In Your Dreams: Tales of Good and Evil

By Laura Jean Lysander

 Illustrated updated version; Ever since she could remember, young, spirited Ivy Swan had been dreaming of the Forest and her special dream best friend Shraden whom she vehemently proclaimed was Real, not imaginary. Her "fanciful fake" dream stories entertained and annoyed most her family, especially her older sister until that one fated night- with that "very un-fake" frog actually appeared in her bed… and it all changed, without one single dream at all for years. It tormented her so much that she began to elaborately, obsessively draw scenes of him within his forest that sent her off to a doctor, forcing her to stop her lovely yet compulsive artwork, … until one bold, unexpected daydream in her Senior year math class that changed everything all over again, for indeed Shraden was real, and now grown and studied sacred Knighthood all these missing years in his Magic Realm to either forget, which he could never do, or dedicate all his hours to find a way to stay with her. For he had never stopped secretly loving his special dream world best friend, so much that he passionately gives her something very important to him and all from his magical Realm that again comes back along with her… and is stolen from Ivy, and now, many more people believe Shraden to be real… too many and the wrong ones. Can Shraden, stuck in his magical Realm, his world, help his dear friend Ivy and their love before it is all too late for everyone? Read on, and enjoy the fairy tale…

 

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lysander's Literaries
• Release date: Mar 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386694748

Book preview

IN  YOUR  

DREAMS

By Laura jean Lysander

For all  whom

Always had one genuine dream

And have always believed it to be true.

All that we see or seem

Is but a dream within a dream...

Edgar Allen Poe

Special dedication to

My mother, Barbara Ann Mahon,

the artist,

Who in her own free time

painted and drew

The illustrated edition of this project,

and my son, Squire Lysander,

who helped with digital 

photoshop editing 

of the covers~

I love you!

PROLOGUE~

Once Upon a Time, in the vicinity of Morris Park and Van Nest Avenue in the Bronx, New York City, not too long ago...           

Ayoung, spirited fiery little angsty sprite of a girl named Ivy Swan was born. There was no real specialty of character about her, or anything deemed very extraordinary, even a bit too tiny. She was just like any other, inquisitive, persistent, a bit of a tomboy but aware of her girlishness, wearing her flame-toned, bright reddish gold hair in high pigtails almost all the time. If anything, the most salient feature about her would be that unruly, blazing-hued, long, curling, shiny hair and gemstone emerald green eyes, so very bright. Most of the time her hair was so disheveled no one bothered to notice how pretty it or she really was, or her eyes, or much else, for she wasn’t like explained a girly-girl type, very sporty and active, didn’t try to draw any attention to herself at all, but yes, a young girl and distinctly still feminine, just not adolescent yet.

She was, though, the apple of her father’s eye, and the bane of her older sisters’ existence. Such a fanciful imagination, her mother would quip, about her imaginary best friend and his dream world, their dream world, telling tall tale stories to her father at the breakfast table every single morning about their adventures in the forest. Her father hung upon every word, fascinated, to her mother and sister’s chagrin. He just couldn’t get enough of it to their dismay... Ivy even got out of putting milk in her cereal because her father said so, just munching on it dry.

And so, here is her tall tale of a story ... but you must as the bearer of this legend now, as decreed in the world of reading Romantic Fairy Tales, read till the very end, for as you know, most Fairy tales always have surprising endings, or you’ll never know the ever after of it, and sure would miss a good adventurous chuckle, a Modern fabled romantic fantasy just for you, with a surprise moral to it as well...

1

Isnuggled down deeper into my covers, just as I heard the song DAYDREAM BELIEVER by the band THE MONKEES start to come on the tiny transistor radio on the shelf near my bed. It wasn’t a new tune, but I had always loved it.

