Fidds ditched school the next day, like Lilith suggested. He'd never heard an adult sanction his skipping school, that was for sure.

As he walked down the dirt roads (being sure to avoid anywhere his ma might find him), he thought about his and Lilith's conversation the day before. It was practically all he'd been thinking about since. She'd asked him to consider what she'd said — about the mind being powerful — but he hadn't gotten very far. He couldn't think of one blessed thing you could do with your mind. Now, your body — you could do plenty with your body. You could build things, you could repair things, you could plant crops, you could run and run and run under the summer sun. But your mind?

All Fidds' mind was good for was thinking up things to build. Then he'd build them out of whatever materials he could find — an eraser, some pencils, a chalk tablet — only to get yelled at for not paying attention. Or he'd get called stupid by his teacher because he couldn't answer a math question on the spot. He knew the answer just fine! He just got so flustered when called on that he forgot it. He was terrible in school.

So the fact that Lilith agreed with him about school's uselessness excited him in a way he couldn't describe.

Should he go back to her shack? It was a question he'd been asking himself all the night before. He didn't think he wanted anything to do with the so-called "powers of the mind," but. . . maybe they'd help him in school. Maybe they'd stop the teachers from paddling him. Lilith had certainly seemed to think they'd keep him safe from bullies.

Without thinking about it, Fidds' feet turned him toward Lilith's shack. He walked idly along, not even realizing where he was until he crested the little hill that stood above the dwelling. Then he stopped, looking around the little valley of the not-witch. Here again?

"Young Fiddleford!"

Fidds jumped. There was Lilith, standing outside her shack, leaning on her cane. How did she appear out of nowhere like that? He hadn't seen her before!

Well, he couldn't very well walk away now that she had noticed him. He carefully picked his way down the hill toward her. He dreaded this. . . but was excited at the same time. His body had carried him here with no consult to his mind, and now it carried him down the hill despite his worries. He was drawn to this Lilith Crypt, sure as the autumn sun that beat down on his shoulders.

"You skipped school," she said approvingly. "And now you's back to know more about the powers of the mind?"

A buzz of nervousness tore through Fidds' stomach. "Well, ma'am," he said slowly, "I ain't never been told to skip school before."

"Feels nice, don't it?" She leaned even more heavily on her cane. "The sun on your shoulders, the breeze in your hair — school ain't neva gave ya that."

Fidds found himself nodding along. She was right. School seemed to steal all that was worth living for and convert it into drudgery.

"Well, anyways," Lilith said. "Come, boy, come sit with me. Let's sit on my porch and talk awhile, hmm?"

She hobbled over to a chair that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and settled into it with a relieved moan. Her "porch" was nothing more than a cloth draped over two wooden poles that jutted from the side of her shack. When she sat down, though — it appeared to be the porch of a royal palace.

There was only one chair, so Fidds sat on the ground.

"Did you do as I suggested?" Lilith asked once they were both situated. "Didja pay attention to your dreams?"

Fidds hesitated. "Uh, well," he hedged, "I don't remember my dreams none."

A gleam danced in Lilith's eye. "But you did last night."

Fidds started. "How d'ya know?"

"I just know these things." Lilith shrugged lightly, but the pride in her eyes contradicted the nonchalance of the gesture. "So," she said, "what's the dream?"

"Um." Fidds rocked back and forth, as children are wont to do. "I was in. . . in a ditch." He squinted his eyes, trying to remember. That's right, the ditch behind his house, with its weedy slopes and broken bottles. Fidds' pa used this ditch as his personal trash can.

"It was stormy," Fidds continued, "and. . . there was broken glass everywhere. . . and the glass — it started moving. . . ."

Lilith was silent as Fidds spoke, but the words behind her eyes seemed to push against her pupils.

"It swirled up in this sudden wind. . . windier than it usually gets. . . and. . ."

He stopped, looking sheepishly up at Lilith.

"Go on," she encouraged. "No judgment here. Share your dream, young Fiddleford, and set it free."

Fidds took a deep breath. "Well. . . those bullies were there. . . and they were making the glass shards fly. They. . . they yelled at me. . . . They told me they was using the powers of the mind. . . ." He peered up at Lilith again. "I woke up after that."

Lilith nodded sagely. "I see," she mused. "I see. . ."

"Do you know what my dream means?" Fidds didn't think anyone could know what dreams meant. They were pretty random.

"Yes. . . yes, your mind was warning you. Something deep in your consciousness understands the powers of the mind, understands the dangers. It's trying to warn you."

Fidds' eyes widened. "Then — if they're dangerous, I probably shouldn't learn them, should I?"

Lilith waved a hand. "No, no, it's not telling you ya shouldn't learn them. It's tellin' ya to be cautious. Which I woulda told ya too. The powers of the mind are nothin' to be trifled with."

