Dream of: 23 October 1997 (2) "Heaven In A Few Minutes"

I was in an upraised beach-front building, staring through wide windows over the beach far below me. I had expected to see an enticing clean beach; instead, the water line was polluted with tons of trash. Huge waves carried in more and more of the debris, thoroughly covering the entire beach area. A desolate scene. Even the sand was an ugly dark brown, unpalatable.

Carolina and I had come to this spot, hoping to enjoy the beach and swim in the ocean, but that hope now seemed crushed. Cars were even in the water, roiled up on the shore by the waves. I noticed a Lincoln Continental and three other older model cars. People must have junked the cars and simply driven them into the ocean. I wondered if such cars caused any damage to the ocean environment when they rusted away.

A bulldozer showed up and began moving down the beach, pushing the debris in front of it, even the cars.

As I looked out over the ocean and the breaking waves, I began having a fantasy. I began imagining my brother Chris and me in a helicopter (the interior of which seemed like a car), flying out over the ocean, swooping and diving above the waters. Chris (about 14 years old) was sitting on the seat next to me.

At times the fantasy was so real, I completely forgot I was just making it up, and it seemed as if I were actually in the helicopter. I began wondering what would happen if we were to crash into the water. Chris, of course, because of his muscular dystrophy, wouldn't be able to swim. If possible I would have to try to save him. I would have to put my arm around his neck and shoulders, and pull him through the water. I would tell him to take deep breaths, when we bobbed up above the water, and to hold his breath, when we bobbed under the water.

What if Chris were too heavy for me? What if the helicopter turned over on its side and began sinking, and if water began surging through the open window. I wouldn't be able to pull Chris out through the rushing water. I could just imagine us both being up to our necks in water inside the helicopter. I would know I would have to abandon Chris. I would have to tell him I was leaving him. I would also probably tell him something like he would be in heaven in a few minutes, to try to assuage his fears. Then I would have to leave him there to drown.

As the fantasy continued, the helicopter crashed and sunk, and I managed to pull Chris from it. I had him under my arm as I swam toward shore. However, when I reached the shore, I found the shoreline wasn't a beach, but a high straight wall rising out of the water. I hollered for help, but no one answered. I paddled along the side of the wall, finally reaching the end of it. Now I found myself swimming in front of a much lower wall, a wall so low I was actually able to climb up on top of it.

I saw a woman with four or five children, walking toward me along the top of the wall. I thought she might help me, but she didn't. And then I noticed many other people sitting and watching me. They seemed to be in bleachers which came right down to the edge of the sea wall, as if they were watching a performance. When I finally succeeded in pulling Chris up, and I stood up, the people began applauding me. In my most disdainfully sarcastic voice, I thanked them for all the help which they had offered me. I began walking past them, through the bleachers, and finally exited at the back of the bleachers.

As I finally walked past the bleachers, my fantasy had ended, and Chris was no longer with me. I was back to reality, thinking I needed to get back to where Carolina was. I knew it was Saturday morning, around 9:30. I passed through a crowded area filled with small shops. It wasn't a mall, but somewhat resembled a mall. It looked as if almost anything could be purchased there. I noticed a cosmetics stand where women could have the cosmetics applied to them.

I walked on through the area, and by the time I was outside, I had the feeling I had been drinking some alcohol. I was still carrying a large white bowl with a straw in it, a bowl which had apparently contained some of the drinks. It seemed I had started out with just a couple drinks, and I hadn't planned to drink any more, but finally I had ended up drinking several more drinks. This method of drinking seemed to have formed into a reoccurring pattern with me. Usually once a week I would start off just planning to have a couple drinks, but after I would take the two drinks, I would have some overwhelming need to have more drinks. The last drinks would be so powerful, and I would have such a need for them, it almost seemed as if I was having a sexual orgasm when I drank them. However, I now wondered if I really did need those extra drinks.

When I walked out of the shop area, I found myself in a residential area, near the house where Carolina and I were staying. Only one more house stood between me and the white house where Carolina was waiting for me. I knew an old man, whom I had never met, lived in the intervening house. I thought he might not appreciate my walking across his yard, but I was in a hurry, and I didn't think he would say anything. So I hurried across.

I was anxious to see Carolina. I wasn't even sure she would be out of bed yet. It seemed we had been having an argument when I had left her, and I wanted to patch things up.

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