When I asked her the number for the bus station, she couldn't seem to find it, but she told me the bus ticket would cost a little over five dollars. I still wanted the phone number of the bus station because I wanted to ascertain what time the bus was leaving. Since I didn't think that a bus ran directly from Patriot to the Farm, I thought I would first have to take a bus from Patriot to Chillicothe, then travel from Chillicothe to Gallipolis. Once I reached Gallipolis, I would arrange for my grandparents Clarence and Mabel to come to Gallipolis to fetch me and take me to the Farm.

It was already about 4:30 p.m. and I didn't know whether I would have enough time to reach the bus station. The operator seemed to be taking a long time trying to find the number of the bus station. I must have waited ten minutes on the phone, but she simply couldn't find the number. When I finally asked her if I could call back and talk to another operator, she responded, "Yes."

I hung up.

While my mother stood at the kitchen sink and washed dishes, I looked through the back window over the sink and noticed that the view was not the normal view of the back yard, but of the Swiver-family's house across the street. Suddenly I saw what appeared to be a falling star, except it rose from the ground into the air and then fell back to the ground. I didn't know what to think of that. I couldn't imagine what the object could have been.

When the sky began filling up with what appeared to be bombs, blasts and fireworks, I wondered if a war had begun. Indeed, my mother was suddenly convinced that atomic bombs were being dropped. I told her that so many bombs wouldn't be falling at the beginning of a war and that the sky wouldn't look like that.

Since I nevertheless couldn't figure out what was going on, I walked outside where several people were in the road. One fellow was walking toward me from the direction of the blasts. I asked him what had happened and he said a plane had crashed. By now only one large billow of smoke could be seen rising from one spot. I thought the plane must have had some armaments or something similar on board.

After walking back into the House, I decided I wanted to see the crash. I assembled my brother Chris (crippled with muscular dystrophy) and my mother's brother George (crippled with polio), and I loaded them into a little red car. Other fellows from the neighborhood also boarded the car, and even though the car was mine, I climbed into the back seat and let somebody else drive. We took off down the road.

We rode for a while until I finally decided to drive and I exchanged places with the driver. As I started driving, George, sitting next to me on my right, was crowding me so much that I could barely drive My leg also seemed to be going numb. Suddenly George started shaking and appeared to be having an epileptic fit. Then he began singing loudly.

When we reached a place which reminded me of Shawnee State Forest, the road changed into a dirt road on which we continued. We passed some guard rails, and when I finally spotted parked cars, I thought we must be approaching the crash site. After I pulled up behind some cars and parked, I suddenly realized that Chris and George weren't going to be able to see the crash since both were crippled. I was going to have to leave them in the car.

I stepped out with the rest of the people in the car and we headed in the direction of the plane, still farther back in the woods. As we walked through the trees and encountered other roads, I realized I could have probably driven closer to the crash site if I had I known that the roads were there. We walked down dirt roads and even on one concrete road.

When we reached the crash site, the fire from the plane was no longer burning. I walked over and stepped inside the plane, which was white inside. The hull of the plane (broken in places) looked as if it were six or seven centimeters thick and resembled Styrofoam, except it was hard like cement. The plane didn't even look like a plane and as I walked into one little completely empty room of the plane, I thought, "Well, everything has been burned out."

I walked into another similar room and found a black man atop an old freezer which he was trying to open. He pounded on the freezer until it finally opened. My father - also in the room - and I both looked into the freezer which appeared to be empty. Nevertheless, my father reached inside and said, "Well here's a gun."

He pulled out an old gun which looked as if it had been burned up. At first I thought the gun was real, but when I looked at it more closely, I discovered it to be a small, gray, plastic, squirt gun.

I looked into another section of the freezer and saw things which hadn't been burned including paper sacks - through which the black man began searching - and some cloth which looked like darning material. I thought the sacks had probably belonged to the plane stewardesses who now were all dead.

It looked as if the black man were going to take some of the things and when a crowd gathered around the freezer, I thought the people were actually going to take everything in the freezer.

