Dream of:06 August 1995 "He's God"
I was in a house where quite a few people, including some of my relatives, were living. It seemed as if the house belonged to my grandmother Leacy, who was also somewhere in the house.
Something had been bothering me for a while, but I had just not been able to place what it was. Suddenly the answer struck me: I had periodically been hearing a voice which originated from somewhere in the house. It was peculiar how I had become aware of the voice. Apparently I had heard the voice several times before, but it had been almost like a voice in a dream, and I had put it out of my memory. The voice would drone on for a while somewhere in the background of my full consciousness, and when it would stop, I would forget about it.
But now the memories of the voice flooded back, and I fully realized how odd it was to have heard this voice. I also placed the source of the voice: my crippled uncle George, the uncle who had been afflicted with polio from an early age and who throughout his life could only get around by scooting on the floor. I was certainly amazed to know that it was George's voice which I was now hearing. But most startling of all was what George had been saying: he had been reciting passages from the Bible in Greek.
Although I didn't hear the voice at the moment, I knew George must still be somewhere in the house, and I wanted to find him. I shuffled through the rooms on the first floor, looking for him. In the center of the house was a stairway which was shut off by a closed door. The five or six rooms on the first floor were all clustered around the stairway. As I walked from room to room, I saw other people sitting around, but I didn't see George anywhere.
Ultimately I enlisted the aid of someone else: a black woman (probably in her late 40s) who was living in the house and who appeared to be a maid. I told her I had heard George talking somewhere in the house and asked her to help me find him. When she suggested he might be on one of the three phones, I told her I had already checked all three phones, but that we could check again. We walked from room to room, picking up and listening to the phones, but heard nothing.
Finally I entered the dining room where six or seven people were sitting around a dining table. When I stepped to the head of the table and asked if anyone had heard George speaking Greek, I was met by muffled silence. I couldn't discern what the people at the table were thinking, but I detected a wisp of derision, as if they thought what I was saying was ridiculous. When I heard someone speak up from the next room, I turned and walked in there.
In the next room stood a stout woman (probably in her 40s) whose name was Rosa. When Rosa (a bit reluctantly) admitted she had previously heard George speaking Greek in the house, I became excited. Rosa's corroboration proved George was somewhere in the house. What I had experienced hadn't been my imagination or a distorted memory after all – the voice was real. Unfortunately, however, as I was relishing these thoughts, Rosa began to shrink. When I looked at her again she was only a few centimeters tall. And then she seemed to disappear altogether.
I returned to the dining room, where a man who resembled the actor John Goodman was standing by the table. Goodman, like Rosa, also knew about George. Now the full significance of George's speaking Greek somewhere in the house began to dawn on me. I turned to the man who resembled Goodman and said, "Do you know how difficult it is to learn Greek?"
I was trying to say that it simply wasn't possible for George to have learned Greek. He had never even learned to read or write. And there was no one to teach him. The only explanation was that higher forces were at work here. Referring to George, I said to the man, "He's God."
The idea that George was God was somewhat overwhelming. I wasn't completely convinced of such; this was simply the best explanation I could formulate to describe George's identity. Clearly George wasn't the normal George, but a being of a different sort, a being from another place with higher powers. The man leaned over with both hands on the dark wood of the table, lowered his head and whispered, "I know."
Only one place remained where George could be: upstairs. I walked over to the closed doorway, opened the door and started up the stairs. What would I do if I found George up there? Would I put my arms around him and hug him? I had never done that before, and I now somewhat regretted that fact. But would now be the time to start?
Just before I reached the top of the stairs, I thought I detected a movement in the room at the top. But when I reached the room, no one was there. However I thought I sensed something in one corner of the room where a green blanket was hanging. I walked over to the blanket, and sure enough, I could see someone's feet, wearing leather sandals, under the hanging blanket. Just as I pulled the blanket away, an indistinct form shuffled through a door right beside the blanket into an area which resembled a mansard attic.
I followed into the attic, which was lit. Among other objects stood a clothes rack, which seemed to be moving slightly. Venturing over to the clothes rack, I gingerly pulled back some clothes with my hands, and uncovered a person standing behind them.
A rather peculiar-looking man was staring straight back at me. He was only about a meter and a half tall and dressed in a long green military shirt or jacket which fell to his ankles. It was difficult to estimate his age – he looked young, but appeared to have white hair. He was wearing eyeglasses and his head seemed abnormally square.
When I quickly asked him who he was, he said his name was "High Hika." After engaging him in a series of questions, I learned that he had been living here in the upstairs of the house without anyone knowing. The story of how he had arrived here wasn't completely clear, but it was evident that he didn't have permission to be here, and that no one in the house knew about his presence.
I obviously couldn't allow him to stay. I directed him to step out of the attic and he complied without resistance. Although the man was clearly a human being, something in the way he walked and the way his clothes hung on him resembled the space alien, E.T., from the movie "E.T.."
Once he was out in the room, I picked him up in my arms and carried him like a baby. He turned out to be shorter than I had thought, less than a meter long and not difficult to handle. When I walked downstairs and passed by the dining room, I could see people in there looking at me incredulously, as if now I had done something else crazy by bringing a baby down from the attic.
But I only had one thing in mind: I wanted to locate my grandmother Leacy and show her what I had discovered upstairs. I thought she would be the proper person to decide what to do with him. Unable to see my grandmother anywhere, I began yelling, "Grandma! Grandma!"
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