I was floating down a river in a house boat, the interior of which resembled the front room and kitchen of the House in Patriot. About 10 people on the boat were sitting down eating dinner. Among them was Randle (a fellow law student). When the person serving the meal spilled something, Randle abruptly jumped up and said that since the person had spilled something, he (Randle) was going to have to kill the dog.

Randle walked over to a friendly mutt which was about two thirds of a meter long and tied to a chain. Randle reiterated that he was going to have to kill this dog. While Randle walked out of the room for a minute, the rest of us sat down in a circle and tried to decide what to do – we had no intention of letting Randle kill the dog.

After asking the others if I should let the dog off its chain, I turned it loose. The dog began playing friskily, and someone commented about how playful the dog was. While everyone was talking, I suggested that perhaps we should shoot Randle instead of the dog; but no one heard me and I didn't say anything else about it.

As we sat in a circle, the dog ran to a door and began scratching it, obviously wanting to be let out. Someone said something about the dog's chain being outside and that the dog wanted back on it. But I thought to myself that the dog probably didn't want back on the chain. More likely it wanted to find another dog with which to have sex.

As we sat in the circle, I came to realize I was in a large old two-story house where my uncle Liston and my aunt Jesse lived. The house was in a city and caddy-cornered to a large high school. Jesse and eight or nine of her children, including my first cousin Randy, were sitting with me in a circle of chairs. I sat and talked with them for awhile.

When everyone finally dispersed, Randy moved into the living room and sat down by himself on a couch. I sat down beside him and began talking with him. I was surprised to see him smoking a cigarette, because I hadn't known he smoked. The smoke came out of his mouth and nose. I asked him where he was living and he said he was living with someone named Chris. I asked who Chris was and he said she was his girlfriend. I replied, "I thought you were married."

He said he had moved out from his wife and in with Chris. But he said that at the moment his girlfriend Chris was living with his nephew near Cleveland and that he was living here with his mother. He told me Chris had formerly been married to a narcotics agent. Randy said he was also presently buying a car from a narcotics agent, and he mentioned something about the agent being involved in buying some dry ice. I asked Randy if he were a narcotics agent and he said he wasn't. He just happened to be in contact with a couple narcotics agents at the moment.

Randy and I sat down on a bed and began talking about his brother, my first cousin Alan. I asked him if Alan had divorced and Randy said he thought Alan had divorced once and then remarried. I thought how I had never been divorced, even though I had had several serious relationships with different women and then separated from them.

In a way I felt good because I felt clean in front of Randy, who seemed somewhat dirty, sitting there smoking his cigarettes. He had let his life become fouled up. He seemed to wonder whether I thought something was wrong with him; I didn't. It was just part of life. He was going through a different stage at the moment and perhaps he would snap out of it. I had already gone through that stage and had snapped out of it.

I walked outside where I found a large tree in the back yard next to a small garage. Boards forming steps had been nailed onto the tree. I began climbing up the steps all the way to the top of the tree. I touched one of the top branches, which appeared to be all right. But then I saw it was broken, apparently by the wind.

I could see the large school nearby and thought, "Well that's good. Since there are about ten children in the Halley family, they could all go to school there."

Another house was to my left and from where I was I could see into the top floor of the house. I saw a couple children. One appeared to be retarded, but the other looked normal. They were just sitting inside. Quite a bit of clutter was also in the house.

I climbed down and went back inside the Halley house, wanting to talk with someone there. Encountering a woman, I asked her where Randy was. When I had left, Randy had told me that he was feeling ill and that he was going to take some medicine and lie down. When she told me Randy was in the bathroom lying down, I said, "Bathroom? You mean bedroom, don't you?"

She replied, "No. The bathroom."

I walked into the toilet, where I saw some catalogs lying on the floor beside a large bathtub. I thought about looking through them to see pictures of women in the lingerie section. But I thought other people were around and I didn't want to do that in front of them.

The bathtub was filled to the rim and Randy was lying in it with all his clothes on, under the water, motionless. I thought, "Well he's dead. He's drowned."

There was no movement; his face was purplish. A few bubbles were rising from his mouth. I didn't know what to do. I knew the woman was still in the other room. Finally I reached down and pulled Randy up out of the water. Shaking him, I realized he was still alive. He woke up and asked me what had happened; I said, "You were lying completely under the water down at the bottom."

He said, "Well I usually float on top."

I replied, "Well you weren't this time. You were down at the bottom. I thought you had died. Your face was all purple."

He had a relieved look on his face. He had been close to drowning.