G.A. was using a hose near the animal stalls to clean off his face. Either the “partner” had done his homework or he had just got lucky. G.A. has said before that he would stand in the sun and watch his skin bake and burn to dust before he’d wear sunscreen. Especially on his face. It was just a “thing” he had about it. No sticky stuff on the face. G.A. was remembering as he was washing….

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“…but.. what..?” This was all too much. I was sure, now, that G.A. didn’t know me. There was no recognition seeping through the pain in his eyes. The blood vessels were beginning to pop in his eyes, making them bloodshot and pink. This was wrong. This was entirely wrong. Some detail… something… was way, way wrong.

I couldn’t help but look over my shoulder, back to the ground, where I’d dropped the tiny gun off of the At-At model. My roommate. My anal-retentive, Star Wars-loving, clean-freak roommate, and friend of six years. My room. The model of the Carnival. It was at the edge of my mind, like I’d woken up from a dream. That little piece of twenty-year-old toy shouldn’t be there. I looked back at Dr. Celestine, and bared my teeth at him. He smirked, and I’m not sure if he thought I was smiling or recognized the feral challenge I’d offered.

The anger and panic melded, just like they always do when I get into situations like this. Options were clear, decisions were made. I remembered the lattice-work I’d noticed between these people before. The two layers, with the intertwining connections. Too complicated. Patterns in nature were simple. No matter how complex they looked, when you zoomed in, they were simple patterns. When this lattice-work of relations was zoomed in upon, it was tangled, knotted, and messy. It was corrupted. It wasn’t supposed to be. Dreams. God damn dreams.

I calmly stood up and walked to the pile of clothes that the good Doctor had just discarded and I picked up G.A.’s pants. I calmly took out each item in his pants’ pockets, and went through the wallet. I put everything back in its place carefully. The anger and panic were leading, now. I was calm, directed, emotionless. That’s what happens. I picked up his flannel-turned-vest. Breast pocket. There it was. I took out what I found, and strode over to G.A. I wouldn’t notice until I was done that the good Doctor had wandered off again. Just like that bastard. I knelt down next to G.A, and showed him what was in my hand.

“You are a Dreamer, G.A. You cannot be the Dream. It is not right.” I made sure he was focusing on the ticket, as I took the end of the thing in both hands. “You will meet me later, but I won’t know you yet. In Ohio. Be sure to do your best at knowing more than you should, but only letting it out a little. You’ll attract my curiosity that way. Say hi to your beautiful child for me, as well.” I showed him his Golden Ticket. None of the attractions were marked off. It was fresh, and clean. I slowly tore it in half, lengthwise, right in front of his eyes. I could see his panic as he felt it tear. I put the remaining halves in my pocket to throw away later.

Nothing to do but wait for that Scottish bastard to come back. That cane called to me. I picked up the piece of the At-At and fiddled with it nervously. Something was nagging at my mind that I hadn’t noticed…