A couple sacks contained some attractive women's shoes. One woman in the crowd said the shoes probably cost about $35 and she rummaged through the sack. I thought the people were simply going to take everything, and even though people were apparently allowed to take whatever they wanted, I didn't want anything. I foraged about in another box a bit and saw a long slender leather satchel which I pulled out and unzipped. Inside I found a pretty, stringed instrument which I thought was a mandolin. I plucked a few strings and it sounded great. When I noticed other people looking at the instrument, I put it back into the satchel, zipped up the satchel and thought something like, "Well I'm just going to keep this myself."

I walked into another room of the plane where I found some little statues sitting on a table, including many intricately carved ivory statues, and I put some of those in my pocket. When I found larger statues, I thought I would take those for my mother. I would give one statue to my brother Chris and other statues to other people. As I rounded up statues which I could give to people, I looked around and found a little box into which I put the statues.

I found a long wooden frame, about ten centimeters wide and two meters long - designed to hold plants - filled with flowers. Carved ivory elephants were attached to the edges of the frame. I thought someone would even eventually take that frame.

I found another carved elephant sitting in the flowers inside the frame. I picked up the elephant which also appeared to be made from ivory. I thought perhaps I would take it, but upon closer scrutiny, I saw that the elephant was actually made of plastic, so I put it back.

After looking around and taking a few more things, I walked into another room which had a hardwood floor, walls and ceiling - all of which hadn't been burned. The room was completely empty and appeared perfectly normal. I said something like, "But why is it that none of this stuff has been burned out if this plane burned up?"

Then I thought, "Because this is a dream. I'm dreaming now."

That satisfied me so I continued looking at things.

My father and I finally decided to leave. So many people were now flocking in that the crowd was becoming oppressive. Everyone was trying to get as much as they could. I thought that they were all scavengers and that I myself was a scavenger, even though I thought everything we were doing was perfectly legal.

My father and I began thinking that since so many people were now coming in, some policemen would probably soon appear. Thinking the police might even try to take the stuff away from us, we decided to circle over top of a hill and then come down by our car from the other side so nobody would see us.

We came to the elephant section. One elephant began sucking my hand and at one point two baby elephants charged at me. The right tusk of one of the small elephants was broken off. I mounted an elephant that was a darker gray color than the smaller ones. It had both its tusks. As I rode the elephant, I was wearing a cowboy hat, and I held my left hand under my butt. I did an excellent job of riding and when I finished I slid gracefully off its head.

On the other side of the section I saw some pink caskets and I wished I had my camera so I could take pictures.

We continued on to the monkey and ape section where a gorilla charged at me. As Katherine and I walked along she kept holding on to my arm. When I broke away from her, she cried out loudly.

When we reached a lounge area, we sat down on a couch. Katherine began talking and threatened to publish some kind of agreement I had made with her concerning a pair of Levi pants I had given her which had shrunk. I told her I would have her expelled from law school. When Haim (another fellow law student) showed up, I began explaining the agreement to him. He said something about my having been a nice guy for having given the pants to Katherine. I agreed.

Donna (another law student) was sitting on the other side of the room, while a pretty black-haired girl I had seen at law school was sitting next to Katherine. When Katherine finally left, the girl said some funny sarcastic things about the agreement.

I joined back up with Katherine and we lay down together on a park bench. She moved ever closer to me and I told her to put her breast in my mouth. A woman nearby (who seemed to be a law student) began screaming. Katherine wanted to leave. I refused at first but finally gave in.

When I told Katherine I wasn't going to see her anymore, she became quite upset. I wanted to tell her that if she would simply lose 50 pounds, I would see her again, but I didn't know exactly how to say it. Being overweight was obviously her problem.

Another woman, who had overhead me talking to Katherine, said something to Katharine. I asked the woman if she would accompany Katherine home, and as they talked, I slipped away. I walked back to where the gorillas and elephants were. I felt sorry for the larger elephants being in stalls.

He told me he was going to the train station to pick up a parcel (which had something to do with his case) from UPS. He needed to find out what was written on a particular document.

As we arrived at the train station, the train carrying his parcel pulled up, but it continued to move along the track and didn't seem to be stopping. The train was going so slow, I thought perhaps we should simply hop aboard.

When the train finally stopped, we saw a freight car with "UPS" written on the side, boarded the train and walked into the UPS car which was filled with mail. As we walked around amidst the bundles and packages of mail, Terrell pointed to one bundle and said, "Well we need to start going through this bundle. Throw the packages over here in this bin and go through them and look for the address of Vail."