This was getting more confusing by the second. "But — but ma'am — what are the powers of the mind?"

Lilith gave him a sly smile. "Do you really wanna know?"

Well now he had to know, or it would drive him crazy forever. He opened his mouth, but Lilith cut him off.

"Because once you know," she said, "life neva goes back to how it was when you didn't know."

Fidds thought about that. He didn't know if she meant it literally, but he did know that he wouldn't mind his life changing. It was pretty dull.

Well, unless you count the bullies. They weren't dull.

But Lilith claimed that the powers of the mind could get rid of them.

"I wanna know," Fidds said decisively.

Lilith's smile widened. "I knew you would."

She shifted in her seat, wincing in pain as she did so. She covered the wince up quickly, though. "To begin," she said, "tell me whatcha know about dreams."

Fidds gaped at her. A test? He skipped school, and she gave him a test?

She chuckled at the look on his face. "It's okay, boy, I ain't testin' ya. There's no right or wrong answer. I just wanna know what you know."

He looked at her warily before deciding that she was probably safe. She didn't seem like a person who would make fun of him. Still, everything he knew fled from his brain as he tried to think of it, even though it wasn't technically a test.

"Nothin'," he finally admitted. Which wasn't entirely true, but he'd rather Lilith tell him things he already knew than this futile attempt to pry knowledge from the recesses of his brain.

Lilith gave him a look that seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. "Okay," she said, "I'll start from the ground up, then. First, you dream every night."

Fidds stared at her. "Wouldn't I remember them if they happened every night?"

Lilith shook her head. "Your mind blocks you from remembering all of 'em. T'keep you safe. T'keep the world safe."

"Safe from what? They're just dreams."

"Well, d'ya ever have nightmares?"

Okay, he could see what she meant. "Y-yes'm," he said. "That dream from last night was a nightmare, weren't it?"

"Nightmares are scary," she said, "but they're just in your head. Can you imagine what would happen if nightmares ever came to the real world?"

Yeah, he could. Every day at school. Every time his teacher called on him. Every time he failed a test.

"I mean actual nightmares, the ones that happen in your sleep. Stuff in real life can be pretty bad, but usually it makes sense. In nightmares, things happen out of nowhere, like them glass shards suddenly flyin' up off the ground. By not remembering your dreams, your mind is keepin' ya safe from them becoming real."

"Dreams can't become real," Fidds said automatically. That much he knew.

"Can they?" Lilith leaned forward, and a tone of mysticism entered her voice. "That's what the powers of the mind are," she said. "The ability to access an ether of power that's all around us. The ability to make your dreams come into the real world."

Fidds hit her with another stare. Maybe she was just some crazy witch after all, because that wasn't possible. You couldn't just make your dreams real.

Right?

"That's why your mind protects you," Lilith continued. "That much power is dangerous. If everyone could make their dreams real, the world would be chaos."

She raised her cane and gently tapped Fidds' knee. "But sometimes, the universe —the ether — entrusts special people to know about it. People like us. And them people? We can learn to do it. We can learn to bring dreams into reality."

"M-me?"

"Yessir, you. I can teach ya to access the ether. It's somethin' I been workin' on for. . . well, years. If you learn to use the powers of the mind. . . well, then, you can make them bullies go away. You can make school disappear."

Fidds couldn't believe it. But. . . but he really wanted it to be true. "Can you. . . can you show me? Could you make a dream become real right now?"

Lilith sighed and leaned back in her chair. "It's not that simple. I've dedicated my life to the mind, and I can do little things — like how I could tell that you remembered your dream from last night. I'm still working on it, though. Still working on the big stuff."

Fidds deflated in disappointment. "Oh."

Silence permeated the makeshift porch for a moment before Lilith shifted again. This time, she braced herself on her cane and stood. "C'mon, boy. I have somethin' I wanna show t'ya."

Fidds got to his feet, and as Lilith hobbled away, he raced to her side. "D'ya want. . ." He cleared his throat. "Ma'am, would you like assistance?" he asked, and he spoke in his best polite-young-man voice, just like his mama taught him.

"Bah." Lilith waved her free hand. "The day I can't walk is the day I'd like assistance. Today I'm on my feet, so I'm fine." She glanced at Fidds. "Thanks for the offer, though."

Fidds blushed.

She went around her shack and walked out, away from the hill. Fidds followed her, and he quickly wanted to scream. She was going so slow! He offered to help her out of habit, out of kindness, but now he just wished he could help her so she would actually get moving.

"Patience, young Fiddleford." A sideways glance from Lilith told Fidds that he'd been caught. She knew what he was thinking. "A nice slow walk out in nature can reset your soul. Relax — enjoy it."

