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Arturo didn't seem to wake up, so I tried the doorknob. It wasn't locked. I opened it slowly. He was lying on his back in bed, unconsciously clutching the blanket at his waist. His chest muscles kept tensing, and he twisted slightly from one side to the other. I could see him clearly, because moonlight was streaming in through his window. A fat gibbous moon hung low on the horizon.

I rushed to his side and grabbed his bare shoulders and shook him gently, still shouting his name. He awoke with a start and clutched at my biceps. He had strong hands. He stared at me without really seeing me. Then his eyes focused, and he relaxed. He didn't let go, though, so I didn't either.

"It's okay," I said quietly. "You were just having a nightmare."

"Thanks, man," he said, sounding shaken. "Sorry I woke you."

"No problemo," I said with a grin.

"Probe-blame-oh," he said, correcting my pronunciation. He released his grip on my arms.

I patted his shoulder and said, "Sleep well. Pleasant dreams this time."

...

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