Wish's voice brought me up out of a sound sleep. My eyes popped open, and I looked around, confused at first.

"Oh, Mama, I'm in fear for my life from the long arm of the law!"

My first week of marriage to Wish had been full of surprises; one of the first things I discovered was that she talked in her sleep---but that the person doing the talking wasn't her conscious mind. Somehow, there were times when her unconscious mind took control of her body while her conscious mind was attending to its daily rest-and-recharge process, and it tended to do odd things with her body. So far it hadn't gotten her up and walked her around, or anything, thankfully; mostly it just talked to me.

Most people think of the subconscious mind and the unconscious mind as being the same thing, but they're not; the subconscious mind is the animal in us---violent, uninhibited, conscienceless, uncontrolled; the unconscious mind is a kind of borderland between the subconscious and the conscious minds---fully aware, fully cognizant, like the conscious mind, but with full access to the incredible storehouse of information contained in the subconscious mind---or that's contained elsewhere in time and space, and that the subconscious mind has some way of tapping into. It's essentially the same person the conscious mind is, but it has capabilities the conscious mind's usually not even aware of.

Wish's unconscious mind was just as sweet and gentle and loving as her conscious mind---and it was friendly, and talkative, and helpful. Some of our conversations were beyond amazing; if this phenomenon had been sprung on me without any backgrounding in the paranormal, I probably would have been tempted to ship her off to a psychotherapist---but with what I already knew of things of this general nature, it did little more than make me feel odd, at times.

So, when Wish's unconscious mind woke me up, that night, I just rolled over to see what was on the menu this time around. My bride lay to my right, flat on her back; the bedside clock said it was three twenty-one in the morning; by the light of the clock radio I could see that her eyes were closed, her expression was calm---and she was singing.

"The jig is up, the news is out, they've finally found me. The renegade who had it made retrieved for a bounty!"

I laughed to myself, taking care not to make enough noise to jar her awake. Sonuvvagun! My wife not only talks in her sleep, but she sings Styx in it too! And she has a good voice, no less!

I'd never heard Wish sing before; she was shy about her singing voice for some reason, so she never let me hear her sing---not in the shower, not along with the band, not with the radio or stereo. Up to this point I'd had no idea that she even had a singing voice, much less a good one!

I rolled up onto my side and stroked her hair gently. "Are you through singing, Mrs. Rain?"

"Ohh---?" Her voice was soft, distant; it sounded almost as if it were being run through an electronic filter to make it sound ethereal; fairylike. Her tone was one of vague startlement. "Was I doing that out loud? I'm sorry; I didn't mean to disturb you."

I chuckled. "It's all right. Are you awake or asleep, right now?"

She hesitated, eyes flickering back and forth beneath her eyelids as though she were looking around, checking out her current status. Finally, she murmured, "Asleep. Do you have questions for me, like last time?"

I shook my head, although I'm not sure why I bothered, since her eyes were closed. It didn't seem to make any difference; she appeared to be able to detect the motion anyway. Or maybe she was listening in on my thoughts; I almost never shield my mind around her, and I certainly wasn't doing it then. She made a little face, as if disappointed that she wasn't to be given the opportunity to teach or inform me in some manner, then switched subjects.

"Was I on key?"

I chuckled again. "You were beautiful! I just wish you'd sing like that when you're awake; the guys in the band would probably want you for a singer if they knew!"

She shook her head. "No---if I sing when I'm awake, I sound like an elk in heat; my insecurities cause my vocal chords to tighten up too much for me to sing decently. I can only sing well when I'm asleep."

I started to snap my fingers in disappointment, but caught myself at the last instant; I didn't want the noise jarring her awake. "Blast! That's just not fair!"

And then another thought hit me, and I ventured, "Um---can you leave a message with your conscious mind to stop being so self-conscious about your singing? If you do it, maybe it'll listen and give it a try where me talking to it wouldn't do any good."

"Ohh---" She sounded as if she were thinking the idea over. Finally, she sighed and responded, "---okay. Tell me about this when I'm awake, please?"

I kissed her on the forehead and murmured, "Sure thing." Then I rolled over and settled back down to get some more sleep, marveling over the fact that I could actually hold a conversation with my wife while she slept; I resisted an urge to open one eye and peer around the room to see if Rod Serling was narrating something to a camera, somewhere. Nahh...that would be too silly...

Just as I reached the borderline of sleep, one last thought occurred to me: Maybe I should ask her to try this same thing with me, sometime. Who knows what's lurking in my unconscious, ready to spout something profound, or witty, or...?

I never did get to finish that thought; I was out cold before I got that far.