5:57 p.m.

Chad Mueller had been working at the Municipal district for three months, transferring paper files to computer disc.
He had also immediately gotten a Jones for Ariana, spending the better part of his tenure at the M.D. trying to get a date with her. Ariana was flattered by Bob’s advances, but felt he was a bit to young for her. She had already gone through her ‘mindless dating’ stage, and although Chad was very charming, he wasn’t exactly marriage material. Judy, one of the other girls at the store told Ariana that it wouldn’t hurt to humor him, but Ariana was pretty sure it would. She had been ‘humored like that’ one too many times and she knew just how much it could hurt.
Normally Ariana left the office by the front entrance before closing. Tonight, however, she had some overtime to do. She had planned to visit her parents on Thanksgiving weekend and was making sure she wouldn’t have a ton of work to do when she got back. When Chad got finished with cleaning up his office and spied Ariana working late, he believed it to be a certain sign from God. Three months of failure could be reversed in a single moment; all he had to do was play it cool.
“You're going to work yourself out of a job Ariana.” he joked, throwing his tattered old over coat down on the end of her desk.
“Hi Chad,” she smiled, not having it in her to tell him to go away. Ariana had a soft heart for the underdog, and Chad was definitely that. “I have to get this finished before I go. I'm working overtime so I can take a longer vacation at Thanksgiving. I want to go see my parents in Swift Current.”
Chad continued on persistently. “I guess that means you're not up for supper at Mario's?”
“Thanks,” Ariana said, her voice betraying a bit more of her discomfort this time, at which Chad's face changed expression slightly. She picked up on it and added quickly, “Chad, I appreciate the offer but I've told you how I feel about that.”
Chad threw his arms up in the air in mock dismay. “Just supper! One harmless meal! Not a ring, not marriage!” He ranted on for a few more moments, then stopped when he realized he wasn't getting anywhere. “Are you sure?”
Ariana nodded at him.
“Oh well. . . had to try.” He picked up his coat, then grinned and said, “You’re my reason for getting up in the morning.”
Ariana threw her pen at him as he laughed and ran out the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Good night Chad.” Ariana replied, shaking her head.
She resumed her work placing the new clothing on their respective racks. An hour passed, and she rose to stretch.
As she pushed back her chair and turned towards the stairs leading up to the coffee room, there was the sound of the ceiling fans slowing down and then she was enveloped in the red glow of the exit lights.
Ariana swore softly and stumbled across the room to where the Judy's desk was. a smoker, she always kept matches in case her lighter ran out. Ariana found them and lit one, then went in search of the power box.
The main breaker had shut off, and Ariana checked the instructions on the side of the box, and then decided she would try to fix things on her own before phoning the power company.
She placed her hand on the switch for the main breaker, but it flipped suddenly of its own accord. Startled, Ariana jumped back, burning herself with the flame of the match. The lights came back on, and the whir of the ceiling fans returned.
She walked, a bit shaken, back to the main building. As she came through the kitchen, her eyes went wide and she dropped the match book.
Seated at the main counter was the young blonde girl from her dreams, writing in crayon on some lined paper.
“What are you doing?” was all Ariana could think to say, walking slowly across the room.
The young girl looked up, her eyes filled with knowledge far beyond her years. Ariana shivered, realizing that no matter how human this little girl appeared to be, she was not. The girl hopped down from the chair and with a sweep of her hand, gestured toward the paper. Ariana turned her head to look, and read what the girl had written.

Ragman

She blinked, then turned to look at the young girl.
The room was empty.

6:57 p.m.