I began picking up packages and throwing them into the bin. Terrell did the same. The train began moving and was soon going full speed as we continued looking through the bundles of mail. I thought our activity was an interesting aspect of legal research. Quite impressed by Terrell's conduct of the investigation , I said, "Well, you certainly do know some tricks of the trade, don't you."

When I finally spotted a package which said "Vail" on it, I pointed it out to Terrell. He came over and opened it. It contained many sheets of paper which were all the same. On the front of each sheet was a picture of an elephant.

Terrell began reading some writing which was also on each sheet. The writing was about a girl named Pam Brown. It occurred to me that I didn't know the name of Terrell's client.

The sheet said Pam Brown was going to marry in a few days. The marriage was to be a Hindu type marriage and the papers were invitations to the wedding.

The papers described some of the events to occur at the wedding. It interested me. The papers said, "You are all invited."

Apparently the sheet was going to be printed in a magazine and the public was going to be invited. I thought perhaps I would go and take Bonnie (my girlfriend, a law student at Baylor Law School).

Weinstein appeared apologetic about the way he had treated me the previous time. Although I had come to visit him that time, he had spent very little time with me and had left me to go somewhere else without inviting me. As he talked, I remembered what had happened. I hadn't been upset with him at the time because I had figured he had simply been busy and preoccupied with matters about which I knew very little. I did remember that I had arrived on a Friday and that I had left fairly soon thereafter, probably Sunday, because I had perceived that Weinstein was so engaged with his other business.

What was interesting though, was hearing Weinstein talk about how the weekend I had been there had been one of deep importance in his life. And he seemed to think that although I hadn't been with him, my presence in New York had had an influence on him and on the events of the weekend. He then began describing the weekend and its impact on his life.

I was quite interested in what he was saying, but I didn't retain most of it. As well as I could tell, he had spent the time meeting a number of spiritually bizarre, but impressive, people. I seemed to be able to somewhat visualize some of them as he described them, but the images were dim.

It did seem that one thing Weinstein had learned was that his relationship with me was more significant than he had previously thought. Now, although we weren't communicating perfectly, he seemed to be making more effort to do so and he seemed more at ease with my presence. He seemed more aware of my feeling of friendship toward him and more inclined to accept it.

As we continued ascending the building and he continued talking, I began to realize that something had happened to Weinstein in this building the previous time I had been in town and that Weinstein now wanted to show it to me. Finally we came out on the black, tarred roof of the building. The building was tall, perhaps one of the tallest in New York, but the area on the roof was rather small, about the size of an average room, and there were no railings along the edges. I immediately became uncomfortable.

Weinstein had become quite animated and seemed completely unaffected by the height of the building. When his conversation turned to the "atomsmasher," I slowly realized he was referring to the building, inside of which apparently was some highly developed scientific machinery used for smashing atoms. In fact I seemed to feel the building vibrating to a certain extent and I felt quite queasy and apprehensive.

Weinstein however appeared self-confident. He pointed out that the previous time I had been there, part of the difficulty between him and me had been my reluctance to climb atop the atomsmasher as I was now doing. He asked me if I was now ready to raise my hands in the air and wiggle them over my head. I knew that such a gesture was in line with our being atop the atomsmasher and indeed I felt as if I might do it; however I was still not thoroughly comfortable with the height.

In fact I finally had to sit, almost lie down, on the roof to ease my anxiety. Weinstein continued talking and spoke of the differences and significances of looking up at buildings from below and looking down from atop them. I told him I wasn't afraid of looking up, but I did have some problem with looking down.

***

Weinstein and I were walking along together in a park in which we had just arrived. It looked as if Weinstein and I were both just wearing a pair of cut off shorts and we didn't have on any shirts. We passed a row of perhaps 20 men and women (probably in their early 30s) who were jogging and seemed quite healthy. They were all wearing new clean shirts and tops. All their clothes had thick stripes on a white background, and each person's stripes seemed to be of a different color. Their clothes looked comfortable, and I somewhat wished I had some like them. But at the same time, I was unsure I would want to wear the same clothes everyone else was wearing and jog along in a group like that.

