Dream of: 11 September 1996 "Carey"

I was riding in a car with several members of my family, a car which my father was driving. We had stopped for a moment, and as I looked out the window, I was surprised to see standing not far from the car, talking on a phone, Birdie (not more than 25 years old). She had long raven-black hair. I hadn't seen Birdie for many years, and I knew at once that I must go over to her.

By the time I had descended from the car and hurried over to her, Birdie had hung up the phone and was heading toward a car which was waiting for her. When I saw a man sitting in the front seat of the car and waiting for her, a flood of thoughts and memories passed through my mind.

I remembered all too well how my relationship with Birdie had ended. After going together for almost four years, we had broken up, and Birdie had soon started dating another fellow. However she had still been seeing me at the same time, and during the course of events, she had become pregnant. Her dilemma was that she hadn't been completely sure to whom the child belonged. She privately told me it was mine, but she also told the other fellow it was his, and he ended up marrying her.

I had been happy to be relieved of the responsibility. However, after the child had been born – a girl named Brandi – I had seen the child several times during her first years, and I couldn't help but think she was probably mine. My dilemma was that although I had pleaded with Birdie to have a blood test so we could be certain, she had preferred to leave me in doubt, and had adamantly refused to have a blood test. The last time I had seen Birdie, many years ago, she had indicated she wouldn't see me any more, since she feared when Brandi was old enough I would myself approach Brandi and ask her to have a blood test.

So now, seeing Birdie again, I was anxious to talk with her once again about the blood test, especially since I thought Brandi herself was in the car. But I didn't think her name was Brandi: I thought her name was "Carey." As Birdie headed for her car, it appeared clear she didn't want to discuss the matter. It also appeared that the man in the driver's seat was probably her husband, and that if I pursued the matter, we would probably have a confrontation. So I watched helplessly as Birdie jumped into the car and it sped away.

Only now did I realize I wasn't in a good section of town, and that a muscular-looking ruffian had approached me. I had a pocketful of credit cards – I even had an American Express card right in my hand – and I didn't want them to be ripped off. I looked back toward my father's car, and saw that a large semi-truck was between me and the car. I hollered out anyway, "Dad! Dad!" I thought even if my father didn't hear me, perhaps my two pet Dalmatians, also in the car, would hear and come running to my rescue. But they were such pussies, I could hardly expect them to help me. I could just imagine them running playfully toward me, having no idea of how to help me if I were really in trouble.

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