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dream sequence
Jan. 12th, 2006 06:00 amThis all took place in and around Lafayette, like we hadn't moved back to NOLA or something.
For the first part, we went to some church or school fair kind of thing in Broussard. That's a little community right near where we were living. It looked like Tracey was volunteering her time, and the kids and myself were meeting her there. We pulled up, and for some reason William Shatner was there. He said he used to film the original Star Trek episodes nearby. He even pointed out his trailer, which was, predictably, a FEMA trailer. So he goes off, walks inside it, and I can hear him calling the other actors from the show to tell them he's sitting in his old trailer.
So the four of us are still walking up the side of the road to get to Tracey. I see the entrance to the school up ahead, and Tracey is sitting at a table with a guy I went to high school with. Suddenly there are two more people I knew from high school, twins, one of which was married to the first guy. She's not really in real life, but in the dream I let it go. The first twin, Michelle, comes up and starts telling me about her new class she's teaching, where she details a very complicated journalism class. I was very impressed, and asked if that was part of the journalism program at UL. She blushed and said no, it was an extracurricular activity at our old school. Then the second twin comes up, Angelle, and asks to borrow my wallet. I oblige for some reason, and she starts furiously scribbling in a sketchpad, asking a question occasionally. I get excited, because I think some cool sketch is forthcoming. She turns the notebook over and the page is filled with a bunch of random words from the wallet, badly handwritten I might add. But then she pulls out a color drawing of a building that's obviously in New Orleans, and lo and behold I find a pic of the same building in my wallet. Tracey and marvel at the sketch for a moment.
And then the dream cuts.
The kids and I are over at my grandmother's house. We went outside. There was this kid that Vivian knew from her school, but he was such a little shit I couldn't believe it. He also had a huge-ass mean dog. My two youngest were as afraid as you can imagine, of both the kid and the pooch. Something happens, and the dog went after Viv. All the kids came inside. Soon the asshole kid comes, but we laid a trap. Tracey, or Vivian, knocks the dog out with a bat. The kid is left unguarded. I scoop him up, telling him what a little shit I think he is, and never come back to our house (even though it's not really our house). He goes outside and, what do you know, daddy is out there. So daddy comes up, surprised that junior is misbehaving, and would I let the dog out so they can all go. I thought we had killed the dog, but unfortunately we had not. I let the dog go and the three go to leave. I have a shotgun at this point. Or the other dad does. I don't remember.
Anyway, the guy goes to leave, but hesitates. He comes back and wants to make amends, be nice and not leave the scene with malice on both sides of the fence. The guy begins to tell a story of his life. Suddenly more people are around us, like it's a party. For some reason, now the dad is wearing a pastel suit like from Miami Vice or something. Definitely a mob looking choice. Or so I think in the dream. He's all nice, and during the telling of his humorous tale, his dad is there to embellish the details of their life in New Jersey. Everyone is basking in the glow of the storytelling. I'm still just mad.
The guys finishes and joke-telling ensues, making the rounds from person to person. Gwyneth Paltrow went to make a lame joke, one I had heard before, but she mangled the punchline. Everyone laughed uncontrollably, because, well, it was Gwyneth Paltrow. Then the "bad dad" turns to me, and says "Okay, your turn." I tell him I'm not interested, that I appreciate what he's doing, but to be honest I want him and his family the fuck out of there.
Then I hear the plane. It's a military jet, flying low. I even said that it was pretty damned low, and that I've seen planes go down before. It's rate of descent was far too fast. It zooms over our heads and goes to crash on the other side of the highway. I scream for everyone to take cover, which half try to scatter and do. There's no explosion though. I look at the broken jet, which suddenly takes off again, straight up in the air and right back down, but behind my grandmother's house. There's a tremendous fireball, and weapons firing off, missiles and bombs and whatnot. I'm covered up, shrouded in smoke.
I start screaming Tracey and Vivian and Grace and Robert. I hear no answer. I do it again and again and again in the pandemonium. Then I'm realizing I just spent the last minutes of their lives being angry and mad. I hear Grace respond and find someone carrying her on a pillow. I burst into tears and grab her, holding her tight, not finding any of the rest of them.
