Disquiet in the Night

It was just another day when Zoe awoke. She rose, brushed her teeth, showered, and dressed for work as usual. Before heading out the door of her loft apartment, she stopped in the small kitchen to enjoy a cup of coffee and a piece of buttered toast. It was while she was sipping her coffee that she remembered the dream – the same dream once again.

Last night marked the sixth night she’d had the reoccurring dream – a full week. As she’d slept, the vivid dream had entered into her subconscious yet again in crystal clear detail. Where she stood in the kitchen, she straightened as chills moved down her spine. How odd a dream to begin with but even odder still that where she stood, she was suddenly having such an adverse reaction.

In the dream, she had been at work, but things had appeared a bit diverse from her typical work environment. Furniture had been scattered about the room, while everyone had been covered in a white type of strange dust, and heat had seemed to emanate from all around. Her ears rang, making sounds muffled in the dream, but she could still hear the echoes of screaming, panicked people. It had all been much like a war zone.

As she finished her coffee, Zoe shook off the chills the memory of her dream invoked. It was, after all, just a dream. She’d likely been watching too many violent natured movies and should revert back to the Hallmark Channel. Yes, that must be what had precipitated the reoccurring dream – a suspense thriller she’d watched the previous night.

Moments later, she exited her apartment, to be greeted by Marcus, her closest neighbor.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Marcus said with a smile as he leaned over to pick up his morning paper. He was one of very few apartment dwellers who still liked to receive the hard copy of his paper in lieu of reading it online. “Heading to work, are you?”

“Good morning, Marcus. Yes, to work as usual. Hope you have a productive day of writing,” Zoe gave him a charming smile before she entered the elevator.

“Bye, Zoe. See you this afternoon,” Marcus waved.

In the elevator, Zoe greeted the residents from other floors, all on their way to work as well. She noticed Rodrigo who lived on the 14th floor in the rear. While he spoke to her whenever he saw her – usually only in the mornings or afternoons - she’d had little opportunity, much to her dismay, to get to know him. She hoped this might change. Rodrigo worked in the building situated next to hers, so it would be lovely if they could become better acquainted. Perhaps one day they'd have lunch together and that would lead to other possibilities? Zoe looked down at her feet and smiled at the thought. Rodrigo was arguably very handsome.

As everyone exited the elevator, the doorman, Paulie, greeted them all, wishing them a fine day as he opened the door for the tenants heading to work in the big city.

All about her, people bustled and hustled on sidewalks as Zoe made her way to the subway station, each person scurrying along to their own destination, few taking note of anyone else. Zoe always took the subway since she lived a good distance from work in a neighboring borough. Looking at her watch, she saw it was only 6:50 am. She still had a while before she had to arrive at work since she wasn't needed until 9:00 am. However, this morning, her plan was to arrive a bit earlier in order to be better prepared for a 9:00 am meeting.

As Zoe entered the subway car, her mind was engulfed again with the vivid and horrible images she’d previously dreamt of all week. Try as she might, she could not seem to shake the eeriness that came with the mental recollections. She seldom remembered her dreams for any length of time, but this persistent one seemed to linger in her memory in ways making her uneasy and leaving her feeling queasy.

Zoe looked around, wanting to distract herself from the memory of her repeated dream. A woman in a maid’s uniform was seated two rows over, her eyes closed as though she’d not gotten enough sleep. A young teenager lounged lazily against the side wall, one hand on the pole by his side. He was singing along to the music he heard through earbuds, an odd, offbeat sound in the silence of the morning subway. Across from Zoe, a woman sat, her arm around a young girl of about four or five. The child leaned across her mother’s lap, playing with a small doll. The young girl looked at Zoe and smiled. In another seat, an older woman with hair coifed meticulously and whose makeup and clothing were immaculate, sat upright as though she were a contestant in a beauty contest.

Zoe sighed and looked out the subway’s window, images flying past so quickly she could not manage to focus on any one thing. Again, despite best efforts, she was reminded of lingering images from the dream. Why could she not shake it? And why had it seemed so real, so haunting? Looking down at her hands clasped in her lap, she realized they were shaking. The dream had definitely affected her more than she had realized.

The subway came to a stop, and Zoe heard the call for Cortlandt Street. This was her stop. She quickly rose and headed out onto the platform and up the steps leading to the street. As she did so, a feeling of dread and something she did not recognize, filled her, making each stop feel leaden and heavy. When she reached top, she stopped at the closest payphone to call her mother.

