Dream of: 31 March 1983 "On The Beach"

By mistake I went into a law class and sat down in a seat in the right corner of the front row (from the students' point of view). An overweight girl was sitting next to me. It was a special class being conducted by Featherston (a law school professor). Probably 40 students were in the room and all chairs were full. The class dealt with submission of special issues to jurors. Featherston proceeded to give a little exam. Everyone except me pulled out little papers. Featherston asked several questions. I was familiar with the kind of questions he was asking. Even though I hadn't been taking this class, I could probably come in here and take the test myself, since I had had practice court. Featherston asked three questions and the second question had three subparts. Finally he finished and went up to a black board and wrote the answers. The answers were a "G" or a "M." Everyone saw what the answers were and graded their own papers. Then they rose and went out to take a break. In the rear left corner of the room I saw Staggs. His hair was quite blond. It surprised me to see him there at the law school. I went over to Staggs and asked him what the "G" and "M" stood for. He said the "M" stood for "May." It meant "can." I said, "Well, the 'G' must stand for 'Gant' then."

I figured it meant "can't" and was probably a British word. I wanted to talk with Staggs. I asked him how he had been. I told him I was in my last quarter of law school. He was very stand-offish. He didn't seem to want to have anything to do with me. I thought that might have something to do with his wife Paula (a former high school schoolmate). Perhaps she didn't want him to associate with anyone. I wanted to talk with him and find out were he lived. But he wasn't friendly and so I walked out of the room.

I went out in front of the school and saw it was situated on a beach by the ocean. I looked at the small beach and thought about going into the water. About 20 meters out in the water was a small square pier. At the moment, the ocean was quite turbulent. Water was hitting the beach and spraying all about. I looked out over the water and saw three or four motorcycles partially submerged in the water. The water was almost up to the top of them. I wondered what they were doing out there. I also saw some motorcycles parked on the beach. I then saw a child go up and grab a small motorcycle on the beach and start out into the water on it.

He was obviously taking the motorcycles out into the water and dumping them there. But he hadn't gone more than 10 steps into the water with the motorcycle when several large fellows who were obviously part of a motorcycle gang ran out and grabbed him. Two of them held him while a third pulled out a knife. The one with the knife then slit a small collar which the boy had buttoned around his neck, and then proceeded to slit the boy's throat from the middle of his throat all the way almost to his right ear. But the cut wasn't very deep, probably only a half centimeter.

Then he slit his throat again in the same manner. I watched in amazement. I didn't know whether the fellow was going to kill the boy. But it appeared the fellow wasn't going to kill the boy, merely scar him. The fellow was a very rough looking fellow. He then looked up. I thought the boy had probably received what he deserved. The motorcycles guys then let the boy go and the boy walked back out of the water. He was bleeding, but not terribly hurt. He walked close to me and I continued looking at him. He then looked at me and asked me what I was looking at. All at once he pulled out a large gun. It was a handgun, but the black barrel was about a third of a meter long. He pointed it at me. I immediately reacted and began trying to wrest the gun from him. A few times the gun was pointed right at me and I thought if he would pull the trigger, I would be shot. But finally I managed to turn the gun around toward him, got my hand on the trigger and pulled it. But the gun just clicked a couple times. No bullets were in it. Finally I wrested the gun from the boy. I walked away and left the boy there.

Some policemen were standing nearby. I knew taking guns into the school wasn't permitted. But before I headed toward the school I noticed the gun had two barrels. One was on top of the other. The one on top kept bending upward as if it was made of rubber. I pushed it down. There were some small clips with which to hold it down. It sprung up again and I pushed it down again. Finally it stayed down.

I put the gun under my arm and headed back toward the school. In the hall was what appeared to be a police desk. I decided to try to check the gun in at the police desk. I walked up to a policeman and pulled out the gun. I told him I wanted to check the gun in. While I was doing that, Crabtree (a former acquaintance from Portsmouth) walked up. I began talking with him for a minute. The policeman said checking in the gun would cost six dollars. At first I ignored him and continued talking with Crabtree. All at once I said, "Six Dollars? Well, just forget it. Just give me my gun back."

But they said, "Well, we can't give it back to you until we get the six dollars."

I said, "Well no. I'm just going to go right back outside and not bring it in. Its my gun."

The policeman finally agreed to let me do that. I got the gun and Crabtree and I walked out. I asked Crabtree if he would keep the gun for me there outside while I walked back into the school. He said he would. But I mentioned that several motorcycles had been driven into the water. Crabtree had been driving a motorcycle and he suddenly became agitated and took off running toward the motorcycles. I hollered for him to wait because I needed him to hold my gun for me. But he was too excited and kept on running toward the water to see if his motorcycle had been driven into the water.

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