Dream of: 24 September 1993 "Jack Pane"
Carolinaand I had just walked into a movie theater and we were looking for seats. The theater was fairly crowded, but I finally saw a couple good seats close to the front. We walked down the aisle and crossed in front of the screen, which was high enough above our heads so we didn't get in the way of the picture. We walked back up a few rows in the next aisle to the seat I had seen, just in time to see someone else take it. Discouraged, I looked around for other seats. I saw some, but they were right behind a tall fellow who would block the screen.
Suddenly I heard a telephone ring. That seemed curious because we were in a theater. I saw a fellow stand up, go back a few rows and answer a telephone. I considered taking his seat, because it was a good one. But since I thought he was coming back, I didn't take it.
When Carolina saw a single seat in the next row and sat down alone in it, I sat down in one of the seats I saw. Carolina was behind me and a few seats over, but at least both of us could see.
I was in the kitchen of a two-story brick house inGallipolis. Several other people, including Carolina, were in the house with me. The house belonged to Carolina and me, and we had been living in it for a while. It is probably 50 years old, but we had fixed it up quite nicely. But now I was quite sad. Somebody noticed and asked me why. I explained that I was going to have to go back to Texas for a while. I still had unfinished business there, and I had been living between Texas and Gallipolis for a while. But I didn't know it was going to make me so sad to have to return to Texas. I just wanted to stay in Gallipolis.
I was outside the house looking at its old red bricks, at how well they fit together. I really didn't want to leave.
After walking alone for a while on the streets of Gallipolis, I had entered a small building, where a fellow who was leaving invited me to stay for a while until he returned. He explained that the building belonged to yet another man. He left and I looked over the place. It was just one small room cluttered up with a wide assortment of junk. On one side of the room was what appeared to be a rather large closet which I peered into. I looked up and noticed some shelves above my head which had several antique chairs on them. Also on the wall were a number of old clocks in wooden cases. Some appeared to be cuckoo clocks, and in fact, I could see the little cuckoo in one. It had some red paint on it. I could see some motion in at least three clocks, so they apparently were working. In the room was also a piece of wooden furniture with an intricate design carved in its top. Obviously whoever lived here had tried to collect some antiques, but hadn't been very good at it.
I felt as if I needed to urinate, but there was no bathroom here. I did however see a small wash sink and I decided to urinate in it. When I began urinating in it, the sink immediately overflowed onto the floor. Obviously it didn't function. I hoped my urine wouldn't stink up the place.
I walked back into the main room just as someone came to an open window and looked in. I thought he must be the owner of the place. I walked to the window, extended my hand to the man and introduced myself.
I was in a small, obscure room in Gallipolis. A heavy-set black man (about 20 years old) walks in. He talked to someone behind a small door and ordered some "Jack Pane." I thought it was some kind of drug. I remembered that "Window Pane" had been the name of a particularly good type of acid. I asked the black man if he knew where I could buy some acid. He immediately seemed offended. I realized then that he wasn't buying acid, but probably some other type of drug, maybe speed. Obviously it was a mistake asking him.
I was walking down the streets of Gallipolis. I realized this was one of the most unusual cities I have ever seen. Many black people were on the street. They seemed almost like caricatures of people. Everything here seemed extraordinary and I realized how fortunate I was are to be here. After all, I had been born here, and there must have been some reason for that. It appeared this was the place I needed to be.
I had reached a small white house, and I remembered that an old woman whom I knew lived in the house. I hadn't seen her in a long time and I thought I would stop and visit her. But first I picked up a string on the sidewalk and pulled it up. It was buried under the ground next to the sidewalk and ran perpendicular along the sidewalk. When I picked it up, it pulled up the grass in a straight line along the sidewalk, thus cutting it back from the sidewalk.
Suddenly I saw the old woman had stepped out onto the cement, roofless porch. I hoped she didn't think I was damaging her grass. I rushed up to her and put my arms around her. I felt so good to see her. She was small and frail and all her hair was white. I squeezed her tight against me.
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