Nearby in a shallow pool were several elephants and sitting atop them were young black boys splashing water on the elephants and washing them. It looked like such an extremely pleasant thing to do, and of everything I had seen in New York, I thought that was what I would most like to do: I would like to be sitting just as the young black boys were, atop the elephants. The boys appeared to be nude and I couldn't tell for sure if they were wearing shorts. I thought how good it would feel to be young and nude on the elephants, to feel my testes and my legs rubbing against the skin of the elephants. I wanted so much to join them.

While I was standing by a pool of water in the park, a large hippopotamus came to the edge and placed its mouth around the bottom part of my left leg. It wasn't clamping down and causing me any pain, but I realized the strength of its jaws was such that it could crush my leg if it wanted. So although I rather enjoyed having my leg in the hippo's mouth, I was quite apprehensive and wanted to remove it. When I called to Weinstein and pointed out my predicament, he seemed to think it peculiar, but he didn't seem alarmed.

As Weinstein and I walked on through the park, he began talking about my physique, "Collier, you're in the prime of your life."

He then became slightly critical, although not abrasive, about my not building up my body, and he seemed to want to compare my body with his, which was in excellent shape. I had lost some weight since the last time I had seen him, but I had added little muscle to my body. He pointed at my stomach and said something about my pants just hanging on me. He then said something about a red line around my stomach and I noticed somewhat of a crease there.

***

I found Weinstein standing inside a small booth in the park, practicing what appeared to be some kind of exercise which I had never seen before. Hanging from the ceiling of the booth was a string which held a mirror about head-high. In the booth next to the one Weinstein was in was a similar arrangement, except the mirror in the next booth was perhaps 30 centimeters square while the one in Weinstein's booth was only about 15 centimeters square.

Weinstein seemed to be totally absorbed in practicing with the mirror. As well as I could tell, the exercise consisted simply of hitting the mirror in such a way that it would move as much as possible and still not be broken by the blow. Weinstein held what appeared to be small pieces of cardboard in his hands and hit the mirror with the cardboard. Obviously Weinstein had had considerable experience in practicing with the mirror and he seemed quite adept at making it twirl and move around without breaking. I was unsure I could actually see the practicality of what he was doing, but I thought the exercise might help develop ability at martial defense.

A similar arrangement was in the booth left of Weinstein's, except that instead of a mirror, a green tennis ball was tied to the string. I thought hitting the tennis ball would be more to my liking and I decided to exercise with that. Before I began, however, I wanted Weinstein to try to hit the tennis ball. I turned to him and said, "OK now hit this ball."

He stepped into to the booth and the tennis ball was put in motion. Weinstein had difficulty hitting the ball; he could barely connect with the ball as it swung back and forth. Weinstein still had the small pieces of cardboard in his hands and he tried to hit the ball with them, but his swings lacked force and his motions seemed like those of a very small child. I said, "Is that the way you're going to hit it when you fight?"

I didn't think he really had the idea of what it meant to fight. I knew I would be fairly good at exercising with the ball. I thought part of my ability would derive from my having developed my awareness. I stepped up to the booth, prepared to begin hitting the ball and said, "OK, now watch this."

Walking in the downtown area of a small town, I stopped in front of the display window of a store. Dozens of small items had been carefully arranged on the shelves in front of me – however, I couldn't precisely make out what the items were. I thought that the store might be a beauty salon and that the items were small replicas of old beauty devices, such as antique hair dryers. As I continued perusing the items, however, I discovered all sorts of small replicas of items which had nothing to do with beauty salons. Even some small artistic sculptures were mixed in with the lot. The entire display was well-done and impressive.

I stepped further inside the small portico (still outside) near the doorway. I could see the display window on the other side of the door hadn't been completed yet. A woman (obviously the owner) was also standing outside in front of the window. She seemed to be in the process of working on the second display window. She was probably in her late 40s and had kinky hair. She somewhat reminded me of my Dallas friend, Eloise LaGrone. As she sat down for a moment, her skirt raised up and I had a glimpse of her pubic area.

I stood a few minutes more, admiring the display, then turned to leave. I stopped in my tracks however; I felt like complementing the woman on her display. I turned back to her and said that I had been in many cities, and that this was one of the best displays I had ever seen. She seemed flattered; I turned and walked off.