Well, if she knew so much about dreams, she probably knew a lot about souls, too. So Fidds didn't question her. But he didn't find it easy to follow her advice, either.

"Here, let's talk," Lilith said after a few minutes. "That helps pass the time. How old are you, Fiddleford?"

"Y-you can just — uh — call me Fidds," he said shyly.

"All right-y, Fidds," she said, shooting him a reassuring smile. "D'ya mind telling me a bit about yourself?"

"N-no'm," Fidds stuttered. "I'm, uh, I'm ten. Just turned ten in August."

"Ten, huh? That's a good age."

"Yeah, but I don't like when my birthday is," Fidds confessed. "I mean, it's like I get the new school year for my birthday. That's a terrible present." He kicked a rock with his toe. "I'd rather my birthday be just after school gets out."

"Makes sense," Lilith said. "Whenever I get sad about my birthday I just be glad I have another one."

Fidds automatically glanced at her gimp leg.

Lilith caught the glimpse and gave him a half-nod in return. "Hard to get outta danger with this thing, ain't it?"

Fidds looked away, feeling awkward. "Y-yeah, I 'magine so," he mumbled.

"S'alright, young'un. Just makes what I'm 'bout to show you that much more special."

They walked in silence a little while longer. Fidds hated silence, but he also didn't want to talk any longer about Lilith's deformity. A black woman and a cripple? At this point, Fidds' mama would probably give him a lashing for talking to her!

But. . . she was nice to him. She seemed to understand him, which was more than Fidds could say for anyone else he knew. Sure, he didn't understand her, but he wanted to. He'd always been curious about machines and buildings and such — this was the first time he'd ever been so interested in a person.

He liked the feeling.

"Jus' 'round this here bend, and we'll be. . . ah, here it is."

They turned a corner, and Fidds was hit with a sudden rush of vertigo. The path just ended. Where there used to be land stretching off to the horizon, now it dropped off into nothing. Fidds heard a faint rush of water in the distance, one he couldn't remember hearing before this moment.

"Come look," Lilith urged. "Come 'n' see."

Fidds was pretty sure he could see plenty from here, thank you. He didn't want to go anywhere near that edge — he was not fond of heights.

Lilith moved to the edge. "C'mon, Fidds, ya gotta see! It's beautiful. You can see for miles."

Fidds whimpered.

She turned, raising an eyebrow. "You ain't scared of heights, is ya?"

"Um, how 'bout you just describe it to me?" He didn't really mean for it to come out as a question, but the pitch of his voice rose involuntarily as he spoke.

Lilith stared at him, then clicked her tongue, shuffling back to him. "No, that won't do. Ain't y'ever been flyin'?"

His eyes widened. "In an airplane?"

"No, in yo' dreams."

"Oh." He frowned in thought. "No."

"Well, that's what I'm showin' you." She took his hand and pulled him after her. At first he struggled, but her grip was so tight that he quickly forgot to be afraid — she would keep ahold of him, and he'd be safe. She tugged him along until he could see over the edge.

She was right. It was beautiful. And also terrifying.

The cliff stretched down some fifty feet, towering over a small river that wove through the trees below. The water was gentle in some places, but in others it crashed against boulders and flung white spray into the air. Everything but the river was obscured in foliage.

"Every week," Lilith said, and Fidds started, for he had forgotten anything else existed beside the river and the trees, "I dream of this cliff. I dream of running, of jumping off the cliff, of flying through the air."

She squeezed Fidds' hand, and he looked up at her. "Someday," she said, "I'll do it in reality. I'll jump off this here cliff and I be flyin' through the air. That's what the powers of the mind can do."

The sincerity in her eyes was so strong it nearly pushed Fidds off the cliff right then and there. "B-b-but you can't do it yet?"

"Not yet." She sighed but then smiled. "Someday. I'm getting there. I can teach you to fly, too."

"I-I don't think I, um, really want to fly," Fidds said. "But. . . but if it's possible. . . well, I'll just be happy knowin' that."

"It is possible," Lilith promised. "I'm gonna get there. And you can do other amazing things with your dreams — don't hafta be flyin'."

She let go of Fidds' hand and laid her fingers on his shoulder, turning him to face her head-on. Fidds felt a momentary thrill of fear when he lost the grip of her hand, but she looked into his eyes, and he became mesmerized by her gaze. They stood there, alone on the bluff, as the river crashed faintly into the rocks below.

"Do you want to learn, Fiddleford?" asked Lilith. "Do you want to harness your dreams?"

He felt a pit in his stomach. Even at his age, he could tell that whatever he chose now would alter the course of his life forever.

Logically, he knew what he should say. He knew he should leave and never talk to Lilith again. He knew he should go home and go to school and be a good boy.

But that wasn't what he wanted. He spoke before his sense of obedience could stop him.

"Yes," he said. "Yes, I do."