, since they couldn't see him.

"I guess I just kind of come in and out, while I do my work. I want to spend some time with Becky too." There was something sad in his eyes this time as he spoke to her. It had touched him when he saw how subdued Becky was that day. It brought home to him how many people had been affected when he left, but it was why he had come home again. There were too many loose ends, too much left undone. And he knew he had a lot to do now in a short time.

He got up off her bed then, and walked to the door of her room, and then stood there smiling at her.

"It feels good to be home, Mom." Even if it was only for a little while. It felt good to both of them.

"It's wonderful to have you home, sweetheart. I've missed you so much." Her words didn't begin to express all she felt.

"Yeah," he said softly, "me too. I'm going to go downstairs now to see Dad."

"Can he see you too?" She looked surprised by what he said. She didn't think Jim could see him too. And Johnny laughed at her.

"Of course not, Mom. Are you kidding? He'd freak out."

"Yes, I think he would," she laughed with him.

"I just want to make sure he's okay. And there's some stuff I want to look for in my room. What happened to my varsity jacket? You didn't give it away, did you?"

"Of course not. I let Bobby try it on. I was saving it for him. I told him he could have it one day, and his eyes lit up. He's got a lot of growing to do until then." They exchanged a smile.

"Charlie might like to wear it in the meantime," he said generously. He had worn it constantly, he'd been so proud of it.

"I don't think Dad thinks anyone should wear it but you. It's in your closet. Everything is still there." She hadn't moved or changed or given away anything. With all his trophies and pennants and photographs and awards, the room was a shrine to him. She seldom went in anymore, although she had in the first few weeks, she just liked knowing it was there, like a part of him.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning, Mom." It was just the way it had been only a few months before, when he used to come and say good night to her, leave to call Becky, and then go to his room.

"Good night, sweetheart." She sat there quietly, thinking of him, and a few minutes later Charlotte strolled in. Her hair was wet, she had just put gel in it, and she looked at her mother with a quizzical air.

"Who were you talking to a minute ago? Was Dad up here?" They both knew Bobby was sound asleep. She had heard her mom saying something as she walked down the hall to her room, and she couldn't imagine who she was talking to.

"I was on the phone," Alice said without batting an eye. "Dad's still downstairs. He probably fell asleep."

"What else is new?" Charlie said with a disapproving air. "Peggy Dougal's dad used to be the same way ... and he went to AA."

"Peggy Dougal's dad wound up in jail for drunk driving," Alice said defensively, "and he lost his job. He had to go to AA, the court sent him there. That's not the same thing." She had suggested it to Jim several times since the accident years before, and he always brushed her off or barked at her. He saw no need to go to AA, and always said he just liked to enjoy a few beers. And Alice knew she couldn't push him into it unless he was ready to go. It was up to him. And nothing she could say to him would make him see what everyone else did.

"Maybe not the same as Peggy's dad, but have you ever tried talking to Dad at night, Mom? He can't even understand what you say." And more often than not, he slurred his words.

"I know, baby." Alice didn't know what to say to her. It was the first time Charlotte had implied that her father was a drunk. And Alice didn't have the heart to tell her she was wrong. She had always been honest with her, even now. And whether or not he needed AA, he needed to forgive himself for the accident first, and accept the fact that he had lost his son. But that didn't seem to be happening. He seemed to be drifting further and further away from all of them. The only child he had ever related to was gone, and the other two didn't seem to exist for him. Sometimes Alice wondered if he even knew they were there. He never talked to them, or acknowledged them. And yet, he had loved talking to Johnny for hours, about sports and games and scores. He had no one to talk to now, not even her. "It's late, sweetheart, you should get to bed. I'll go wake Dad in a while and bring him upstairs."

"Doesn't it make you mad, Mom?" she asked with a sorrowful air, as her mother shook her head.

"No. Just sad sometimes." Charlotte nodded, and walked slowly out of the room, and then stopped just as Johnny had, with her hand on the door.