“Morning Zoe! Is everything all right?” her mother immediately asked since she did not normally hear from her daughter until at least midday or even following work.

“Hey there, Mom. I’m fine. How are you?” Zoe asked.

“I’m good, but are you sure you're okay, dear? You sound a little different,” her mother heard the hesitancy in Zoe’s voice, quickly sensing there was an underlying reason for the call so early in the morning.

“Yeah, Mom, I’m okay. It’s just….” Zoe didn't really know how to explain about the reoccurring dream and how it had affected her.

“It’s just what, dear? Tell me what’s going on.”

“I had this horrible dream last night, Mom - about something bad happening at work. I can’t seem to shake it, so now I’m dreading going to the office. That’s crazy, right, Mom?” It all came pouring out, and Zoe’s mother could hear the fear in her daughter's voice.

“Now dear, didn’t you tell me you had that huge, important marketing meeting this morning first thing?”

“Yes,” Zoe admitted.

“Well, I’m sure the dream just reflected your fears about the meeting and nothing more. There is nothing to worry about, so go to work and show them what you’re made of in that meeting.”

Zoe was quiet for a moment before she said, “Yeah, mom, you’re probably right. It’s nothing but a bad dream.” Still, Zoe did not convince herself of the truth in the words she spoke.

“Okay, dear. Please be sure to call and let me know how the meeting goes. I love you, Zoe.”

“Yes, mom. Love you, too.”

Zoe hung up the phone and stood for a few minutes until someone knocked lightly on the glass door to let her know they were waiting for the payphone. She quickly murmured an apology and headed along the sidewalk. Stopping, she decided to grab a cup of coffee from the Starbucks before heading to the 82th floor of the next building, her place of work. Standing in line, she was greeted by her co-worker, Rachel.

“Morning, Zoe. Ready for your morning meeting? It’s a big one.”

“Yes, definitely,” Zoe tried to sound enthusiastic and confident.

Rachel arched an eyebrow questioningly. “What’s up with you? You don’t seem like yourself this morning. Are you sick?”

“It’s nothing. Just a bad dream about….” Zoe stopped midsentence, not wanting to seem crazy to her coworker.

Rachel laughed. “A dream? About the marketing department bursting into flames and the meeting being canceled, so we all could go home?”

The blood left Zoe’s face at Rachel’s words, but didn't respond. Instead, she stared back at Rachel, her brown eyes wide.

Rachel suddenly stopped laughing and looked at Zoe in disbelief. “I was just kidding. Are you sure you’re all right, Zoe?”

Zoe nodded. “Yeah, Rachel. I’m being stupid. The dream just seemed so real.”

Rachel picked up her latte and turned to leave. “Most dreams do seem real, I guess. Whatever your dream was, Zoe, I’m sure it was just some stupid dream caused by something you ate, like jalapeños.” Rachel laughed and headed out the door.

They all thought she was being silly, but Zoe’s gut was screaming in high volume at the moment. Thanking the barista for her cup of coffee, she turned and headed to the door. Moving the few steps toward the towering building where she worked, she stopped just short of the revolving glass doors at its entrance.

Zoe didn’t know how long she stood in front of the entrance doors, watching them revolve time and time, all she knew was that she could not take another step toward the building looming before her. Zoe’s mind was completely filled with was the memory of white dust covering everything, invading heat surrounding all around, ears ringing to muffled noises, and everyone screaming as they ran in circles, all panicked and confused by the chaos. Her legs felt weak, her hands shook more than they had on the subway, and the feeling in the pit of her stomach was anything but normal.

Meeting and work be damned! Zoe threw her cup of unfinished coffee in a nearby trashcan and turned to head back to the subway station. She never, ever called in sick, but today, she was definitely sick: sick from the memory of her repeated dream and uneasiness it created.

Heading back to the subway platform and waiting for the next train home, she glanced at her watch. It was now 8:15 am. She had stood on the sidewalk contemplating going inside to work much longer than she’d realized. The doors to the subway train opened, Zoe quickly entered and took a seat inside, an immense relief settling inside her as the train took off to quickly head the distance home. She would be home in plenty of time to call her boss and let him know she wouldn’t be able to attend the meeting or be in for the remainder of the day. She knew it was short notice, but she had so many unused sick days, he could not complain about her absence. While what she would tell him would not be completely accurate, it wouldn’t really be a lie either. She had felt unwell, exceedingly queasy and uneasy, as she stood in front of the tall building, and nothing or no one could have propelled her feet forward. She had tried, but to no avail. Her mother and Rachel would scoff at her absence – tell her she was being paranoid and silly – but at this point, she didn’t care. All she felt now, exiting the subway station and heading for home twenty minutes later, was unexplainable relief.

