Dream of:11 February 2011 "Hiraz Cox"
While I was walking around the historic Bonneyfiddle area of Portsmouth, in the background I could hear a radio playing a program which sounded like something from National Public Radio. A story was being narrated about an older man who used to live in Portsmouth. A young girl had gone missing several times and people thought the girl had gone to the man's house. It wasn't clear, but it sounded as if the girl might have been homeless. Then the narrator gave the girl's full name - it was Michelle. Stunned, I listened more attentively to the foreboding program. Apparently the disappearance had occurred when Michelle had been very young. When she disappeared the third time, no one had been able to find her. The authorities thought that she had disappeared into the man's house.
The program stopped and I continued walking along the banks of the Ohio River. I saw where a large section of land had been cleared of shrubs all the way down to the raw dirt. I slowly realized that the man who had been mentioned on the radio had once owned this particular tract of land. He was a rich man and he had sold the land so it could be developed.
When I walked all the way to the edge of the water, I saw a man standing there, looking out over the river. We were on a high bank, about 10 meters above the river. Suddenly I realized this was the very man who had been mentioned on the radio. A thin gaunt man, he was around 50 years old. He was dressed in an old-fashioned suit which might have been from the early 1900s.
When I stepped up to him and asked him his name, he said his name was "Cox." I recognized the name as the same one which had been given on the radio and I told him I had heard his name on the radio that morning. He immediately became defensive. I asked him his first name and it sounded as if he said, "Herbert." He clearly acted as if he didn't want to talk anymore and he walked off.
I continued walking around by myself until Michelle (only about 15 years old) and my father showed up. I wanted to tell Michelle about what I had heard on the radio. I asked her if she knew someone named Cox. A bell seemed to go off in her head. I added, "Herbert."
She shook her head as if to say no. At the same time, she no longer looked like Michelle, but like a boy about 15 years old. She said the man's name had been "Hiraz Cox." I didn't clearly understood the name at first. I thought she might have said, "Hiram." I asked her to repeat the name, which she did, and I understood the name was "Hiraz," which seemed like a very strange name to me.
Obviously she did remember the man. Obviously, however, she didn't want to talk about it, so we continued walking along. And obviously (as I had suspected for a long time) this was all confirmation that there was much more to Michelle's history than I knew about.
It looked as if some kind of carnival was going to take place further down along the river bank. My father and Michelle walked ahead of me toward the carnival area.
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