Read Online What Dreams May Come by Richard Matheson - Free Book Online

Katie lay beside me, warm head on my lap, occasionally stretching, sighing with contentment. I kept stroking her head, unable to get over the pleasure of seeing her. Wishing again and again that Ann were there. It was only after a long time that I noticed the house.
    I wondered how I could have missed it; it was only a hundred yards away. The sort of house Ann and I had always planned to build some day: timber and stone with enormous windows and a huge deck overlooking the countryside.
    I felt immediately drawn to it; I didn’t know why. Standing, I began to move toward it, Katie jumping up to walk beside me.
    The house stood in a clearing ringed by beautiful trees— pines, maples and birches. There were no outside walls or fences. To my surprise, I noticed that there was no door at the entrance either and that what I’d taken for windows were only openings. I noticed, too, the lack of pipes and wires, fuse boxes, gutters and television aerials, the form of the house harmonious with its surroundings. Frank Lloyd Wright would have approved, the thought occurred. I smiled, amused. “He might actually have designed it, Katie,” I said. She looked at me and, for a fleeting moment, I got the impression that she understood me.
    We walked into a garden near the house. In its center stood a fountain made of what appeared to be white stone. I approached it and dipped my hands into crystal water. It was cool and, like the tree trunk and grass blade, emitted a soothing flow of energy. I took a sip of it. I’d never tasted water so refreshing. “Want some, Kate?” I asked, looking at her. She made no move but I received another impression: that water was no longer needed by her. Turning back to the fountain, I raised some water in the cupped palms of my hands and washed it over my face. Incredibly, the drops ran off my hands and face as though I’d been waterproofed.
    Amazed by each new facet of this place, I walked, with Katie, to a bank of flowers and leaned over to smell them. The subtlety of their odor was enchanting. Too, their colors were as varied as the colors in a rainbow though more iridescent. I cupped my palms around a golden flower edged with yellow and felt a tingling of that energy running up my arms. I put my hands around one flower after another. Each gave off a stream of delicate force. To my added amazement,
    I began to realize that they were, also, generating soft, harmonious sounds.
    “Chris!”
    I turned quickly. A nimbus of light was entering the garden. I glanced at Katie as she started wagging her tail, then looked back at the light. My eyes adjusted and it began to fade. Approaching me was the man I’d seen—how many times? I couldn’t recall. I’d never noticed his clothes before; a white, short-sleeved shirt, white slacks and sandals. He walked up to me, smiling, arms outstretched. “I felt your nearness to my home and came immediately,” he said. “You made it, Chris.”
    He embraced me warmly, then drew back, still smiling. I looked at him. “Are you … Albert?” I asked.
    “That’s right.” He nodded.
    It was our cousin, Robert; we always called him Buddy. He looked marvelous; as I recalled him appearing when I was fourteen. Amend that. He looked far more vigorous.
    “You look so young,” I said. “No more than twenty-five.”
    “The optimum age,” he replied. I didn’t understand that.
    As he leaned over to stroke Katie’s head and say hello to her—I wondered how he knew her—I stared at something I haven’t mentioned about Mm. Surrounding his entire form was a shimmering blue radiation shot through with white, sparkling lights.
    “Hello, Katie, glad to see him, are you?” he asked. He stroked her head again, then straightened up with a smile. “You’re wondering about my aura,” he said.
    I started, smiling. “Yes.”
    “Everybody has them,” he told me. “Even Katie.” He pointed at her. “Haven’t you noticed?”
    I looked at Katie in surprise. I hadn’t