I was walking down a street near Portsmouth High School near where Herman's grocery store used to be. Carolina was sitting on the Waller Street side of the building. Nearby was sitting a black fellow. As I walked up, I noticed the black fellow was holding a small Uzi machine gun. I stopped and when another black fellow with a gun walked up, I realized we were in serious trouble. I didn't know what was going to happen, but the denouement would obviously be serious. There was no way to escape.

***

The two black men and I were walking down Eighth Street, just on the other side of the high school. They didn't seem concerned about what I was doing, so I slipped around the corner and managed to escape from them.

***

I was standing on Waller Street, closer to the school. My father was nearby, talking on the phone with my mother. I heard my mother ask my father if he were going to tell me about Birdie. Something had happened to Birdie. When my father hung up, I asked him what he and my mother had been talking about. He hesitated, then said Birdie had apparently been confronted by a couple black men. I told him I already knew about it, and that I knew she had escaped, so the incident was nothing to worry about.

***

I had gone into a classroom in a school and had sat down at one of the long tables in the room. A professor was sitting at the middle of one of the tables. I was rather nervous because I thought we were going to have an essay test. About 30 students were in the room. It was actually a report that each student was supposed to have made. I had prepared my report, even though it wasn't due for another week. Normally I waited until the last minute to prepare this type of thing, but this one I had prepared early. But now I realized preparing the report early hadn't done much good, because I was thinking about re-doing it. I wanted to put so much into the report. Thus I was very nervous.

Some small glasses of pink champagne had been served. I picked up a glass and began drinking. Only after I had begun drinking did I reflect that I was no longer drinking alcohol; but I drank it anyway. It felt cool and refreshing and made me feel so good. I thought the drinking would cause a problem; but at the same time it cleared out my head and I no longer felt skittish. I was feeling quite good.

When I finished the champagne, I turned around and looked at the professor, who was sitting behind me. The professor was talking about a European war, perhaps World War I. I began feeling voluble, and thought of speaking up. I thought of bringing up the incident where I had earlier been accosted by the black fellows, and how wars were similar to that. I would explain that it was simply human nature which caused wars. The causes of individual wars could be examined, but actually wars were caused by human nature; men were destined to fight over and over. I thought this would make a good statement. But still I hesitated to begin talking in class, unsure it would be appropriate.

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