The following morning Garrison awoke with heart palpitations, covered in sweat. Next to him was a snoring pajama-clad bulldog; apparently Macaroni the dog had tired of sneaking into Theo’s bed. Garrison stroked his soft head while racking his brain to remember what could have caused him to wake up with such anxiety. Obviously, his first line of thinking focused around water. Had he dreamt of being lost at sea, trapped in the eye of a hurricane, or simply seated near a pool? Garrison wasn’t sure exactly how to explain it, but this felt different. With Macaroni loyally at his feet, Garrison brushed his teeth, determined to let whatever he’d dreamed about go. He spat out the remaining bits of toothpaste and looked down at Macaroni. As Garrison peered into the brown sagging eyes of the semi-clothed dog, it came all at once. Garrison had dreamt of the end of the summer, when he was to return to his parents in Miami. Garrison had told his father that he was still afraid of water.
