Dream of: 06 January 1999 "Bloody Hand"

I had set up an office in the Gallia County Farmhouse. I had been doing some legal work for Wheat, who had employed me to work on some immigration matters for him. I had put off doing a couple of assignments until the last minute; but now I had completed the work and I was relieved to be done with it.

I was also relieved to know I would no longer be working for Wheat, but instead I would be working for my real boss, Robert DeNiro, who was also Wheat's boss. I had never met DeNiro personally, but I knew he was an important and powerful man, and I was glad I would be working directly for him. I mentioned to someone in the living room (where I was standing) that I thought I had seen every one of DeNiro's movies. When the person asked me if I had seen the movie "B.J.," I realized I hadn't seen that particular movie. However, I had heard that "B.J." was a recent boxing movie made by DeNiro, and I was looking forward to seeing it.

As I looked out the picture windows on the front of the living room, I could see DeNiro pulling up in a car outside. He was alone in the car. I couldn't see him well, but I noticed he was dressed in black. I was a bit intimidated by the thought of meeting him, and I wondered what I would say. As I pondered, I walked out onto the new front section which my father had recently added to the House, and I found another actor standing there – James Woods.

I was rather awed by Woods' presence and I didn't know whether I should speak to him. He looked to be in the prime of life and seemed strong and healthy. I wondered what it must be like to be so famous that people recognized you everywhere you went. In a way, it must be difficult to deal with so much fame. But it must be exciting also.

As I stood on the front porch, I glanced down below the House toward Symmes Creek (which flows past the House about fifty meters away). About half way between the House and the Creek was a strange sight: someone had constructed what appeared to be a walking bridge which crossed a steep section of the bank between the House and the Creek. The bridge was most peculiar because it appeared to be constructed of thin transparent blue plastic. Clearly it wasn't strong enough to hold much weight. Nevertheless, several children were walking along the bridge, swaying back and forth.

Suddenly, almost without notice, a young girl fell from the bridge. Since the ground below the bridge was out of my sight, I couldn't see where she landed. At first, I thought her fall was nothing to worry about. However, gradually it occurred to me that she might have been seriously injured, and the more I thought about it, the more convinced I became that she must be in terrible trouble. I finally left the front porch and raced down the hill, searching for the fallen girl.

Finding her gave me a shock. Indeed, she was badly injured, lying on her back, not moving. She was only about 15 centimeters long, no bigger than the palm of my hand. I picked up her legs, which were dangling on a rock, and I tried to straighten them out. However, I was afraid to move her. I stood back up for a moment and screamed to the people in the house, "Ambulance! Ambulance!" I saw someone hurry into the House and I knew they would call for an ambulance. However, we were so far out in the country, and it would take so long for anyone to reach us, I held little hope the ambulance would arrive in time.

Moreover, as I bent back over the girl, I realized that it might already be too late, that she might already be dead. I reflected that this would be the second time someone had died here on the Farm – someone else had died here long ago.

Only now did I notice all the blood under the girl – a profuse amount of blood for such a small body. When I held up my right hand, from where I had touched her, I saw it also was dripping with her blood. I starred at my bloody hand, uncertain how to get the blood off me.

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