“I don’t know any of the people in the dream, but I knew the place, distantly, like how I remember seeing Grande Prairie as a child, but only in snatches," Brian told Simon. Having been released from the hospital, they he and Simon were sitting in Brian's dorm room. "When I’m there, I know I’ve been there before.” Brian paused to run his fingers through a dark mass of wavy hair. He closed his eyes and concentrated, trying hard to recall the dream visions. “I’m on a huge rocky hill, made of sharp black stone. It overlooks a dark stream, a huge cemetery and miles of deserted country. Coming up the hill are two children, followed by a man dressed all in black leather. When they reach the top, the dream shifts and it’s as though I’m seeing through the eyes of one of the children. The man in black leather asks me a question, which I apparently know the answer to because he smiles and nods, and then holds my head in both hands and twists my neck. I think he breaks it, because I always wake up at that point. I read somewhere you can’t dream your own death because then you’d actually be dead.”
“Well, its not as simple as all that.” Simon said. “ And you say this place seemed familiar, as though you’d been there before?”
Brian nodded. “Last night the dream changed. And it felt more real.”
“How was it different from the other nights?” Simon asked.
“Well last night instead of the two kids there was a man dressed like a cowboy. They climbed the hill, then walked to the edge of the stretch of rock that the kids always stood on. It looks like it’s part of a natural bridge or something, and the other piece has fallen away. Anyhow, this time I remain outside anyone’s body, like I’m invisible. The cowboy hands his gun over to the guy in leather, who says something I can’t hear, ‘cause the wind’s so loud. It looked like he said something about a pail, or bail. It was an ‘ail’ word at any rate. Then the cowboy says something and the guy in black shoots him in the head. . . and then I woke up again.” Brian shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know what to make of it, but it’s been bothering me all morning.”
“We could take a look through some of the books in the library on dream interpretation or something like that.” Simon suggested.
“I was going to talk to one of the faculty tomorrow. Why not wait?” Brian asked, “Besides, maybe it is just a dream.”
“Just a dream?” Simon said, his voice betraying agitation. He usually spoke in slow, deliberate syllables, so excitement only caused him to speak at a normal speed and timbre. “In my country, dreams are held in higher regard than they are here. Very seldom would we pass off a dream such as yours without trying to reason out why it was given to you. I think it may be a message from God.”
“That's what I'm afraid of.” Brian said as they stood and threw on their jackets.

7:28 p.m.

Ariana, disturbed by the appearance of the blonde girl decided to lock up early and go home.
She arrived a little before seven thirty, and after closing the door, slumped down on the floor and breathed a deep sigh. She felt a rough tongue run across her cheek, then a warm body push against hers, then the sound of purring.
“Oh Sarah didn't Jennifer come home and feed you?” she asked, grabbing the black tabby's face. She picked the cat up and walked to the kitchen.
She threw her coat on the table and then grabbed the bag of cat food from the cupboard. She stooped over and began pouring the food into Sarah's dish. Sarah stared intently at the fish and liver stream, until suddenly her head jerked up and she stared down the hall leading to Ariana's bedroom.
“What's wrong Sarah?” Ariana asked in a baby voice, putting the bag down and turning her head in the direction Sarah was looking.
At the end of the hall, right by her bedroom door, the young girl and the dark haired boy with brown eyes were seated, playing with stuffed animals. Their laughter seemed thousands of miles distant.
Then, suddenly, a tall man dressed in black leather strode out of her bedroom, past the children and strode toward Ariana. He raised a gun and . . .
Ariana had closed her eyes. She waited a moment for the explosion of the gun going off. It never came. She opened her eyes slowly, to an empty hallway. Her bedroom light, however, was still on, and there was the sound of a woman's voice emanating from within.
She walked slowly, her hands shaking, to her room and looked in. The young girl was in her bed, dressed to go to sleep. An attractive lady with long blonde hair was seated beside her, reading her a story.
The woman's voice came across the room, soft and loving, “So the Ragman said, 'Give me your jacket and I'll give you mine.'“
“Mom...” Ariana whispered, then fell to her knees and began sobbing uncontrollably. She looked back into the room. It was dark as it had been before. She raised her head to the roof, her eyes blurred with tears. What are you trying to tell me? Help me understand. . . do something to help me understand.
The image of her mother faded, and the room went dark. No answer came.

7:35 p.m.

