Dream of: 09 December 1997 "God Dreams"

Birdie was with me on a large river boat, one of the old paddle-wheel types, floating on the Ohio River near Portsmouth. We were lying in a bed next to each other in a large interior room filled with other beds and people lying on them.

While we had been on board the boat, I had remembered that over the years I had typed up numerous dreams which I had had about the Ohio River. Some of these typed-up dreams had somehow ended up at the bottom of the river, scattered around on the river floor. While I had been on the boat, I had dived to the bottom of the river and retrieved the dreams. Now that I had recovered the dreams, I was lying on the bed, reviewing the 20-30 undamaged pages.

As I flipped through the dreams, I noticed the word "God" appeared several times in one dream. The word grabbed my attention, because I had recently been assembling all my dreams in which the word "God" had occurred so I could compile a book of my "God" dreams. Here was another dream which I had forgotten which I could now add to my book.

As I perused the dream, with my head lying on the pillow, I suddenly heard someone talking as if on a telephone. The sound seemed to be emanating from my pillow. The voice startled me so much, I woke and I realized everything which had just happened to me had been a dream. I was still in the same room, Birdie was still with me, and the room was still filled with beds and people. But we weren't on a boat. Instead we were actually in a cheap hotel on Front Street, close to the Ohio River, in Portsmouth. I also realized one of the voices which I was hearing through my pillow belonged to my father.

I could tell my father was having a conversation with someone, but I was unsure my father would be able to hear me if I spoke. I quietly uttered a few words to him. When he answered, I quickly tried to explain the situation to him, that I hadn't called him, that somehow I had simply been connected to the line.

Now that my father was on the line, I told him I desperately needed his help. I had the frightening foreboding that Birdie (who also in some ways resembled Carolina) and I were in danger. It was very late at night, and I didn't know any of the other people in this room. I didn't even know exactly where I was. I told my father I was on Front Street in a hotel which had the word "Blue" in its name, but I didn't know the exact name of the hotel. I pleaded with him to drive down to Front Street and pick us up. When he said he would come, I told him Birdie and I would be waiting for him in front of the hotel – he only needed to drive along the street. Then he hung up.

Since I knew it would take my father a few minutes to drive down to Front Street, I was unsure whether Birdie and I should wait inside or go outside. Since I was becoming increasingly frightened and worried about waiting inside, I finally decided we would be safer if we walked outside. So Birdie and I both stood up and slipped out the door as quietly as possible.

Once outside, I saw that the name of the intersecting street where the hotel was located was "Blue Street." So that was where I had come up with the word "blue." I hoped my father would be able to figure it out.

No sooner were we on the street than two tough-looking thugs followed us out of the hotel and began menacing us. I backed away, sensing they intended to rob us. Since I was carrying some money, as soon as I saw a chance, I dashed off and left Birdie alone with the hoodlums. I wasn't worried about her because even though it was late at night, many other people were walking the street. If the muggers tried to bother her, she only needed to scream to draw attention to herself. But had I stayed with her, I didn't think I would have been able to prevent the thugs from stealing my billfold from my back pocket.

Once I was far enough away from the hoods, I pulled the billfold from my pocket, removed the bills (about $200), and quickly stuck the money inside my shorts, right on top of my pubic hairs. If the thugs caught me, they might not search there.

I only ran a short ways further before reaching a hill which I quickly began climbing. Along the way up the hill I picked up a long stick leaning against a tree. I clenched the stick, thinking I might need it later to defend myself. Once I had toiled to the top of the hill, and started down the other side, I found a number of boys also climbing down over the huge gray boulders on the hillside. The boys also had long sticks which they were using to help them climb. I followed the boys down the dangerous craggy rocks, realizing that one false step could result in serious injury or death. By moving carefully and slowly, however, I was able to reach the bottom.

I was beginning to feel guilty about having abandoned Birdie. What a craven act, to have run off and left her while she was being threatened! Even if it were true that she could shout for help to all the people who were around her, I shouldn't have simply abandoned her that way.

Now that I had descended the other side of the hill, I was in a position to return to Birdie and sneak up on the two hoods from behind. If I gingerly approached the thugs from the rear, maybe I could cudgel them in the back with my stick. I even began having a little fantasy of what I could do if my father were to show up before I reached the hoods. He might be able to give me a gun, and I could sneak up on the hoods with the gun. I might even stick the gun in the back of my pants, and then walk up as if I were unarmed. Suddenly, when the thugs weren't expecting it, I could reach behind my back and pull out the gun.

But I was unsure I would actually shoot anyone. Now that I thought back on it, it even seemed as if one of the hoods had been in a wheelchair. I doubted I would shoot someone who couldn't even walk.

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