The Ghetto Dream [4]

I am now separate from Alex. He says something about how safely we crashed. We pass by the enormous river of darkness. Some very poor-looking kids are playing on the banks of a shadowy river. Alex and I just sort of stand there for a second. Then we talk about how we have to do this group project with Paul, the other member of the group. Paul apparently lives in the paperclip neighborhood. Alex then says he's assigned to the "Reeves Park" segment of the project. He then takes off his beanie to reveal colorful green beanie that says Reeves Park on it, sure enough. He tells me that I'm supposed to go to Paul's house; that's my segment. Still, me and Alex both go to Paul's house.

Paul's house is essentially my friend John's house. It is now nighttime, and we walk up to the home. Without knocking, we walk right in and it's utter chaos in Paul's home. There are gangsters, druggies, children, and big scary men just sort of mulling about. Me and Alex are quite frightened. It's also very smoky and there are bright lights hanging from the ceiling. As we gather around this very small wooden table in the center of the large room, we notice a very large man with a tank top on. He's got tattoos and oven mitts on, and he's carrying a big pot. Alex says to me, "That's Paul's grandmom", in a hushed voice. He might have been wearing a hairnet, I'm not sure. Either way, we sort of introduce ourselves and Mr. Grandmom shakes our hands. It's the worst handshake in the world. I'm not even sure he touched my hand. Anyways, we sit down and ready ourselves for dinner, and Paul is around the table but we don't talk to him. Once again, it's a very small wooden table. The ceiling light is just a light-bulb, and it casts light over the table. The table is right next to large window that is purely black - it is nighttime. It looks over the river. 

The pot of some sort of food is in the middle of the small table. We have paper plates. As we're about to eat, an unspeakably loud and sharp bang shakes us to our bones. It came from right outside the window, and we immediately know it to be a gunshot. We knew that we were in the ghetto, so we sort of expected it. The other people in the room are nonchalant. I'm under the table. My arms are spread out in front of me on the carpet, but I move them hastily as Mr. Grandmom stomps on by. He goes to the door next to the window and whips it open. He yells things at the shooter like, "OH YEAH WE NEED MORE OF THAT. THAT'S WE NEED, IS MORE GUN SHOOTING AND VIOLENCE. WE NEED MORE DEAD BABIES AND DEATH IN THIS NEIGHBORHOOD". He calls the police and has a very odd conversation with a policeman. "Yes, I know, and I'm sure you're a good man" - "Yeah, you know, I'm just trying to survive out here" - "Haha, yep. Just gas money and my two daughters". 

I realize he has two toddler daughters in cribs in the corner of the room. Some strange teenager with long hair seems to sign to us (he's deaf) that it is okay to eat and that we are safe. We all get back to the table and prepare to eat dinner. Big man Grandmom takes the pot and begins scooping glazed chicken tenders onto our plates. Except my plate is now a stack of two dark blue coffee mugs. I clumsily move the top one away so he can put some chicken tenders into my bottom mug. He says to us, "Now, you boys are gonna say that this is the best chicken you've ever had; that's what you're gonna say, alright?"


THE END

The Fat Lady Dream [3]

Now I'm in the paperclip neighborhood. One of the first houses in the loop is a small, white house with a large, white stone porch with a black railing around the perimeter. Sitting in a cheap plastic chair is an enormous woman wearing a thin floral-printed gown. She is profoundly unattractive and has short grey hair like a substitute teacher. She has a couple of other big ladies sitting in her front yard. Beside her on the porch is a small table with some things on it. All I remember about the table was that there was a very large smartphone on it with a gaudy white case around it. For some stupid reason, I stole it when she went back into the house. 

The street following down the paperclip loop was packed with parked cars and was very cramped. Down the middle were about 3 cars, all empty. I pass along them, and enter the very last one. It's a long, dull red car from maybe 1998. I listen to voice memos on the gaudy phone of the lady. There are several messages detailing failed relationships and unfaithful boyfriends. I find this hilarious. I imagine the ugly lady speaking into the phone, bragging about her men and her exploits. I figure then that I should return the phone. But how?

I think maybe I should drive the car past her home and throw the phone at her. Then I decide to just put the phone on top of her actual car. So I walk over and do this. Then, I go back to the red car and turn it on with magic. How foolish to put a car in the middle of the road where someone can just turn it on and drive away. Suddenly I am Alex, a member of my group project. As Alex I drive the car out of the loop and out into an intersection like an idiot, because I can't drive. I whip around down the main road and drift back into the opposite entrance to the loop. As I speed down the other side of the loop, I lose control and crash quite softly into a cushy group of pine trees. 

[stay tuned for the next segment of the dream]

The Bus Dream [2]

It seems that the entire family is now on a yellow school bus. Not just the Wilson's, but also the Matzik's and probably the Geist's somewhere in the back. We're travelling somewhere, presumably back home. My sister Beth is in high spirits, and is dancing around in the aisle of the bus with a cousin of her's from the Matzik family. Everyone else is sort of gloomy and annoyed by this. However, I think to myself that it's good for her to be so energetic, as it might inspire everyone else to be a little more upbeat. There's babies and there's mothers everywhere, some which I don't even know. Beth dances on. 

The bus makes it to Phoenixville, and around Morris Park we drop off some people who are definitely not part of our family, as they are African Americans. In the dream, the houses across from Morris Park are very different from the actual neighborhood. It's a paper clip-shaped loop with an end that opens out into an enormous, dark river. I leave the bus and enter this neighborhood, where everyone seems to be an old, obese woman. 

[stay tuned for the next segment of the dream]

The Nana Dream [1]

My brother and I are riding around in his car in a place that looks like New Jersey. There's a large bay with an enormous bridge above it, which leads to lands unknown. After driving around underneath the bridge past shops and things, I suggest we find a way onto the bridge, except there's two bridges. One is really quite long and is perpendicular to the one we need to get onto. My brother scolds me for directing him to the wrong one. So we finally pass onto the bridge we're meant to be on. There are several lanes, traffic cones, and other dividing obstacles on the bridge. As we pick up speed, I notice my grandmother on the farthest edge of the bridge in nothing but a nightgown. She's using a walker to slowly pass along the edge of the bridge, away from the cars. I panic as I realize we were supposed to keep her in the car with us and take her home. But it's too late, we're far across the bridge. 

For whatever reason, me and Michael keep on driving home. We pass under bridges and move along freeways. We see Nana along the road's edge several times, and we remark how fast she is for an elderly woman using a walker. Later on, my father and my aunt take me in a car to find Nana. Passing through a dream-manipulated and very sunny Valley Forge, we keep our eyes peeled. As we pass over a small but sharp hill, I exclaim, "There she is!" as I look behind us. She's in the center of the road, using her walker and walking up the hill. Then I realize it's a woman with a dog on a leash. Then I realize that my realization is wrong and it is actually Nana. We go up to her, and she's surprisingly not out of breath or angry or anything. In fact, she doesn't say anything. We lead her to an adjacent parking lot, where her forest green Toyota Corolla is waiting for her. She gets in the car without a word, as we all sort of stare at her anxiously. I worry for her health after that long journey, but she's completely fine.

[stay tuned for the next segment of the dream]