Free Escape with the Dream Maker by Gilbert L. Morris Page A

town. Reb had taken up residence there, camping out more or less, for the roof leaked badly when it rained.
    The other Sleepers were already there, and he saw that Reb had made a fire in the fireplace. The cheerful blaze was welcome, although it was not cold outside.
    Josh grinned, marching over to the fireplace and holding his hands out to the leaping yellow-and-redflames. “I always liked a fire. Wish we had some marshmallows and weiners. Remember those? Did all of you go on marshmallow roasts?”
    â€œSure did.” Wash grinned back at him. “And I always set mine on fire. Turned out to be nothing but a black cinder on the end of a coat hanger.”
    Everyone laughed, and Abbey said wistfully, “Every kid in America did that. We’d always take marshmallows and weinies and buns, make hot dogs, and sit around the fire and sing.”
    â€œI guess we all remember some of those good times,” Dave said. He was sitting on an upturned box, leaning against the wall, and his strong, tanned face caught the reflection of the fire as he turned to say, “Well, Josh, I guess we’ve got a decision to make, but some of us still aren’t too convinced about Oliver’s newfangled invention.”
    Immediately Josh began to explain all the advantages of returning home to life as it was. He was usually not eloquent—indeed, he was rather shy at times. Now, however, he was overflowing with words, and he spoke with excitement. The firelight’s flicker was reflected in his blue eyes as he spoke. He ended his appeal by saying, “So, you see, we won’t really be losing anything. All of us are tired of this struggle on Nuworld. Well, we don’t have to do it anymore.”
    A silence fell across the room.
    It was Wash who spoke up. “I see what you’re talking about, Josh—but I just can’t buy it.”
    Josh knew that Wash was the leader of the resistance against the idea of going home. Wash had never been in favor of the Dream Maker. For an instant, resentment filled Josh.
Why can’t he just go along with the rest of us?
he thought. But he was wise enough not to show his irritation. “Look, Wash, I know you’ve hadsome second thoughts about all this, but I don’t understand them. Do you like it here with all the hard times we’ve been having?”
    â€œWell, I had some hard times back in Oldworld. Some of you didn’t grow up like I did. My idea of a big meal was a moon pie and a Diet Coke. I can still remember some of the places we lived in,” he said slowly, his eyes thoughtful. “There was a lot of us in one little room. And we wasn’t there alone, either.” He shuddered. “There was rats there too. One of them bit my baby sister once.” Wash looked around and saw that the others were watching him intently. That seemed to embarrass him, and he said, “I didn’t mean to tell all that, but I think some of the rest of you might remember some hard times too.”
    â€œYou’re right about that, Wash,” Jake said. “It wasn’t a bed of roses for me on the lower East Side of New York. There were gangs there. They caught me one time and beat me so bad I couldn’t walk for a week. I had to have six stitches taken right here.” He touched his forehead where a faint scar traced over his right eyebrow. He frowned. “I wouldn’t want to go back to
that
again.”
    Josh saw that he had to do something. “Well, sure, we all remember hard times, but you’re forgetting one thing.”
    â€œWhat’s that?” Jake asked, raising his eyebrows.
    â€œWe know each other now,” Josh said. “I mean—look, Wash, I could get some money from my parents and send it to you if we’re living our lives again back in that time. You could do that too, Dave—give Jake a hand. Couldn’t you? We could help each other.” He went on quickly explaining how they would