I had jumped on a train, like a hobo, without paying. Somehow the train was traveling without an engine -- a boxcar was on the front. As we whizzed down the track, I had somehow ended up about ten meters in front of the boxcar, in midair. I was able to precariously sit there in midair. I rode along like that for a long while, until finally I decided this was too dangerous and I needed to return to the boxcar.  I managed to climb back, even though I was climbing on pure air, until I reached the inside of the boxcar.

The boxcar was rather large, and about 40 other hobos were inside. The train was headed west -- I was going to Texas. One other hobo was headed all the way to the west coast, to San Diego. Most had brought plastic  containers (all different colors -- about a meter long and a half meter wide and a half meter deep) with them in which they were transporting their belongings. Dozens and dozens of the plastic containers were in the boxcar and the hobos were sitting around atop the containers.

I had also brought 6-7 plastic containers with me. I could see some of the stuff in the other hobos containers. The fellow next to me had old toys in his container. His toys looked like old metal toy planes; some were even rusty. I wondered if I had brought junk like that in my containers -- I couldn't seem to remember exactly what I had brought, but I thought I had brought a bunch of junk with me, including old toys. Some old mechanical robots might be in one of my containers. I thought when the train finally stopped, I might sell some of the stuff in my containers so I wouldn't have to keep hauling it around all over the place.

When some of the men started talking, the place reminded me a bit of a big classroom. I thought I might even make some friends here. But then I thought I would probably simply be with these people for a while, then move on without making friends. I thought I might strike up a conversation with one fellow (about 40 years old) sitting near me.

Suddenly, however, I began to worry. I now recalled that I had put some money (about $250,000) in one of my containers. None of my containers was locked -- they merely had the plastic tops on them. Somebody might have stolen my money while I had been out in front of the boxcar. I started berating myself about how stupid I had been to leave that money in here with these people whom I didn't even know.

I started going through my containers, opening them one at a time. A couple were completely empty. I had difficulty telling which containers were mine. Nevertheless, I kept opening containers, but I simply couldn't find the money. I repeatedly chided myself for having been so stupid.

I also had a gun in one container. I thought if I could find the gun, I could force everyone to stay until I had gone through every container and found my money.

I knew the $250,000 in the container was only half my money -- I had another $250,000 elsewhere which I could fall back on. But losing half my money would be a disaster. Still, at the same time, everything happening to me seemed so unreal, I wasn't as concerned as I should have been. It just seemed as if I were making up the whole scenario as I was going along, as if this wasn't really happening, but was just a lesson which I was learning -- to be more careful, and not fall into a trap like this. It seemed that this time, at least, the disaster was not actually happening to me. 

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