I WAS SO DARN BEAT and had been running about today like never before, so much that I had forgotten to turn that small transistor radio off. Maybe I was coming down with something. My older sister Crissy, about four and a half, five years older said nothing about it. Usually, she’d let me have it, but luckily for me, she let it slide tonight. I knew she hated that song because it was one of my favorites and my father's, for my father, he would always comment before I’d be off to bed to say how much he loved the fact I was a true ‘daydream believer,’ just as he was; I was his ‘Ivy Jean, homecoming queen’, and one day when I did meet a white knight on his steed, I’d still be happy even if he only had a dollar or none to spend, right? He would always ask me that. Right! I would always reply, hugging him so tightly...I wish, how much I do wish he was still here to say it. I sighed and held the memory... and drifted off to my foggy forest friend waiting for me, as usual, and I smiled that special smile to myself, melting off into my dreamland... the song followed me there... into my own, wonderful, happy dreamland...

Shraden and I were inside the forest again, running, and frolicking through the huge, damp ferns. I had jumped atop a fallen tree log and was walking atop it, like a balance beam gymnast. Oh of course I wasn’t, not at all, but in a dream, you could always pretend, couldn’t you? My bed slippers had gotten dirty with mulch, and my nightgown had splotches of it as well as some moss, but I didn’t care and it never mattered. We could get as dirty as we wanted here. And no one ever bothered us. Every time I woke up back in my room I was always clean, just like every night.

Shraden took my hand so gently, to steady me as I jumped down, he moving back and being terribly careful and gallant, a word he told me about, like some young gentleman, as he always did. He was wearing his usual peasant-like -non-modern day clothes attire. Another big word he taught me. It looked older than the turn of the century present day for me, I think in our eyes, as he also taught me, maybe two or three centuries, a hundred years as he explained to me or tried to, always explaining the words and differences, but for his world, this world, it was brand new fashion, right down to his small ponytail tied with that dark blue velvet ribbon.

He had on this funny, elated grin, and bit his lip nervously. He seemed to have gotten even older and... taller since last night. Still on the thin, side, though, didn’t seem to eat enough. How he could grow overnight I couldn’t even say, but when in a dream, anything could happen so I didn’t even think twice about it. The creatures and animals around were making chirpy, chatty sounds, following behind us, the birds flying above to keep up as well. We had our critter entourage as if it was some nightly club, which, it was.         

"Let us go down to the lake, Ivy. I saw a wallop of a toad there yesterday and I want to fetch it for ye! Thou canst bring it back and show it to all of thyne friends!" Shraden exclaimed, mischievously.

Shraden grabbed at my arm and started hauling me off, deeper and deeper into the forest. His grip had gotten even stronger than the last time, and he seemed faster as well. But, he was still Shraden. Funny, frolicking Shraden, not a care in the world Shraden, best friend in the entire world till I die and beyond Shraden, the one I could never see myself without, never ever, one whom I lived to dream for.

"I can’t bring it back and you know that!" I said back to him, all flustered and testily, in a teasing sing-song way.

Shraden stopped and let go of my arm, blinking, with a tiny frown, staring at me oddly. His face was all mussed, and dirty, especially around the eyes, but I could still see that I had somehow hurt him. We had been horse-playing around in the dirt and ferns. He had been showing off his skills with handstands and cartwheels and flips and everything else he could think of doing and had rolled around a bit too much this time. He noticed I was looking at the smudges, and he tried to rub the stains away from his face but only succeeded in smudging it even more. That was odd. He had never done that before, tried to tidy himself in front of me; I didn’t care how dirty he was-I never did.

Forgive me, he softly said. "I wouldst never mock. I wish that thou couldst bring it back and give some of the young maidens, damsels there something to squeal over, and scream, yell and wail..."

"If I did they would call me names and never forgive me!" I told him, giggling endlessly, thinking of what would happen if I honestly did what he had mentioned if it was ever possible, and he nodded and happily laughed also.

He placed the big metal bucket he was carrying down, and taking my hands in his own, then spun, swung me round and round like a helicopter blade... chuckling, fast, faster, ‘till we

screamingly fell in a dizzying heap onto the ferny, flowered, moss-covered forest floor. 

We lay there a while, catching our breath and smelling the rich mulch around us. The misted air around me was getting thicker now, swirling, and tense little warning animal sounds began to fill my ears. I watched Shraden stand up and look about us warily. He leaned up against our huge, gnarled, moss-dripped willow tree, then grabbed its lowest branch and swung himself upward like a monkey, flipping himself upon the top of the branch.

And he just sat there, all huddled and clinging.