I had only walked a short distance when a commotion from the other side of the street alerted me. The other side of the street didn't have any buildings on it. Instead, it was simply the side of a hill. All along the bottom of the hill, at the street, ran a tall wire fence. Now I saw why the fence was there: two gray elephants were enclosed by the fence on the hillside. The elephants were causing the commotion. They seemed in pain and rage. Trumpeting a screeching sound, one thundered toward the wire fence. Dramatically, the elephant leaped over the fence, about 50 meters from me.

The elephant turned toward me. Alarmed, I perceived my danger and ran around a corner. No place to hide – only a fire hydrant I might squat behind. I peeked back around the corner. I couldn't see the elephant now due to a dip in the street. Maybe I could find a store I could hide in. The first store I found was closed; but the second store was open. It wasn't exactly a store – just a hole in the wall, about waist high, through which refreshments were apparently served. I pulled myself into the hole and began half-crawling, half walking through a rocky tunnel which was white and lit. I thought I could hear a Hispanic woman speaking Spanish in the end of the tunnel. She must be the one who served the refreshments there. Maybe at least there I would be safe from the elephant.

After my wife Carolina and I walked into a Goodwill store, I was immediately surprised to see a group of intriguing statues standing clustered on the floor. Two statues in particular were alluring: statues of John the Baptist and Jesus Christ. These two were about 30 centimeters taller than I. They were hand-carved from dark brown wood, and had been created in exquisite detail – especially John the Baptist (the Christ statue was not quite as well-carved as the Baptist). The faces on both statues were a bit distorted, mouths gapping open, as if in shock. I stood admiringly in front of John the Baptist and looked for a price tag. Several different tags hung from the statue, but finally I found the one with the price: $98.00. It was a little expensive, but since I wanted it, I picked up the statue to claim it before someone else saw it.

No other statue in the room was as tall nor as appealing as these two, but the other statutes were likewise enticing. Carolina was already carrying around something she wanted to buy and I wondered whether I might also find something else. Many other statues were about a meter tall and portrayed very thin – emaciated – people. The other statues looked a bit African in origin, but the features of the faces didn't seem African. Had one person donated all these statues to Goodwill? I rarely visited Goodwill anymore, but I thought maybe I would begin to do so more often if these kind of items were available.

Another man walked up and perused the statues. He set down a bulky item which he was carrying, a blue and white porcelain statue of an elephant, the kind with a flat back for setting a flower pot on. It was quite attractive, standing about 60 centimeters tall.

I looked on some shelves at other items. Some cloth bags about 10 centimeters tall were sitting on one shelf. They were filled with sand and had artistic designs sewn on the side. I stuck my finger in the sand of one bag. The bags were pretty, but I wasn't interested. If a person had many things like these, storing them would be necessary part of the time; maybe big plastic boxes could be used; but that would be a lot of trouble. And was I not trying to reduce the number of my possessions, to lighten up? Maybe I shouldn't even buy the statue of the Baptist.

I picked up a picture frame with a print which looked as if it might be by Marc Chagall. The frame was well-designed, the kind which allow easy changing of pictures. I was somewhat interested; but again – should I be acquiring more possessions?

When Carolina walked back up to me, still carrying her item, I became more convinced I didn't need to buy anything. At this juncture in my life I didn't need to acquire, I needed to get rid of things. The Baptist statue was so exquisite – not buying it would be difficult. Abruptly, however, I realized I didn't need to buy anything right now. Carolina and I agreed: we wouldn't buy anything today.

I was at my Center Street House (a two-story frame house I had bought in Portsmouth at a foreclosure sale). I had hired some people who were cleaning up trash in the back yard, putting the trash in the trunk and back seat of a little white car parked in the alley. One load of trash had already been hauled away by the owner of the car (but he had used a truck for that first load, for which I had paid him $50). I was now a bit reluctant to pay the man another $50 to have a another load hauled away in a car. Since I hadn't been there when my workers had begun loading the trash into the car, I didn't know if they had already told the fellow I would pay $50. The car was already almost loaded down. I picked up a long tree branch and tried to fit it into the car, but the branch was too long. I tried to break off the small end of the branch, but it only bent without breaking. Finally I broke off a meter-long piece on the thick end of the branch.

I still didn't want to pay $50. I walked over to the back porch of the next-door neighbor, Ralph. I thought maybe I could hire Ralph to use his black truck (which was sitting out back) and I could pay him $30-$35. I still had about two loads which needed to go to the dump (three piles were in the yard). The yard would look so much better if it were clean. Of course I would also have to pay dump fees. It was all getting expensive.

