My father owned a gigantic Victorian-style house in the 1600 block of Eighth Street in Portsmouth. I was watching a scene in a bedroom on the ground floor of the house. A black-haired Mexican fellow was talking with a boy (about 13 years old) who had come into the bedroom. The Mexican pulled out some cocaine and made about 10 lines on one of the steps of some stairs in the room. I had the feeling that the boy was the son of my mother in law, Paz.

When the Mexican began snorting the cocaine, I felt as if I were in the room instead of him, snorting the cocaine. The boy also snorted some. We then picked up some of the cocaine which looked like little cigarettes and started smoking it. I asked the boy if he had smoked any with other people in this neighborhood, which was rather rough. He didn't say, but I had the feeling he had. I told him this was the last time I was going to smoke any. He said he also intended to quit. I thought if he were serious about quitting, he would have to stop hanging around with some of the other rough characters in this neighborhood.

After we finished smoking, I felt good, but I was becoming sleepy. I was thinking I had spent quite a bit of money on the cocaine and I wondered why I bought the stuff if it was only going to put me to sleep. Finally I fell asleep.

When I awoke in the morning, I stood up and looked at the door of my room. The door had an eye and needle type lock, but when the door was closed, a gap of about 10 centimeters remained so someone could possibly stick a hand inside and open the door. I didn't feel comfortable sleeping in here again without the door being locked.

As I opened the door to examine it, I saw a fellow (about 25 years old) in the stairway outside the door. He startled me at first, but slowly I realized he was living in one of the rooms on the second floor. We talked for a while until I finally felt comfortable with him and I invited him into my room. We sat down and continued talking.

Suddenly it occurred to me that I should buy this house and move in here. The house must have had 25-30 rooms, as well as a gigantic attic where I could store things. I could fix up the whole house. I had never thought I would want to move to Portsmouth, but suddenly moving here seemed like the perfect thing to do. I was somewhat worried about the neighborhood because I had some nice artwork (including some bronze statues). I could install an alarm system. I knew of people who lived in bad neighborhoods and had nice things in their homes. I thought I could protect the house. If I needed extra money, I could even rent out some of the rooms upstairs.

The fellow stayed with me as we walked from the front of the house to the kitchen in the back. On the way we passed through two intervening rooms. I looked at the wooden floors and I thought how good the house would look if I were to install new wooden floors.

From the large kitchen we walked down into the basement. Sitting in the basement was a large round metal shelf with three tiers on it. It was filled with brand new comic books. Some comics had as many as 20 copies of the same comic book. I asked the fellow if he knew who the comics belonged to and he said they belonged to someone who had lived here before and had left them here. I looked the comics over and decided if the fellow who owned them wasn't going to return, I would keep them.

The basement was gigantic. Over to the side were some elaborate wooden work benches. I thought I could convert the basement into a work area for me. There was a large furnace and there were some chutes for trash, so the trash would go into a bin outside and would not need to be carried upstairs. Somehow, the back of the basement was on the ground level. I also noticed some large oval metal gears. I couldn't figure out the purpose of the gears.

I told the fellow that this house must have been an elaborate mansion at one time. The more I thought about it, the more certain I was that I wanted to buy this house and fix it up. I knew my father wouldn't give me the house - I would have to buy it from him. But if I fixed up the house, it would be great.

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