Ivy? He asked, in his olden English-sounding accent, staring down at me. At least I thought it was old English. He told me it was as close to it as it could be from my point of view.

Mhm? I answered, still lying there in the ferns, sniffing in the wafting, heady aroma of the sweetly scented flowers, staring up at him.

How-how long hath we known each other? he quietly asked.

I thought about that, and then I stood up and smoothed my rumpled nightdress, which was pretty messy due to all the rambunctious fun we were having, along with my legs and slippers. I walked over closer to him up on that large branch and scratched my head. His large, piercing blue, ‘larimar-hued’ eyes followed my hand.

"Well, I’m not too sure... maybe, about six to seven years? Something like that? I honestly can’t think back any further. Now, I’m  nine, in my years and I will be older kind of soon, not for a few more months, but it seems like I’ve known you ever since-"

Shraden dropped down in front of my eyes, upside down, sticking his grubby face right close to mine and making a  silly sound to get me to laugh. I spurted out a giggle again, so he had a victory.

"We have a lot of fun, thou dost agree, right? Please say that we have a lot of fun! More than anyone can or hath, in either of our worlds!" His voice choked strangely.

His large eyes seemed to be begging, pleading with me.

"Honest, I always have fun with you, Shraden. It’s all we ever DO, I earnestly said. I can’t wait till I drop off every night and hit that pillow!"

He then breathed a deep, huge sigh of relief, swinging slowly back and forth. Something...something strange was beginning to bother me, deep down inside about him, irked, and it was bewildering. It was something...new, that I had never felt before at all. So, I dared to bring it up.

"Shraden? Why are you asking such questions of me?  We’re always having fun, and fooling and telling jokes. We don’t need to be serious, not here. This is our time. Is there something wrong?"

Shraden then somersaulted off of the low-hanging branch, quickly, and seized my shoulders firmly, as if he never wanted to let go of me. He stared deep down into me,  as if... totally torn, distraught; a big word I heard my mother speak. He glared down at me, so upset as never before as if something inside of him was boiling, ripping him apart, making me tremble.

"Please tell me that thou art myne best friend and-and that thou shalt never, ever forget thee! Please tell me that, Ivy!  I must know of it!" His shaking voice demanded.

I just shockingly stared at him, kinda wide-eyed and stunned a bit- and then I answered him, in this weird, small voice.

"Well of course I’ll say it but why-

"Then say it, please, SAY IT!" He tensely, hoarsely replied.

My heart was beating, so fast and pounding. I was scared? Was that it? I was scared... of him. I have never had reason to be scared of him! Or maybe... I was just scared of what I was... feeling about him? What I was starting to feel? And how he was acting? I just wasn’t sure.

"You will always be my best friend, only you, Shraden. You know that. We were meant to be; just you and me; And never will I forget you, EVER-ok? It would be impossible. We will be together forever," I told him, fast, and truthfully, in a jumble. 

He bowed his head, seemed like he was embarrassed, and nodded, sighed once again raggedly, hopelessly, and then let go of me, turning his back and plopping down upon the leafy, green, mossy-fern floor, crossing his legs like a pretzel, twisting them together and they locked. He had always sat that way. I teased him about it constantly telling him if he wanted mustard to go with the pretzel but he would just smile at me joyfully when I would. He was hanging his head down, shivering and... rocking a bit, with another odd sigh, so very unlike him. He sniffed loudly and coughed nervously. It was so strange... why was he so upset?

Uneasily I crept toward him, sitting down beside him and crossing my legs the same way. They looked like the legs of one of those Buddha statues. He had also shown me how to do it. One of his suspender straps had fallen off his shoulder. I reached over and with care pulled it back up for him. He still did not move and sat like a stone. I put my arm around his shoulder to comfort him and patted his back. He sniffed again, eyeing me from beneath his dark locks that had tumbled over his striking, piercing, icy-like frost light blue eyes as my sister might describe them, she’d say larimar or my mom. But, since they’ve never seen them I’d just say they were his eyes, his wonderful, warm-hearted, caring eyes.

Shraden? I meant what I said, you know that. ‘C’mon, don’t worry, no worries here. You wanna go get that toad, uh, I mean frog you talked of now? I asked him, trying to break the eerie feeling and atmosphere hanging about us. 