I tracked through fresh untrampled snow on Ralph's back porch. Unfortunately it looked as if Ralph was not up yet. Since Ralph didn't come to the door, I walked back over to my House.

About 10 large white wooden doors were stacked against the side of my House. I had forgotten those doors. I remembered I had torn some walls out of the House and had already hauled the walls away, but I had forgotten these doors. I hated to take the doors to the dump -- they were heavy and would be expensive to dispose of at the dump. Plus the wood in the doors was so good, I hated to destroy it. But I didn't see what else I could do.

I walked inside the House. Most of the trash which had been inside had already been taken out. Only a few items which had been left in the House remained. There were a couple old trophies. One trophy was of a foot; another was of a man driving a tractor (but the man's head and torso had been broken off). Another trophy (which was broken) had Hebrew writing on it. I wondered if the people who had lived there before had been Jewish. I knew the name of the previous owner had been Barbie Fowler; I didn't think her name was Jewish.

I picked up a lock (with the key) which I had taken off one of the old doors in House (I had several of the locks). The key was about 10 centimeters long and thicker than a normal key. The key worked well in the lock -- I turned it several times. The locks almost seemed like antiques. They also had some writing on them. I thought I would save them.

It almost seemed as if there had been an estate sale in the House and these were the last few remaining items. As I walked through the House to see what else was left, I was surprised to find a live baby elephant standing on the carpet in the living room. I was fascinated by the elephant which stood about as tall as my waist. I had never been this close to a baby elephant. When I walked over to it, the elephant touched me with its snout. It already had long tusks. I was a bit afraid of it. I petted the darling elephant.

Seeing other people in the room, I asked if the elephant had been sold and was told it had. A man standing nearby seemed to know about it. He seemed a bit Indian (from India). He said the elephant was 3-4 years old. The man said the person who had bought the elephant already had several other elephants on some land not far away. I wondered if I could visit them sometime.

As I continued petting the elephant, I told the man it had a good personality. He pulled out a complicated little chart and told me that many traits could be determined in the elephant by looking at spots in its eyes. He had a whole range of traits which he said were in this elephant. I looked at the chart, but it was too complicated. Besides, I thought the chart was probably hocus pocus and not legit. I just enjoyed being with the elephant without looking at any charts.

As another person and I wandered atop a forested mountain, we noticed several elephants which were excited about something. One elephant was holding some burning sticks in its snout and I had the impression the elephant was trying to set the forest afire. The elephant finally threw down the sticks and all the elephants raced off away from us. I especially remarked how fast one elephant was running, gracefully sprinting into the distance.

I next noticed several cheetahs grouped together in a thicket, apparently pursuing their prey. The cheetahs adroitly wound themselves through the brush.

With so much wildlife in the area, I was surprised to see a couple small houses nearby and I wondered who would live clear up there. Both houses were small, probably not more than one room. After my companion and I walked up close to one, I wondered if I might be able to stay up there sometime -- this was such a picturesque place and I would surely enjoy some time up there alone.

I walked up to one of the little houses, and finding the door open, I walked in. I was immediately greeted by a man standing in the room and I instantly knew who he was: Ernest Hemmingway. He was a tall slender lanky man (probably in his late 40s). I felt rather presumptuous being in the house of Ernest Hemingway, and I figured I wouldn't be allowed to stay, but he was quite cordial and unassuming. We spoke and he quickly put me at ease and made me feel welcome.

A tape recorder was playing and I quickly recognized the recording as a play by Shapespeare. I realized Hemingway and I would have something in common: apparently we both enjoyed listening to tapes of Shakespeare plays. Maybe Hemingway and I could spend time together. I didn't know much about him, except that he was a writer, but I felt at ease there and I thought he and I could be friends.

I immediately thought of something we might be able to do together and I pulled out a book which contained poems by Dante. I motioned Hemingway over to a chair and we both sat down. I opened the book to a poem and began reading. I quickly stopped however, because the Shakespeare tape in the background was interfering with my reading. I asked the other person who had accompanied me there (whom I now identified as my wife Carolina to turn off the recorder so I could continue with my reading. She did so and I once again began reading.

