While visiting Portsmouth, I stopped by the two-story house where my great-aunt Dorothy was living. The house was in the same area of town where she used to live, but this house was on a north/south street rather than an east/west street. I had previously undertaken some yard work for Dorothy, and after I had finished, I had stored the yard tools back inside the house. So even though Dorothy wasn't at home, I felt it was permissible for me to enter the house.

I walked through the unlocked front door. I only stayed a few moments before I turned to leave. Just as I shut the door behind me, I realized that when I had done the yard work, I had left an upright vacuum cleaner sitting outside in the yard, and that I needed to carry it back into the house. But now the front door was locked and I didn't know how I was going to get back inside.

I walked out into the yard and began examining the vacuum cleaner. Suddenly, a rough-looking character (about 30 years old) with black hair, walked out of the house. When he walked right up to me, I recalled that Dorothy sometimes took on boarders, and I figured he must be one. He spoke to me, and I asked him if he would let me back into the house. He seemed to know me, but he asked me who I was. I told him I was Dorothy's son; but then I corrected myself and I told him that I was Dorothy's nephew.

He finally seemed to recognize me and as he pulled out a key to let me in, he told me he used to know me. When he spoke, his voice was so low, I could hardly understand him. I asked him to repeat what he had said. He lay down on the grass on his back and continued talking. I still couldn't hear him well, but I heard him say something about drugs, and I concluded that he must be someone I had known as a teenager, and that I might have at one time sold some drugs to him.

The thought crossed my mind that he might be able to give me some marijuana. I hadn't smoked any pot in such a long time, I would like to have some, but I didn't ask him for any. He finally stood back up and together we headed toward the house. As he pulled the keys out of his pocket, he also extracted a couple packs of cigarettes. He asked me if I wanted one, a "Half and Half" brand. I said, "No," and I added that I hardly ever smoked anymore.

He unlocked the back door and we walked into the house. I told him I had been there once before, long ago, when Dorothy had first bought the house. I walked through the house, looking around. The interior was tidy and neat, rather quaint-looking; but the atmosphere seemed a bit peculiar because Christmas decorations, mostly red, bedecked everything.

I walked into the bedroom and began looking at some pictures sitting on a dresser. All the pictures were a bit strange because they weren't in frames, but were cut in relief and standing up on top of little wooden bases with slits in them to hold the pictures. I wondered if Dorothy might have a picture of me. I saw a picture of my father which showed him sitting in a bed with another person sitting right in front of him. The other person was smoking a pipe. At first I thought I might be the other person in the picture; but when I looked closer, I saw the person was my mother. I also saw a picture of my sister, but I didn't see a picture of me anywhere. I wanted to find a picture of me so I could point it out to the fellow who had let me in so he could see that I was someone important in Dorothy's life, and that I therefore had a right to be there.

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