He stood up slowly, silently grabbed at the bucket, and grasped my hand softly, helping me stand and starting to lead me over to the big, misted-over lake we knew so well, only without talking or saying a single word, so silent.

I glanced about, at all of the colorful, rainbow-fragrant flowers blooming, and it smelled like the inside of the flower shop around the corner where I lived, only it smelled even sweeter, thickened, heavy. The sunlight bounced and played upon the dewed petals, making everything shiny and glowing, glistening, for here, the world always seemed to glow and glisten; It was warm, and the birds were chirping and following us along and they were the only sound now around us. They started to drop and rain flower petals and little berries down at us, and I smiled wide and caught some with my free hand.

We walked that way a short while, so very silent, and then stopped at the misty lake edge in a quiet, somehow awkward stillness. Shraden’s eyes locked with mine, and they seemed so strangely upset, even a bit...’ flustered’, angered at me. I had never seen him stare like that at me before. Never was he ever behaving like this, and I had no idea how to react to it.

He put his finger to his lips, a sign to tell me to keep quiet, shush up, and not say anything. I rolled my eyes at him. I wasn’t saying anything anyway. He handed me the bucket and I took it, backing off a bit.

Then he moved over swiftly, balancing on one leg, leaning far, far over, precariously, oh so dangerously towards the lakefront water, hands reaching closer and closer to a rotted floating log that had the biggest and I mean THE biggest frog I had ever seen lazily sitting on it, basking in the misty sun. 

He made this sudden jerky move, swiping the water, splashing it all about. And then he whirled towards me, sticking this slimy, drippy huge thing in my face and laughing. It was a loud, frightened, tormented kind of laugh, not at all the way he usually would do so, and it startled me. He stuck the creature in my face again and laughed once more,  almost choking. Only it wasn’t ‘having a fun time laugh’... I wasn’t even sure how to classify it, as if he was laughing, but instead crying, the way my mom had done when they told her about dad...

It’s gigantic! It’s a giant! The only one of its kind! A freak in nature! And it’s all for yew, my-my be-loved milady, all for yew! He shrilled.  He swiped the bucket from me while still holding on to the bulgy-eyed creature with one hand, and then shoved the drippy croaker towards me.

I grabbed at the humungous frog, receiving it from his shaking hands, and glared at it in wonder. It... also seemed to glow, everything had this radiance in his forest, his World, that at home, my home, and we did not have. I did not know frogs could grow to this size. It must have been, was bigger than my entire head and I had a hard time keeping it in my grip but it...surprisingly didn’t even try to squirm away, as it should have. It just stared up at me, so curiously...as if it was the one examining ME.

What should we name it?  I asked him, with an intriguing whisper.

He shrugged, glancing downward awkwardly, seeming again embarrassed, even blushing, then back to me.

How about...Goliath? ’Tis just an overgrown boy bullfrog, Ivy; I’ve never seen one the likes of utterly gargantuan, such as this. He even seems... to personally like ye.

It sounds like a good name for him,  I told him, eagerly.

Shraden held out the large bucket and opened the flap lid. I placed Goliath in, then took the bucket from him and closed it. He started to silently walk back to where we had been before, slowly, trudging, and I followed him, so very silent.

ch1 no1 .jpeg

We arrived back at our usual area of the forest where we would meet, right under that Willow tree, huge gnarled, and mossy; I walked over to it and softly sat down below its swaying long sweeping branches, some dangling as far as they touched the ground beneath, and peered into the bucket through the crack on the top. Goliath croaked up to me, as if demanding to let him out. I chuckled, shaking my head and finger at him. 

I watched Shraden who was now standing right in front of me, as he began to in a jitter pace back and forth, sighing again, seeming troubled, his long, linen shirttail becoming loose as he whipped his figure deftly back and forth in the ferns.

"Ivy...?" He trailed, still pacing, kicking a small rock. It glowed too.

Yeeeesssss? Was my small voiced reply...

"Didst - didst thou ever get the feeling that something bad, something dark and dreadful... wast going to happen, and you couldst not do anything to stop it?"

