Hidden in Dreams

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Authors: Davis Bunn
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indication that the recipients of these dreams are religious.”
    Elena repeated the word: “Recipient.”
    “What else would you call them? Tell me, please. I’m desperate to find another word to describe them.”
    “Why, Jacob, because it hints at a connection beyond the measurable? Because it suggests a greater force is at work?” When he did not reply, Elena went on: “There are a number of places in the Bible where dreams come to people who do not believe in God. That is not the critical issue. What is vital is that the interpreter be a person of faith. God grants to some a special gift. They hold the power to explain his message. This is why I feel faith has a vital role to play. Not just in dreams. But in the individual’s overall health and in the treatment of any number of disorders. So long as psychologists avoid the issue of faith, they cut themselves off from an entire portion of the human psyche.”
    “My father would certainly agree with you,” Jacob said. His tone was flat, his expression fixed.
    “So how would you suggest we proceed?”
    He pondered this through several miles. Finally he replied, “I feel we should focus on the one central point that we can nowprove. A collection of individuals who have never met, who are separated by vast distances, are all being affected by the same dream.”
    “‘Affected’ is too weak to describe the experience. The dreamer is assaulted, ” Elena replied. Jacob’s unwillingness to include faith was not so much a vacuum as a path not taken. But arguing over this would get them nowhere. There was nothing, however, keeping her from having a running discourse with herself. Which she did. For the remainder of their three-hour journey, she talked with Jacob on one level, and prayerfully dialogued on another.
    The traffic around Miami was awful. Jacob had been there often enough, for reasons he saw no need to explain. Which Elena took to signify that a woman was involved. Without his guidance she doubted they would ever have arrived at their destination. He directed her down small palm-lined roads, through a subdivision of one-story concrete bungalows, until they turned onto the main shopping street of Coral Gables. They halted in front of the Ritz-Carlton, an upscale hotel of brick and glass that was built to resemble an Aztec pyramid, right down to the hanging vines that tumbled down the stepping-stone structure.
    They followed the instructions passed on by Jacob’s colleague, and took the elevator to the top floor. A portly young man was seated where the elevators opened into the main hallway, talking softly into his phone and making rapid notes. He held up one finger, signaling for them to wait. The young man did not appear to have a single sharp edge to his body. Even his voice was soft, a melodious tone that lingered on each word. Elena decided his patients probably all loved him for his voice. Every word seemed to carry the promise of comfort.
    He shut the phone and stood. “Forgive me. That was a patient I had to cancel because of the issue bringing us together. Dr. Burroughs, what an honor. I have long admired you fromafar. Bob Meadows. I loved your book. Positively adored it. I’ve read it six times. Or is it seven? Never mind. Thank you so much for coming.”
    “The fact that we’ve remained friends is an indication of how much I value the man,” Jacob said.
    “Never mind Jacob. He was born with a rampant gene. All behaviorists possess this. It requires them to spend their entire lives hunting madly for order inside the chaos of human existence.”
    “Bob and I were roommates in college,” Jacob said. “We’ve been arguing ever since.”
    “And with good reason. When I heard what he’d said to you at the Emory event, Dr. Burroughs, I was mortified. Jacob has always assumed that a good mind and a faculty with words make him right on all matters. It is one of his greatest faults. I hope he has apologized.”
    “Profusely,” Jacob

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