Hemingway was now standing, and as I read, he seemed a bit distracted. I quickly surmised what the problem might be: I was reading the poem in English and he would probably prefer it read in the original Italian. I stopped and asked him if he would prefer Italian. He didn't answer, but I felt from his looks that he was assessing me, weighing his own language abilities against mine. I still felt comfortable, but slightly disconcerted. I knew some Italian, but I didn't really know the language well enough to read the poems out loud in Italian. I hoped my inadequacy wouldn't impact upon this blossoming friendship.

I had gone to visit my paternal grandmother Mabel (1908-1997) and my paternal step-grandfather Clarence (1916-1993) at a house which they had bought in the country. I was somewhat reluctant to visit them, since it seemed they only wanted me to do some work in the kitchen for them.

I walked outside and entered a long barn-like building. I became intrigued when I saw boxes of board games stacked up in the barn. I couldn't see the boxes well, however, because stacks of newspapers were between me and the boxes. I thought I might climb up on the stacks of newspapers so I could better see the board games.

Just as I started to climb on the newspapers, an old 1950s model, light-blue car entered the barn and turned around in a circle. Since I didn't want to talk with anyone, I started walking toward the exit. Once outside, I found myself in what appeared to be an amusement park. As I walked around amidst the other people, I thought I would prefer spending the day in the amusement park instead of with my grandparents.

In my hand I was holding a little white paper which I folded up and threw down on the ground. Almost immediately I realized the paper had been my ticket for the amusement park. I walked back to where I had thrown down the paper and started looking for it. I saw a piece of paper (which someone kicked) and I picked it up, but it wasn't the piece I had thrown down. I worried someone might check me later and throw me out when I was found not to have a ticket. 

I passed some people standing at the top of a ramp which stretched down into an underground room. When I stopped and stood with the others, I could hear a screeching sound emanating from the room, and suddenly I saw a little baby elephant walking up the ramp. It was so pretty. It walked toward me and as it passed me, I reached out and touched it on the back. As it walked though the crowd of people, I followed it until I finally reached out, grabbed it and began petting it, even though I was unsure petting was allowed.

I could still hear the screeching sound from the underground room and I realized the screeching sounded like a whole heard of elephants making the noise. A man walked up to me and said something about "one forty." I concluded that at 1:40 the elephants would be brought out of the underground room for viewing.

Instead of waiting to see the elephants, I walked on. I passed a large circular room filled with magazines. I thought I could get a magazine and spend the day reading it, if I wanted. But I didn't stop, and I next noticed a boy (about 10 years old) had walked up to me and had excitedly started talking about a big snake which was close-by. I walked with him over to the entrance of a room and looked inside. Some men were knelt down on the floor and were energetically trying to pull something up out from under the floor. I finally saw the macabre thing. It looked something like a giant head of a snake (about a half meter wide), but more like the head of a giant catfish. The men pulled and pulled until suddenly the thing popped out. It wasn't a snake at all, but a big brown cow (at first I thought it was a bull). It was a long-horn. It lay on the ground on its back - an amazing sight. I couldn't figure out how the cow had been under the floor of the room. 

Lying on a nearby table was a little pamphlet which contained information and pictures about the members of my class. I wanted to make sure I had one of the programs and I picked one up. I opened the pamphlet and saw a list of the names. As I ran my eyes over the list, it appeared to be incomplete. I specifically looked for the name of "Hurley" because I knew Hurley hadn't actually graduated, although he had originally been in my class. Thus I was curious whether his name would be on the list. I didn't think he would be on the list, and indeed he wasn't. 

When everyone walked outside of the building, I found myself on a city street lined with shops. While everyone else walked along, I climbed on the back of an elephant and rode the elephant down the street. In my right hand I was holding a long silver dagger, while lying in front of me on the elephant's back was some kind of metal plate. I began pounding the tip of the dagger on the plate, the same as hitting a drum with a drumstick, beating out a march-rhythm as we all proceeded along the sidewalk.

As we passed the little shops and outdoor cafes, I thought I noticed George W. Bush sitting at a table in one cafe. As we drew closer, however, I couldn't tell if the person was Bush, and we rode on by.

When we reached a corner where a green plant was growing, the elephant balked and wouldn't go straight on. Instead we turned left and headed down a narrow shop-lined corridor.