I’m living in a house with RC and a buddy. My buddy and I are in school. In fact, we are in an accelerated academic program. We are learning about a particular aspect and era of early British history. We are both cocky and believe that we will be able to pass any exam simply by reading the material in the text book and reviewing a map of the area at the time. Our professor comes to our house to give us an oral exam. We set up around a coffee table in our living room area. My buddy and I sit next to each other on the couch. The professor sits across from us in a chair. He begins to ask us questions about the events we were supposed to have studied. I suddenly realize that I don’t know anywhere near enough about the history to be able to answer the questions our professor is going to ask us. I begin to get anxious. I hedge on the first question as does my buddy.
The professor tries to give us the benefit of the doubt and moves on to another question, one about a the name of a particular body of water near the southern end of the British mainland. I can’t recall the name of that particular body of water. My buddy can’t either. Our professor is beginning to realize that we are poorly prepared and he becomes angry with us. I feel foolish for being so cocky about my belief that the test would be easy. Then I’m in the same house with a mother, brother and sister. My brother messes with a portal to a demon reality. The portal is in the kitchen. A demon is able to reach through, grab my brother and pull him into the demon realm where he becomes trapped. My mother, sister and I are frantic and frightened. We desperately want to get him back. We have a shard from an incredibly sharp rock blade. It is flat and a bit thick in the middle and shaped like a very large claw. It’s black, possibly obsidian but holds an edge so well the merely handling it results in being cut. It is a very dangerous object but we know that is can be used to cut the demons away from my brother to free him from the demon realm. This is done by holding the shard, thrusting it through the portal and cutting the demons. I try to hold the shard, but even when I hold it gently, I receive various cuts to my hand. Finally I manage to strap the shard to a broom stick, making a pike and allowing me to thrust the shard through the portal without having to hold it. My sister sees this and makes her own pike with another shard she has found. She dances around with the make-shift pike. She looks tribal and powerful. I’m in the same house again but with two buddies who haven’t appeared in the dream up to this point. One is a woman, the other is a man. We are in a frantic race to find a set of powerful objects which we have to combine in a certain way, a ceremonial way. If we fail, something terrible will happen. The dream is full of tension and fear and stress at this point. There are others who are trying to trick us, distract us and generally prevent us from accomplishing our mission. They are evil. They are demons. We are in a terrible struggle. We have only a few of the objects we need. We are upstairs. I go partway down the front stairway of the house only to find that the bottom floor is flooded with fog three to four feet deep. I am very reluctant to go down into the fog. It looks very foreboding and ominous. One of the trickster demons is there. She flips a Pez dispenser into the fog in the living room. It briefly rests on top of the fog and then begins to sink down into it and is hidden from view. I realize in an instant that it is one of the power objects my friends and I need for the ritual. Still, I don’t want to dive into the fog to get it. My fear gets the best of me and I freeze. My buddy, who has proceeded down the back stairs of the house, dives into the fog and retrieves the object which is no longer a Pez dispenser but is something entirely different. I am kneeling on the living room floor. The fog is gone and I have all of the objects for the ritual. I know my friend is in another room of the house and he too has all of the objects. We each have a chance to succeed at the ritual. A powerful demon steps into the room with me and rests against the wall or sits comfortable in front of me. He is in the form of a man but I know that he is an evil demon. Now that I have all of the objects for the ritual, he relaxes and makes no attempt to harm me or distract me. It’s as if I’ve successfully navigated the phase of fear and trickery and now he, along with the rest of the demons, is going to give me a chance to complete the ritual without interruption. It’s is now a test of my ability to figure out how to perform the ritual. He is there simply to observe, even playing the role of a teacher giving a student a test. In an almost kindly act, he even flips me a small scrap of paper, saying that it is the final object I need to complete the ceremony. The objects I have include a small stick, a little bit larger and thicker than a toothpick. It is somewhat thicker at one end and more tapered at the other. I have a small object which is meant to like the stick on fire. Together, these two objects basically comprise a large match which I’m then to use to heat the bud of a plant. The plant bud is the third of the four objects I have. It is about an inch and a half in diameter and perhaps an inch tall. It is thick and somewhat heavy, like the inedible part of an artichoke just about the stem. It is wrapped around it’s circumference in wax paper. Finally, I have the small scrap of paper flipped to me by the demon standing in front of me. I use the burning object to light the tip of the small stick on fire. The demon encourages me to be careful, to make sure it doesn’t burn out because I now have no way of relighting it if it does. He smiles and I realize I’ve already made an error. