I was in a car being driven by Michelle's father, Will (probably in his mid 30s). The rusty and skeletal car was such a piece of junk I could hardly believe it was even running. We had ridden out into the country and picked up a little puppy. After we were back in the car, Will asked me if I would give him some money so he could buy two milligrams of something. I knew he was talking about getting some drugs and I didn't want to give him any money for that. His tawdry begging for money reminded me of the way that Michelle sometimes begged me to give her money.

Now we were headed back home on an old road on the outskirts of a city and I was looking for Route 93. I caught a glimpse of a sign as we passed it and I thought it had said "93," but when Will turned around and went back to the sign, it actually said "98."

Will finally started driving down a little road called "Route 8," even though I didn't think it was the right road. He continued on until he finally reached a dead end in an area polluted with old junk cars and little shacks. It was so ugly, it was hard to believe a place like that even existed. As he pulled farther into the dead end, I slowly realized we were somewhere in Texas. He finally stopped and started backing up. When he started going forward again, the car started tipping - it looked as if he had pulled up over a cliff and I thought I and the little puppy were going to die. Will quickly shifted the car into reverse. I couldn't believe it when he was actually able to back up away from the cliff. He backed up, turned around, and headed out of the area.

He drove up another little road abounding with little shacks. I pointed out that the shacks even had outhouses. I saw five outhouse right next to each other. Some of the houses had nothing but sheet metal for walls.

At first I didn't see anyone, but finally I spotted three women. It was cold outside and they were all bundled up so I couldn't see their faces, although I noticed that they were all over two meters tall. I told Will that the women would think we were driving a "gem" since even our junk car was so much better than the wrecks around us.

Will finally reached a decent road and we sped along. I reflected that at least Will and I were getting along. Slowly I realized that Will was actually my real father and that he had given me up for adoption when I had been a child. I had never felt close to him and I didn't want to feel close to him. I just wanted to get along with him until we extricated ourselves from this situation.

I thought about what a disaster my life would have been if Will would have raised me. He was an ill-natured reprobate. I just wanted to get away from him as soon as I could.

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