I glanced up, seeing him standing there, being much too serious again. Nervously, I picked up the bucket, held it in my lap, and replied to him, very softly, standing back up and trodding over to his pacing figure.

"Sometimes; Why, Shraden?"

"Didst thou ever get that feeling and then... knowest what that something dark was going to be?" he persisted, hotly, mega-nervous.

A bird flew overhead, a loud raucous Blue Jay, followed by another, a bright red male Cardinal, and one of them decided to, dropped a large cherry, just bombed it flat on the top of Shraden’s head. It bounced off and he-he deftly caught it quick, making a face up at the bird. It cried back to him, reacting as if to warn him of his ‘weird’ behavior as if to purposely caution that he shouldn’t be speaking that way; I didn’t understand why he was asking such a strange thing.

"M-maybe once, twice-but why? Please, why say such things, will you stop saying these things?! You never say them! You’ve never said anything like this since I-

"I must say them! I MUST, Ivy! I am afeared!" He urgently whispered and yelled at the same time, bursting, if someone could honestly do that, rather panicky, very loudly, stopping dead in his tracks, wide-eyed.

"How... can you be scared? I asked, uneasily. There is nothing to be scared about! Not here, not with us! I’ve never seen you this way, or...even felt this...with you. You know, you know this is only a-

He quickly cut me off...

"Thy am scared because I hath a strong feeling WE art not going to SEE each other for a long, long time!" He threw out, forcibly, blasted.

He then backed off, shaking, his piercing eyes blazing with shock, all hollowed-like.

I smiled warmly, reached out gently to hold his hand, and grabbed the cherry he had caught within it. I took a small bite of it and held it out towards him to share it, talking calmly and cheerfully.

"Oh Shraden, you know that’s silly! People always dream, don’t they? And, since we always dream... I’ll always see you.  Nothing can stop me from dreaming, can it?" I honestly said to him, squeezing his hand.

Shraden scratched his head and then honestly thought about it, seeming confused. He took the half cherry and stared at it long and fully, and held it fast in his other hand, closing his fingers about it, and then opened them. It left a reddish stain on his palm. Another broken sigh escaped from him as if I just didn’t understand at all exactly what he meant, what he was attempting to explain.

"I... doth not know. All I know is-is that this is the only time I canst see ye! I have so much fun with ye, Ivy, like no other I have ever known or wilt know; thou art myne truest friend, heart oft heart; There be no other I feel that way for, or ever will; Dost thou...understand? Even if young what be betwixt us ’tis real, our-our honor for each other; Myne heart ...ist pledged for thine’s only; Always has been. I-I do not ever want thou to stop coming!" Was his hoarse, strained reply...

"Well, who said I was going to stop?" I said back to reassure him, steadfastly, marveling at the way he spoke, it reminded me of the old movies I’d sometimes catch glimpses of that my sister and mom would watch, and she’d explain them to me; it was beautiful. He was beautiful, even if all covered with slosh and sludge.

Shraden, with this look of all looks...He just glared back at me, trembling, as if he knew something...I didn’t, as if something awful, unmentionable was looming for us, something awful.

"Not one soul, Ivy, but-

I sighed, loudly and interrupted him.

SHHH! I stamped my foot down, really hard, trying to make him shut up. It worked, and a bunch of old leaves flew up all over as I did it.

"You listen, Shraden, please! I’ve been here every day, or night, whatever it-this is for the past seven years.  Not one soul can stop me from coming here! This is MY DREAM. I can do whatever I want to do in it!  Dreams are like that, you know. You can’t tell me I’m not going to dream about you anymore. This isn’t YOUR DREAM!" I spat at him, glowering.  After that, I crossed my arms with the bucket swaying in them and waited for him to answer me.

Hesitantly, he did.

"Ivy...myne beloved Ivy...do not you think... it is quite so odd that all of thyne years that thou couldst remember since born, thou hast ...been dreaming oft me?" He slowly, deliberately spoke. It was a strained, tired question, and it was done so seriously that it caught me off-guard, as did the aching torment of the tone of his voice.

A squirrel atop a branch above Shraden’s head then dropped...or threw a nut smack down on his shoulder, as if right on cue; it bounced off, and he caught that, too, glaring up at the