Saturday, December 30, 2017
The Dream I Had on June 17, 2009
THE DREAM I HAD ON JUNE 17, 2009
Ten years ago I posted often on the Werewolf Cafe Forum. I faded away from the Forum, and my personal thread was dropped. Yesterday, however, I discovered a years-old "snapshot" of the Cafe on an archive site similar to the Wayback Machine. For some reason I described a bizarre -- but fun -- dream I had in June, 2009. Reading over it -- I think it's worth posting again!
Just to write something I'll outline the goofy dream I had last night. I was the tired-est (most tired?) I've been in a long time, staying up to 1:00 am to do homework and online-quizzes, and this night taking our accounting class's first harrowing timed test.
I went home, sat on the floor to put some books on the lowest bookshelf, and nearly fell asleep there. Barely made my way to the couch . . .
And I dreamed that I was some sort of petty thief, breaking into the main offices of a zoo to steal their take (I have no idea if that would be worth the trouble in real life). The zoo offices were an endless maze of corridors, offices, doors, and even the entrances to the back-sides of the animal enclosures. I had my swag, but I was totally lost.
Suddenly zookeepers or attendants came running down a hall. One seized me by the shoulders. "The White Tiger's escaped! Don't just stand there -- look for it! And whatever you do, DON'T TELL ANYBODY IT'S OUT or there'll be a panic!"
Then he ran on. I continued looking for a way out. I opened doors at random, and, wouldn't you know it, the white tiger was behind one. So I ran and slammed a few doors behind me.
I somehow ended up behind the animal enclosures. I opened a door and found a snow leopard's enclosure. For some reason (perhaps because a friend of mine identifies with snow leopards) I was totally unafraid of it.
I opened another door and stepped out into another enclosure that was dark and apparently deserted. I thought I could sneak out this way.
But then lights flashed on, and I saw that dozens of people lined the rail of the enclosure. And a loudspeaker announced, "And now, Zookeeper Smith presents the White Tiger Cubs!"
Sure enough, here came 4 or 5 white tiger cubs gamboling in from stage left. I held one up and people clapped. One weisenheimer in the audience asked, "Where's the cubs' mother?"
Fortunately, the snow leopard leapt into the compound. I stroked its fluffy fur and said, "Here she is!"
"That's not a tiger!" yelled the weisenheimer.
"Uh . . . They're adopted." (Seriously, I said this in my dream.)
This is longer than I thought, so I'll break it in two. So anyway I was rubbing the snow leopard's fluffy fur, when it crouched, head low in that feline about-to-pounce stance. You've seen zoo enclosures, with a mesa-like living area, then the deep gully or moat, then the wall and railing for the people. Well, this gully was only a few feet wide, and the railing was only a couple of feet high. No wonder the White Tiger escaped, I thought.
Now the snow leopard jumped out as well, and the crowd parted for it. I must have taken my faux role as zookeeper seriously, because I jumped out myself and ran after it.
I ran out the zoo gate and down the street. On my right a safari truck full of zoo personnel roared by, leaving me in their dust. On my left, Doc Savage, Man of Bronze, caught up with me and passed me. (I had just moved my Doc Savage paperbacks from one bookshelf to another -- oh, never mind.)
Suddenly it occurred to me: I had been trying to escape the zoo, myself. So I kept running . . . and veered off down another road.
Now another vehicle passed. This was a grimy old jeep full of the most cliched, typecast Southern rednecks you could imagine, wearing overalls and dirty T-shirts, their vehicle bristling with shotguns and rifles. One of these fine gentlemen looked back at me and yelled, "Lookie there -- another one of them long-haired hippie Commies!" Whereupon the jeep started in on a long U-turn.
This is the last chunk, really. Anyway, they plainly meant me, so I dashed down a side street while they were turning. The jeep was really slow, or I was faster now, because I managed to get by a few properties and jump under a long hedge before they turned the corner. I pulled myself through the hedge into a yard -- actually a muddy garden -- and I lay stomach down, parallel to the hedge.
But the jeep stopped beside that hedge and honked the horn. Then these bright outdoor lights flared on the eaves of the house sitting on the property.
"Hey, Bobby Ray! Fetch yore shotgun and come on!"
Somehow I had chosen the yard of one of the rednecks' cronies to hide in.
(Kind of odd: Usually my dreams take place in dim light. If I try to flip on a light, the bulb won't work. In fact, I'll do that in a dream to determine if I'm asleep or not. The zookeeper's truck, however, had blindingly bright lights. The redneck's headlights were dim and yellow, but the outdoor lights of the house were again blindingly bright. Go and figure.)
Anyway, the cliched rednecks were piling out of their jeep, and ol' Bobby Ray was opening his front door, no doubt with firepower of his own. With those glaring stadium lights, I couldn't imagine them missing me, down in the mud though I was.
Then, through the leaves and branches of the hedge, I saw the white tiger and the snow leopard padding up the street. They sent out a telepathic message: "Come with us."
I might have, but I was sure the gun-toting rednecks would see me. And the tiger was pretty fierce-looking. So I stayed in the mud.
The tiger stepped closer and snarled. "Come with us or I will have to drag you along!"
Well, I didn't want tiger fangs sinking into my arm. So I dragged myself back through the hedge and started down the street, flanked by the two big cats.
Then I woke up. I didn't say it was a story -- just an interesting dream!