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the small flame on the stick now that I’ve lit it. As it burns I do my best to keep it burning as I try to determine how to proceed. I turn the stick around and hold it in a downward position to keep it lit. But I’m running out of time and I don’t know what step to take next. The demon looks pleased at my predicament even as he encourages me. I suddenly realize that he is still not there to help me. He has simply switched tactics, acting falsely encouraging as a way to guide me into making mistakes. And he has succeeded. The flame on the stick burns out and I am left not knowing what to do next. The demon continues to encourage me to try anything. In my panic, I do. He convinces me that I can paint flames on the plant bud by putting the burnt end of the stick into a clump of orange stuff next to me on the floor and using it as paint on a brush. I follow his suggestion, falling into the trap of being deceived once again. As I’m vainly attempting to paint flames on the plant bud, the demon gives a little, condescending giggle and I realize that he has tricked me once again. I resolve to not fall into his trap again and, though I feel tremendous despair at this point, I begin to think through my options in a more logical fashion. I realize that as a child I had learned a way to create fire from water using common products found in most kitchens. I go to the kitchen in the house and begin working valiantly to recall my childhood experiment. I know I need water so I grab a glass and stick it under the facet in the sink. When I turn the knob on the sink, a flow of neon purple fluid runs into the glass I’m holding. I’m stunned for a moment and quickly realize that whatever the purple stuff is, it’s not what I need to make fire from water. I fall further into despair. Turning my focus away from my need from water, I try to recall the other elements I need. I realize that I need hydrogen to mix with the water. As I mentally work through the process of finding a source for the hydrogen, I realize that I’m thirsty. Without a thought, I put another glass under the faucet in the sink and turn the knob to get some water. Actual water flows into the glass from the faucet, and I turn off the flow and take a sip before I realize that I now have a glassful of the water I need to make fire from water. I’m shocked and, quite stupidly, I pour out the water and stick the glass undr the faucet again. When I turn the knob for water, the neon purple fluid flows into the glass and I realize that my conscious need for water for making fire is what is preventing me from getting water from the sink. The sink is working against me and only providing water for my need to drink. I fall further into despair realizing that I’ve dumped the water I need and now have no water for fire, no water to drink and no way to get the water now that the sink is on to my overriding need to get water to make fire. I’m not going to be able to trick the sink into giving me any more water. The sink has two sections and there is some water in the left section. The drain in that section is stopped up with a rag and some old spaghetti. I’m relieved when I see this. I have the water I need to make fire. My drive for perfection compels me to search the area around the sink for a drain stop to make sure the water doesn’t slowly leak through the rag and old spaghetti now keeping it in the sink. I find several and realize before I attempt to use any of them that all of them are designed to strain water to prevent the sink from getting clogged, not keep the water in the sink. Finally I’ve succeeded in thinking ahead enough to prevent myself from making another stupid mistake. I’m in a large SUV with RC. She is driving. We are at the top of a large hill in a somewhat rural area. We both know the way down the hill. It’s a dirt road with many twists and turns. As we approach it we see that the entire valley below us is filled with fog, very dense fog which reduces visibility to almost nothing. RC wants to make the attempt to drive down the hill anyway. She believes we will be fine. I am very much against making the effort. I feel the danger that the fog represents as being more than simply natural fog. Something more is at work here. Some force is trying to lure us into the dangerous choice of going down that treacherous road in the dense fog. I succeed in convincing RC that we should not make the attempt. I am walking down the same street on the top of the hill because my car is parked on a nearby street and I want to get something from it. The fog is still there but is less dense and now rises higher into the sky. I hear the sound of a gas-powered leaf blower nearby. As I continue walking to my car I see the man with the leaf blower. He is actually using the leaf blower to disperse the fog. The fog was intentionally placed there like it would be on a movie set and now this man with the leaf blower is clearing it away because that scene is done. I’m distressed to know that the fog was not natural, as I had suspected. I’m also relieved to know that RC and I made the right choice by not attempting the journey. I locate my car and find that the headlights are on. I know that I didn’t leave them on. Someone intentionally got into my car and turned them on in an effort to run down the battery so I couldn’t use my vehicle later. I’m quite distressed to know that someone is going to great lengths to make my helpless and to put me in harm’s way. I’m walking with RC along a street in Santa Monica. We are walking back to our apartment. Night has fallen but the streets are lined with street lamps so the darkness is not a concern. We cross a street at a light. There is a small group also crossing but from the other direction. A woman at the corner across from us yells to the small group crossing the street toward RC and myself. They turn around to respond to her. She is turned in profile to her left so we can see the right side of her. The right side of her sweatpants are sagging down, revealing her right hip and the top of her right thigh. She is gesturing frantically with her right hand but I’m not able to recognize (or perhaps recall) why or about what. RC and I reach the corner on which the woman is standing. RC is now pushing a stroller. It is empty. We turn left once we’ve made it to the corner and we walk less than halfway along the block at which point we reach the front door of our apartment. RC pushes the stroller up against the front bumper of a car parked by the curb in front of our apartment. I tell her it would be better to bring the stroller inside, that it will likely be stolen if she leaves it outside. She shrugs and leaves it where it is. I don’t push the matter and we go into the apartment. I feel sad to have arrived at the apartment. RC suggests we play a board game to pass the time. I’m not excited about the idea but can’t think of anything better to do so agree. We sit down to play “Battleship” or something like it and I feel a wave of sadness, despair and irritability as I realize that this is really all there is now. The dream ends. No one has commented on this article. |