And I bolt upright in bed, ten minutes before the alarm goes off. Fucked up.
For the first part, we went to some church or school fair kind of thing in Broussard. That's a little community right near where we were living. It looked like Tracey was volunteering her time, and the kids and myself were meeting her there. We pulled up, and for some reason William Shatner was there. He said he used to film the original Star Trek episodes nearby. He even pointed out his trailer, which was, predictably, a FEMA trailer. So he goes off, walks inside it, and I can hear him calling the other actors from the show to tell them he's sitting in his old trailer.
So the four of us are still walking up the side of the road to get to Tracey. I see the entrance to the school up ahead, and Tracey is sitting at a table with a guy I went to high school with. Suddenly there are two more people I knew from high school, twins, one of which was married to the first guy. She's not really in real life, but in the dream I let it go. The first twin, Michelle, comes up and starts telling me about her new class she's teaching, where she details a very complicated journalism class. I was very impressed, and asked if that was part of the journalism program at UL. She blushed and said no, it was an extracurricular activity at our old school. Then the second twin comes up, Angelle, and asks to borrow my wallet. I oblige for some reason, and she starts furiously scribbling in a sketchpad, asking a question occasionally. I get excited, because I think some cool sketch is forthcoming. She turns the notebook over and the page is filled with a bunch of random words from the wallet, badly handwritten I might add. But then she pulls out a color drawing of a building that's obviously in New Orleans, and lo and behold I find a pic of the same building in my wallet. Tracey and marvel at the sketch for a moment.
And then the dream cuts.
The kids and I are over at my grandmother's house. We went outside. There was this kid that Vivian knew from her school, but he was such a little shit I couldn't believe it. He also had a huge-ass mean dog. My two youngest were as afraid as you can imagine, of both the kid and the pooch. Something happens, and the dog went after Viv. All the kids came inside. Soon the asshole kid comes, but we laid a trap. Tracey, or Vivian, knocks the dog out with a bat. The kid is left unguarded. I scoop him up, telling him what a little shit I think he is, and never come back to our house (even though it's not really our house). He goes outside and, what do you know, daddy is out there. So daddy comes up, surprised that junior is misbehaving, and would I let the dog out so they can all go. I thought we had killed the dog, but unfortunately we had not. I let the dog go and the three go to leave. I have a shotgun at this point. Or the other dad does. I don't remember.
Anyway, the guy goes to leave, but hesitates. He comes back and wants to make amends, be nice and not leave the scene with malice on both sides of the fence. The guy begins to tell a story of his life. Suddenly more people are around us, like it's a party. For some reason, now the dad is wearing a pastel suit like from Miami Vice or something. Definitely a mob looking choice. Or so I think in the dream. He's all nice, and during the telling of his humorous tale, his dad is there to embellish the details of their life in New Jersey. Everyone is basking in the glow of the storytelling. I'm still just mad.
The guys finishes and joke-telling ensues, making the rounds from person to person. Gwyneth Paltrow went to make a lame joke, one I had heard before, but she mangled the punchline. Everyone laughed uncontrollably, because, well, it was Gwyneth Paltrow. Then the "bad dad" turns to me, and says "Okay, your turn." I tell him I'm not interested, that I appreciate what he's doing, but to be honest I want him and his family the fuck out of there.
Then I hear the plane. It's a military jet, flying low. I even said that it was pretty damned low, and that I've seen planes go down before. It's rate of descent was far too fast. It zooms over our heads and goes to crash on the other side of the highway. I scream for everyone to take cover, which half try to scatter and do. There's no explosion though. I look at the broken jet, which suddenly takes off again, straight up in the air and right back down, but behind my grandmother's house. There's a tremendous fireball, and weapons firing off, missiles and bombs and whatnot. I'm covered up, shrouded in smoke.
I start screaming Tracey and Vivian and Grace and Robert. I hear no answer. I do it again and again and again in the pandemonium. Then I'm realizing I just spent the last minutes of their lives being angry and mad. I hear Grace respond and find someone carrying her on a pillow. I burst into tears and grab her, holding her tight, not finding any of the rest of them.
And I bolt upright in bed, ten minutes before the alarm goes off. Fucked up.