The doorman greeted her with a surprised look. “Hello, Miss Zoe. Are you unwell or did you forget something?”

“I’m fine, Paulie. I just decided to take the day off.”

“Very well. Enjoy your day.” Paulie said as she entered the elevator.

Zoe walked down the hall toward her apartment. As she was unlocking the door, Marcus opened his.

“Playing hooky?” he teased.

“Yes!” Zoe responded and laughed.

“Well, come over later for a game of rummy,” the older man said. “I’d love the company - and the distraction!”

“For sure,” Zoe said as she entered her apartment.

She placed her purse on the kitchen table and glanced at the wall. The clock read 8:45 am. Picking up the telephone, she called the office and apologized for the short notice, advising them she wouldn’t be into work. Going to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water, she then settled herself on the comfy sofa, very glad for some inexplicable reason she’d decided to come back home. Plumping up the pillows behind her, she relaxed and dozed off.

It was probably thirty minutes later that Zoe’s phone began ringing. Half asleep, Zoe considered not answering it, assuming it was work and that her boss was calling to fuss at her for not showing up, but thinking better of it, she sat up intending to answer the phone, but it stopped ringing.

Zoe yawned as the phone immediately rang again, as though someone was trying very hard to contact her. She could hear the roar of sirens from the streets outside; there seemed to be an overwhelming abundance of them. Was the building on fire? Zoe jumped up to answer the phone, but as she did so, there was urgent knocking on the door. Uncertain what was going on, Zoe grabbed the phone’s receiver and opened her door at the same time.

“ZOE!” Her mother screamed from the other end, not waiting for her to answer. She was obviously very upset about something.

“Mom? What’s happened? What’s wrong?” Zoe quickly asked.

As she spoke, she motioned to Marcus, who stood at her door, to enter; however, one look at his face told Zoe something was very wrong. Marcus’ eyes were riddled with fear and he appeared panicked, unsure. He mouthed the words, ‘Turn on the TV’.

“Zoe! Where are you?” her mother was yelling so loud that Zoe had to steer the receiver away from her ear. Her mother was sobbing. What on earth had happened?

“Mom, I’m okay – I’m okay. I’m at home. What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

“Oh my God! Thank God!” her mother’s sobs changed to relief and could be heard through the phone. She had finally ceased her screaming.

Zoe looked questioningly at Marcus and quickly turned on the television. Was that fear she saw in Marcus’ eyes? As she looked at the screen, she saw the headlining words she would never forget, “Airplane Crashes into Twin Tower in Freak Accident”.

Dear God in Heaven - it was the Twin Tower where she worked. It was now 9:03 am and as they watched the television, their faces reflected horror only minutes later as a second plane hit the sister tower. This was no freak accident. Zoe could scarcely think less alone speak as she still heard her mother’s sobs over the phone.

“Mom. Mom. Calm down. I’m okay. I didn’t go to work,” she said, attempting to calm her mom while also trying to steady her own nerves. Marcus touched Zoe’s arm and squeezed it reassuringly, wanting to offer both comfort and a prayer of thanks she’d decided to return home this morning. Zoe, on the other hand, remained in complete shock.

At long last, her mother calmed down and was able to say, “I’m so thankful you didn’t listen to me, Zoe, you know, about the dream. It must have been a premonition. I was so stupid, Zoe – you could have died. Thank God in Heaven you didn’t listen to me! What would I have done? All those poor people, Zoe.” Her mother began to weep again.

Zoe’s heart sunk and tears filled her eyes. The dream. The horrible dream had been more than a horrible dream – it had been a premonition. There was absolutely no doubt of it any longer. She thought immediately of all the people with whom she worked and those she knew, like Rodrigo, who worked in the sister tower. Would they perish or would they be able to escape? It did not seem likely in the face of the situation. She immediately said a prayer for those in the towers and all around.

Her heart broken, Zoe and Marcus continued to watch the news the remainder of the long day and well into the night. Outside, there was the sound of nonstop sirens that filled the air. She knew that she would forever give thanks she had listened to her gut and paid attention to the foreboding message of her repeated dream. She would never, ever again doubt herself or her intuition. This day, September 11, 2001, was a day that would haunt her, and so many others, for as long as they lived.

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Dedicated to the many victims and survivors of 9/11 as well as the thousands of fearless, dedicated responders, both professional and otherwise, on that tragic day in America’s history.