Dream of: 22 March 1982 "Tobacco Grower's Gun"

I had just arrived on a college campus, and while I was walking around carrying a couple of books, I ran into an old female schoolmate from junior high and high school, King. I hadn't seen King in probably 11-12 years. I was so glad to see her, I walked up to her and put my arms around her. I told her I had just arrived in town and I still didn't have any place to stay. An older fellow with a small gray goatee was standing close to her; I thought he might be her husband. He walked up to me and began talking. It was soon quite evident that he wanted me to leave, but I continued talking with him and somehow was able to get rid of him.

As King and I walked away from campus, I looked up into the sky, which was dark blue almost black with some white clouds in it. A jet was flying across the sky. I looked more closely at the clouds, which seemed to resemble a map of Europe. I was sad, because I wanted to go to Europe and I told King I would like to go to Europe. I thought that I might go and that I might even ask King to go with me, even though I doubted she would want to go.

We continued walking with our arms around each other. At one point we put our cheeks next to each other. I was ecstatic to see someone I knew there.

We went to a house where my mother and I were living. My mother was upstairs in bed; King and I got into bed downstairs which almost seemed as if it were in the basement. As we lay there talking, I thought I heard my mother coming down the stairs. When I got out of bed and walked to the door, my mother said, "Is there somebody in there with you?"

I answered, "Yea, there's some girl. That's OK. Come on in."

King (wearing a long pink nightgown which fell to her ankles) got out of bed and stood beside me.  My mother (also wearing a long nightgown which fell to her ankles) walked in and said, "Oh, I thought it was the little blonde-haired girl in here with you."

Apparently a little blonde-haired girl was staying with my mother. I said, "No, it's Birdie."

I wasn't referring to my old girlfriend Birdie, but to King, whose name I actually thought was Birdie. My mother said, "Hello, Birdie."

When I asked my mother about the little blonde-haired girl, my mother responded, "Yea, she's disappeared."

My mother told me a story about how earlier in the evening she had heard someone prowling around outside. She had thought a man was outside and had called the police. After the police had arrived and been unable to find anyone, they had departed.

I looked out of the house, which was abutting a street which seemed to be Scioto Trail in Portsmouth in the vicinity of the Stag Bar. I watched a little white car which almost looked like half an egg pass by and pull into the parking lot. Kay was in the car. Another car driven by a man followed Kay into the parking lot.

When my mother also looked outside and saw Kay and the man, she became upset and said, "Oh no, they're going to come for the gun. They're going to come for the gun."

I having earlier had a conversation with Kay in which the subject of the "tobacco grower's gun" had come up. I knew "the tobacco grower" was my father. From what my mother was now saying, I inferred my mother had a gun in the house which belonged to my father. My mother apparently thought Kay and the man outside were going to try to take the gun.

Concluding that we were in danger, I grabbed a large shotgun and tried to load it. The shotgun had two chambers, one of which already had a shell in it. I pulled out some other rather peculiar-looking shells which basically looked like shotgun shells, except they were quite short. Instead of being loaded with pellets, the shells were loaded with wires. As I struggled to load the shells into the shotgun, two white men and a very black man walked into the room.

The black man was wearing a green army shirt. He was a few centimeters shorter than I, but muscular. When the three of them walked toward me, I pointed the gun at them and pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. I realized the safety was on, but I couldn't figure out where the safety was. Obviously the black man was going to take the gun away from me. I was afraid he was going to kill everyone in the house.

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