After leaving the room, I went to a large building where my father worked. The interior of the building seemed somewhat like a mall, except that it was much too old for a modern mall. A large, open, roofed area was in the center of the building and what appeared to be stores faced the open area. The stores were arranged in several stories, one above the other. Railings ran along the walkways in front of the stores so that one could stand behind the railings and gaze out over the interior area of the building.

I climbed to the third or fourth story and one store and there I encountered my father. I had brought him a present – a colored, neon light which I thought he would be able to put in the window of his store. Apparently most stores there had colored neon lights in their windows and apparently the stores competed with each other with their neon lights. When I presented the light to my father, he seemed happy to have received it.

Another man who looked as if he might have been a salesman stepped up and pointed to the neon lights in his windows. The lights were an advertisement which spelled the name a brand of cigarettes. It seemed a shame to me to waste the neon lights for something like that, but I didn't say anything.

After my father and I walked into the place where he worked, I quickly realized that the place was actually a church, that my father was a preacher and that many people were gathering for a service which was just about to begin. After I found a place in a pew, the services commenced. Several activities took place, which seemed quite artificial and superficial to me. My father didn't do any preaching until right at the end, and basically all he did then was dismiss the congregation.

As I was preparing to walk out, I met again with my father and I also encountered Mary Biester (an attractive Dallas female attorney, a bit younger than I). She was standing next to my father and I quickly gathered that she had recently begun working for him. She and I didn't have a chance to speak, although I definitely wanted to talk with her. I was surprised she was working for my father and I wondered if she were making a mistake by doing so. However, I myself was even considering the possibility of working for my father, even though I had definite reservations about the prospects. I thought I would probably have time later to talk with Biester about the situation there.

I walked outside and boarded an extremely fancy, black sports car which belonged to my father. The car was obviously very powerful and my sister (probably in her early 20s) was driving it. She seemed to have much more of a reckless air about her than usual. My crippled brother Chris was also in the car.

My sister began driving and quickly picked up speed. I became alarmed and I hoped she would slow down. To my chagrin, however, she stepped on the gas. Within seconds it looked as if we were going over 100 miles an hour. We were approaching a corner of a street where she would have to turn and we appeared to be nearing a cliff which overlooked the ocean. If she didn't turn we would surely fly off the high cliff and plummet into the ocean.

Showing no sign of slowing down, my sister raced toward the corner. Obviously we weren't going to make the curve. I closed my eyes and dread overcame me as I felt us turn the corner and plummet into the air. I didn't open my eyes, but I sensed certain doom. I was obviously alarmed, but the inevitability of the impending crash allowed me some degree of tranquility.

Finally I felt that the car had stopped moving and I opened my eyes. I opened the car door and stepped out. I couldn't explain how it had happened, but we were parked on a street and we hadn't crashed. I immediately lifted Chris from the car (since he had muscular dystrophy, he couldn't walk). What amazed me was that he was so light. He was very small (about 20 centimeters long), rigid like a piece of wood, and only seemed to weigh about as much as a few sheets of paper.

When my father stepped up, I immediately told him neither Chris nor I were going to get back in that car as long as my sister was driving: either my father or I was going to have to drive the car. My sister made no movement as if she were going to get out. I certainly wasn't going to get back in.

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