I stood up from the bed where I had been lying and looked at my father (probably in his mid 50s) sitting on another bed close to mine: he looked awful! Since he wasn't wearing a shirt, I could see his back and chest were covered by a red scaly bumpy rash. Quite obese, he seemed utterly despondent, as if he didn't know how to deal with his skin problem. I walked over to him and hugged him, trying to give him some comfort. I then spoke to my mother, lying on another bed in the room, and apprised her of my father's condition. She didn't seem overly concerned. I counseled my father that he should lie back down and rest for a while. After he lay back down on his back, I also lay down on my bed on my back.

I lay thinking: had I ever made love with my mother? I had memories of having done so, but were the memories real or memories of dreams? I was sure I had dreamed of having made love with my mother; but had I done so in real life?

With cloudy mind I dozed. When I awoke, I kicked off some audio cassette tapes which were lying on the bed near my feet, and I looked over at my father. Perhaps 20 video cassettes, in their boxes, were piled around his head. He appeared to have stacked some of the tapes together so they formed a little arch in the air.

I stood up from my bed and looked around. My mother was already on her feet. She looked young and vigorous, thin and sleek, probably in her late 20s. Wearing a jogging outfit, she whizzed past me to a set of glass sliding doors, opened one and slipped outside. I walked over to the glass doors and looked out onto a sandy beach crowded with swimmers and sunbathers. Where were we? I didn't remember having come to a beach; I thought I had gone to sleep somewhere around Fort Worth. Had we driven down to the Gulf coast last night and I had forgotten?

As I looked around the room, I became even more confused. I thought when I had fallen asleep, only my father and mother had been in the room with me; but now perhaps 20-30 people were scattered around the room, many lying on their beds, others lolling around. A couple attractive black-haired Hispanic girls (probably 16-17 years old) crawled out of a bunk bed close to me. They appeared to be preparing to go out to the beach. Where was I? I slowly concluded I was in some kind of dormitory room at a beach; but where?

A fellow who seemed to sense my confusion stepped up to me. He was probably in his late 20s and apparently worked there. He quietly began leading me around the room. We passed from the dormitory into a crowded restaurant area. As we walked down a row of booths and tables, I hoped maybe this fellow could clarify my situation.

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