Dream of: 05 February 1996 "Calendar Girl"
Carolina and I were lying in bed together when I woke up in the morning. I had barely opened my eyes when I heard someone walk into the room. A beautiful black-haired woman (probably in her mid 20s) paraded about the place. Slowly memories began to return. The black-haired woman was one of Carolina's friends; Carolina and I had spent the night in the woman's apartment. The woman had been away all night, but now she had obviously returned.
The woman walked over to the bed, laid a magazine on the bed for Carolina, and said something about Carolina's calendar pictures appearing in the magazines. I was unsure what the woman was talking about; so I picked up the magazine and began flipping through it. The magazine was designed for black people, which seemed natural enough to me, since Carolina was a light-skinned black. The black-haired woman, however, seemed white, although possibly partially black.
I kept flipping through the pages until finally my eyes riveted on some pictures spread out all over two pages. There before me were pictures of Carolina in varying states of nudity. I flipped the page and saw two more pages full of nude pictures of Carolina. I quickly realized twelve pictures had been taken for a calendar and had now also been published in the magazine.
I felt a swelter of differing emotions: I should be indignant and angry, and I was to some extent; however, at the same time I found the pictures to be quite erotic, and I could feel myself becoming aroused as I closely perused them. I harshly confronted Carolina, who was still lying beside me, berating her for such conduct. Now all our acquaintances would have seen her naked. How could she have done such a thing? My one consolation was that the magazine was a little-known publication and was read almost exclusively by the black population; maybe people we knew would never come across it.
I needed to get up, take a shower and get ready to go to work. I was working as a house painter and I had to go and paint a room white. But as I lay here looking around the room, I realized some other things: the apartment in which we were lying was in New Boston, and this was an apartment which Birdie used to occupy many years ago. Now this setting seemed even more peculiar to me: here I was, many years later, in the same apartment I had been in with Birdie many years ago. This type of coincidence had happened to me before – I would be in the same house or place under different circumstances many years later. But this time I felt my being here was more than just coincidence and that it had a special meaning; however I didn't know what that special meaning was.
In the meantime the black-haired woman had sat down on the edge of the bed and was talking to Carolina. I was ready to get up, but since I was nude under the covers, I hesitated to stand up in front of the woman. However, the thought of being nude in front of the woman further aroused me, and gradually I began peeling the cover away from me, until I was exposed. In fact, the woman's arm was so close to me, I moved a little so my erect penis barely touched her arm. The woman didn't recoil, and indeed, I had the distinct impression she rather enjoyed it. I was definitely enjoying my dalliance, and I was just about to press a little harder, when abruptly the door opened and someone walked in – a man, probably also in his mid-twenties. He was either the boyfriend or the husband of the woman.
I felt ridiculous and vulnerable, not knowing how the man would react if he saw me nude in front of the woman. But either he didn't see me, or my presence didn't bother him, because he didn't say anything. I took the opportunity to quickly scramble from the bed and dash to the bathroom; I told Carolina to follow me there.
Once I was in the bathroom and Carolina came in, I realized she had left the magazine lying on the bed. I didn't want the man to see it, and through clenched teeth I snarled at her, "Bring me the magazine."
My motive for wanting her to retrieve the magazine wasn't actually completely clear. I didn't care for the man seeing it; actually, I just wanted to look more at the erotic pictures of Carolina.
When Carolina walked back out of the room, I looked at the bathtub. It had a peculiar shape, like two old-fashioned bathtubs sitting side by side. But one tub was higher than the other and there was no wall between them; it looked as if a person could sit up on the second tub and let his or her feet dangle in the first tub. It looked quite comfortable, and I was just about to get in. But I hesitated. I hadn't asked the woman for permission to take a bath here. And after all I hardly knew her. But then I decided it would be all right. If she was going to let us sleep in her apartment, surely she must know we would need to take a bath.