“Here's another pile. Have you found anything yet?”
Brian looked up from the book he was leafing through to see Simon put down five new ones. He shook his head.
“Some.” He leaned back in his chair, “All the Freudian interpretations explain the vision as sexual frustration and the cowboy's gun as a phallic symbol. The presence of the cowboy may be some repressed fantasy I have.”
Simon smiled in spite of his own exasperation. “That's too bad. This is like looking for the needle in a haystack and we're not even sure which haystack the needle's in. If only I knew what it was that the man in black had said to the cowboy.” He sighed and closed the book he was looking through.
The sun’s orange glow shone in through the library window, causing the pages of the book Brian was looking over to reflect their warm hue. Brian looked over at his shoulder and smiled. “I love autumn sunsets.” he remarked.
Simon looked up at the spectacle. “It is beautiful. Especially here on the prairie, where you can actually see it. Where I lived in South Africa, there were too many trees and hills to see that properly.”
The two reflected a few more moments on the setting sun, then returned to their reading. Almost immediately, Brian perked up.
“Here's something!” He stood and came around the table, placing the book where Simon could see it better. “It was the belief of a select group of Blackfoot Indians located on the banks of the South Saskatchewan River that there was a doorway to the Spirit World that was opened only to those chosen by the Great Spirit for mighty heroic deeds. In their native tongue it was called...can't pronounce it. Here's the part that will blow you away. In a thesis written by Dr. Jonah Trevelyan of the University of Lethbridge, the realm was dubbed the Pale. P - A - L - E, not P - A - I - L.”
“Our Dr. Trevelyan?” Simon asked. Dr. Jonah Trevelyan was the one of the University’s Theology professors, one of their most esteemed faculty members; Brian attended Jonah’s class on Comparative Religions. “What book is it?”
Brian flipped the cover over to check. “In Between Worlds: an anthology of myths and folklore regarding other planes of existence, compiled by Lucas Vanderhoek. . .”
Brian's voice trailed off as he looked up to meet the gaze of the Cowboy from his dream.
Simon looked in the direction Brian was gazing, but saw nothing. He looked back at his friend. “Are you all right Brian?”
“Its the cowboy. . .”
Simon looked around incredulously. “Where?”
Brian looked at his friend, fear showing in his eyes. “Can't you see him?”
Simon shook his head. “No, I can't.”
Brian looked back to where the cowboy had been standing. He was gone, but the door to the library was slowly closing shut.
Brian jumped from the table, dropping the book and raced out into the hall, to see the Cowboy walking away towards the chapel. Brian ran after him, reaching the chapel only seconds after the cowboy had gone in. He opened the door and entered the dark auditorium.
The air inside the chapel was not still and warm, as it should have been, nor did it have the musty smell of a room where large groups of people often meet. Rather, the smell of pine and the sharp clarity of outdoor air assailed Brian’s nostrils. There was a faint wind and the chill of autumn air. As Brian's eyes adjusted, he could see the dark outline of trees against a slowly greying sky.
He walked forward, bewildered and broke through the trees into a ditch, beside a highway which glistened with newly fallen rain. Standing at the side if the road was a young women with shoulder length black hair, wearing jeans and a rain slicker, a pack thrown over her shoulder. She looked tired.
Brian waved to her. “Hey! Lady! Where are we?”
“She can't hear you.” came a calm voice from behind him. Brian wheeled about to come face to face with the Cowboy.
Brian staggered backward, but when the Cowboy made no signs of advancing, asked, “You’re the cowboy from my dreams. Am I dreaming now?”
The cowboy thought for a moment, then replied, “Sort of.”
“I feel like I’m talking to Simon. Either I’m dreaming or I’m not, right?”
“Two days ago I would have said yes,” the cowboy said. “But not now. I know a lot more now than I did then. It’s a much bigger world than I thought.” He bit his lower lip, as if deep in thought.
Brian was almost hesitant to break the man’s reverie, but he finally asked, “Where exactly are we?”
The cowboy opened his mouth to answer. “A simple question. . . but one that I’m not really able to answer, seeing as I don’t really know myself. It’s a place in between worlds.” replied the Cowboy.
“Come again?”
“We're in between the dream and true reality. In between the great illusion and the Pale.”
“The Pale! What is the Pale? What was that dream I had about you all about? What's going on?” Brian's voice had risen to a shout.
“I can’t answer those questions for you. I wish I could, but I’m really quite new at all this. I’m only supposed to give you a message. Go East, to the Banks of the South Saskatchewan River.” The Cowboy pointed at the female hitchhiker. “She's calling for you.” He turned and began back to the tree line.
“That girl there?” Brian called, as the cowboy disappeared into the half light of the forest.
Brian stole another glance at the girl beside the road. Dark, shoulder length hair, olive complexion, and deep brown eyes. She would be difficult to forget, that was certain. Then he turned and ran after the cowboy. Brian plunged headlong into the forest’s twilight, branches slapping into his outstretched hand. He couldn’t see the cowboy anywhere, and the visibility within the trees was next to nothing. The sun’s diminished rays no longer worked their way amongst the sturdy trunks. Brian called out to the cowboy, but heard no reply. Turning back to ward the road with a sense of panic, Brian raced forward. He cried out as an explosion of pain shot up from his kneecap.
He dropped to the ground. Light flooded his vision and he squinted to see what had happened. Looking up, he could make out Simon standing a few feet from him in the doorway to the chapel.
What’s going on?
“Where have you been?” Simon asked. “I followed you in here, but when I came in, I couldn't find you.”
Brian sat up, cradling his knee which had struck the edge of one of the chapel pews. “I did come in here. . . and when my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I was in a forest. . .But I can't have been.”
“Maybe not, but you were not in here, and I was right on your heels. It was only when I left and went to look for you outside that I heard you cry out.”
Brian sat in silence, nursing his knee. Simon walked over and helped him to his feet. He gasped as his hand brushed away pine needles from Brian’s shirt. “It would appear you did fall in a forest.”
“What's going on Simon?” Brian asked.
“I'm not sure. What I am sure is that for reasons unknown to us, God has chosen you for some very special purpose.”
Brian grimaced, “I just wish I knew what it was.”