Vondra Devoir: Dream Wanderer- A Children's Tale

Every night at exactly 8 o’clock, Mrs. Devoir poured herself a cup of tea, looked at the kitchen clock, and softly told her daughter, “It’s that time, Vonnie.” Every night, at exactly 8 o’clock, 8-year-old Vondra Devoir asked her mother, “What time?” even though she always knew the reply. “It’s time to board the Sleepytime Express to Dreamland.” So every night, at exactly 8:01, Vonnie quickly walked to her room, put on her orange nightgown, brushed her long brown hair and big white teeth, kissed her mother goodnight, and climbed into her orange bed sheets in her orange bed. But every night was the same. The Sleepytime Express never arrived and Vondra Devoir never, ever, visited Dreamland. Sometimes she spent the whole night in bed awake waiting for a whistle or even the rumbling of an approaching train. Then morning would come and Vonnie would climb out of the orange bed sheets of her orange bed, feeling as if she was the only one in the world who missed the train to Dreamland. At school, she overheard the stories of other children who visited Dreamland. They would say, “And then, I was riding a huge dinosaur that crushed buildings when he walked,” or, “It was a whole world made out of candy!” Vondra Devoir did not talk or play with the other children in school. She sat in the back of the classroom, holding the orange crayon she carried everywhere, and drew pictures, read books, or just listened quietly. Vonnie had one friend, Hugo Salvare, and she would ask him about his dreams because he always had the most adventurous and wonderful things happen to him in Dreamland. Sometimes he was a brave knight who battled dragons and monsters, often in strange forests filled with weird sounds and obnoxious smells. Other times, he was a bird, flying all over the world over oceans and lands filled with odd creatures and marvelous cultures. Hugo always had a new story to tell and Vondra would come home from school wishing she too could dream. The neighborhood children would invite her to play games and share toys with them but Vonnie could do nothing but sit alone at the kitchen table, with her orange crayon, and read or draw until dinner. Every night, at exactly 6 o’clock, Mrs. Devoir would serve dinner and ask her daughter, “How was school today?” even though she always knew the reply. “It was fine.” Sometimes Mrs. Devoir would ask other questions such as, “Did they serve a tasty lunch?” or “Did you make any new friends?” Vondra always responded with a quiet, “No” and the two ate their dinner in silence.
Sometime in the middle of winter, the telephone rang at the Devoir home during dinner. Mrs. Devoir promptly answered.
“Hello?”
“Yes, this is Mrs. Devoir.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Saturday at 2 o’clock, you say?”
“I’m sure Vondra would be delighted.”
“Thank you, see you then.”

Before Mrs. Devoir could sit down again, Vondra asked very hastily, “Who was on the phone?” Mrs. Devoir replied, “That was Mr. Salvare, Hugo’s father. Hugo is having a birthday party on Saturday and would like you to come.” “ I am not going,” said Vondra. “But Vonnie, I’ve already said yes. I thought Hugo was your friend?” Vondra said nothing to her mother.
On Saturday, at exactly two o’clock in the afternoon, Vonnie and Mrs. Devoir rang the doorbell to the Salvare home. Vondra wore orange shoes, orange stockings, with an orange dress that had one pocket, which held her orange crayon, of course. She also carried an orange-wrapped present for Hugo. Mrs. Salvare answered the door, pushed Vondra into the party room, and led Mrs. Devoir into the kitchen with the adults. There were already many other children at the party who were running, squealing, and playing around in circles. Vondra stacked the orange present on top of the mountain of gifts for Hugo and then found a seat in the back of the room. Mrs. Salvare entered the doorway with a tray of freshly baked cookies. All of the children ran to take a cookie, except for Vondra Devoir. Mrs. Salvare saw this and quietly whispered something into Hugo’s ear. Hugo took two cookies and then walked across the room and sat right next to Vondra in the corner. “I’ll give you a cookie if you listen to the weirdest dream I’ve had yet.” Vondra took the cookie and said, “Tell me.” “Well, it was my birthday party, and it was exactly like it is now, except you were wearing an orange cape and orange hat with your orange dress. We were getting ready to play a game, but all of a sudden, a giant gift-eating ogre smashed through the door. He found us because he was hungry and smelled all of the presents. He had three big oozing eyes and razor sharp teeth. All of the other children screamed and ran away and we did not know what to do, but you took out your orange crayon, which had magical powers, and zapped the ogre over and over again until you defeated him and saved my party.” Vondra was shocked. “How could I have been in your dream if I have never boarded the Sleepytime Express or ever been to Dreamland?” Confused, Hugo looked sideways at Vondra, stood up, and shrugged, “I don’t know Vonnie, but that was the dream and you were in it. Did you ever think maybe you have had dreams before and you just do not remember it? Or maybe you spend so much time worrying about dreaming, that you never dream at all.” Vondra Devoir had never thought of that before, and if she had been to Dreamland, why has she forgotten?
That night, at exactly 8 o’clock, Mrs. Devoir poured herself a cup of tea and said, “It’s that time, Vonnie.” But for once, Vondra did not ask what time it was, but simply went to her bedroom. Instead of putting on her orange nightgown, she put on a blue one. She brushed her big white teeth but not her long brown hair. Instead of just kissing her mother goodnight, she also said, “I love you, Mom.” With tears in her eyes, Mrs. Devoir replied, “I love you too, my darling daughter.” That night Vondra Devoir did not keep her eyes and ears open waiting for the Sleepytime Express and oddly enough, that very night, Vondra Devoir heard a train whistle and felt her bed rumble as the Sleepytime Express approached.