She once had a dream about Cullen when he was on a camping trip. She was “viewing” it as if she were in one of the trees when she saw Cullen’s sleeve get singed on the campfire. It startled her to the point where she shot up in bed. She checked the clock. It was only a quarter after eleven. Maybe he was still awake. She had to call to see if he was all right. She hoped there was cell service where he was doing his rugged man thing.

An alarmed voice answered. “Luna? Is everything all right?” Cullen knew Luna wouldn’t track him down unless it was an emergency.

“Cul, are you all right?” Luna asked in return.

“Yeah. Fine. What’s going on?” he asked in a very heightened manner.

“I had a dream. You singed your sleeve on the fire. Are you OK?”

Cullen froze for a moment, then he looked at his sleeve. “Yes but, but, how? . . . how . . . did you know?”

“I told you, I had a dream.” Luna gave a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know what you’re taking before you go to bed, but either figure out a way to make millions or stop doing it. You’re freaking me out.”

“You should be used to it by now.” She snickered.

“Yeah, but it generally doesn’t involve me.”

“OK. What-ev. You be careful. I need to get a good night’s sleep. Sweet dreams.” Luna clicked off the phone.

Luna smiled, thinking about that incident. Maybe she would focus her thoughts on Gaines while drifting off to sleep. During one of her classes at the New School for Social Research, a discussion had come up about soul traveling. The professor explained they should think of it like Bluetooth or WiFi. You can’t see it, but you know it’s there, and you’re sharing the same frequency. It sure sounded like an episode of Star Trek, but they used to think the world was flat at one time, too.

Luna realized that instead of relaxing, she was getting energized and knew she had to turn down the kilohertz.

She went to her bookshelf and rummaged through her collection of New Age books. She found the one she had used in her class from several years ago, written by Albert Taylor, a former NASA aeronautical engineer. If he didn’t give it creds, then who could? She’d remember to quote him next time the subject came up. She laughed. Uh, maybe not. Not quoting, just not ever bringing it up. It was spooky even for her.