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Dream of: 31 January 1982 "International Law Articles"

While I was at Baylor Law School, someone (perhaps one of the professors) gave me a sheet of paper, which had something to do with international law written on it. Apparently, the paper had been taken from a larger work and it contained small excerpts of articles which people had written. In the lower left corner was an article which I had written concerning international law. The name of the article was there, then my name, Steven Collier, and then another word written in long hand which I could not understand—it might have been "lawyer like."

I was in the back part of the law library. I stood up to leave and as I walked down the hall inside the library, I encountered Leah Farish (a law student), who was wearing a red dress. As I walked toward her, I thought of showing her the paper to see if she understood the word, but I decided I did not want to do that right now. When she saw me, she walked toward me and said, "Well, here's Steve Collier. He'll be able to tell me if I'm going to have a test today."

I replied, "Yea, there's just no doubt about it, you're going to have a test."

Actually, I had no idea whether she was going to have a test today, but since she seemed to want me to prognosticate, I simply told her she was.

My nose was so stopped up I could not breathe through it. I said to Leah, "I gotta go. My nose is all stopped up."

Apparently, her nose was also stopped up, because she sniffed and said, "Yea, I know what you mean."

I did want to talk to her but I wanted to go to the restroom first. I walked on and entered the restroom. When I finished, I walked out of the restroom and began walking down the stairs. On the stairs was a fellow whom I thought was Pat Flanigan (a fellow law student). I thought he was probably headed for the constitutional law class, where I also needed to go, but when I walked closer, I saw he was not Flanigan. I glanced at a clock; it was already a quarter till the hour. I looked in the lounge; since no one was there, I thought, "Oh, no. Everybody's already in class."

I did not want to go into the class, because the law professor, David Guinn, did not like people arriving late, but I thought, "Well, that clock is a little fast. So I won't really be late."

I walked into the class, even though upon entering I could hear Guinn already lecturing. I was going to head for my seat but then I saw that only about half the people were sitting in seats; the rest were sitting in the aisles. I then realized this class was a special session to go over old tests. Some old tests were lying on the desks.

I did not understand why so many people were sitting in the aisles and standing around instead of getting in their seats, but I knew I wanted to sit down. I edged my way to the back where I saw some empty seats. Jimmy Crouch (a law student) began walking down one aisle and I followed him. We passed some people until we reached a point where some people had their feet sticking into the aisle so it was difficult to pass. Crouch made it by. I was almost ready to step on a fellow's legs which were in my way.

Guinn asked what all the commotion was about. The fellow straightened up and let me pass. I went on until I found some large green bags on which I sat. Tim Perkins (another law student) was seated to my left, and on the other side of Perkins was Leah's husband, Kent Farish; on the other side of Kent was Leah, who had her arms around Kent's neck. Since Kent was not a law student, I wondered what he was doing here. I thought, "Well, he must have just come to listen in once, to see what it was like."

Guinn had been talking about federal actions, but now he began talking about the fellow who had not wanted to let me pass down the aisle. Guinn was trying to use the fellow as an example, to show how a person who interfered with another's rights could be sued. Guinn went into a rather long diatribe as he asked people questions about it. He talked about "injury in fact" and explained how actual injury must exist in order to be able to sue someone, but if a person's rights are interfered with, that might be injury in and of itself.

When the class was over and I had left, I wanted to do something nice for someone. As I walked through the building, I encountered an overweight girl doing dishes at a sink. I had once before told the girl I would help her do dishes. So I stood at the sink and helped her wash the dishes, even though there were many dishes and it took a long time. I had no feelings for the girl. I just felt as if I wanted to do something to help someone. The dishes belonged to her and her husband; apparently she had to wash them every day. Although some small brushes were lying there, they were not scrub brushes, so I did not have a brush with which to scrub. I had to scrub on one pan for a long time with my fingers. I was trying to remove some stains which seemed like coffee stains.

The girl was pretty; she just needed to lose weight. As we washed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror; I was starting to grow a beard.

I thought about Leah: she would not be able to believe seeing me actually doing something nice for someone.

We worked on the dishes for a long time until only a couple remained. The girl told me not to worry about them—we could just leave them dirty.

She walked over to a calendar which had the initials PSB at the top. The initials stood for a chemical drug. The girl said I had previously written the letters there. I told her not I, but she had written the initials.

As I started to walk out of the room, the girl walked up to me and stuck her hand inside the back of my shirt. Inferring that she wanted to have an amorous affair with me, I protested, "Don't do that. Don't do that."

She was overweight and I did not want to have anything to do with her. I had just wanted to help her out. I walked away.

After leaving her, I walked upstairs, and found myself in the upstairs of the Gay Street House. I looked into a bedroom; a light was on, but I did not see anyone. I walked into the upstairs living room. My father was lying under a cover on the floor. He awoke, saw me, and said, "So there you are."

He proceeded to explain that the police had been looking for me. Although I was unsure, I thought I had about $100,000 worth of marijuana here in the House. Referring to the marijuana, my father said, "Well, I thought maybe that was what they were looking for."

My father also told me he had asked the police about the bail; they had told him the bail would be $100,000.

Apparently, the police wanted to arrest me because I had escaped from prison in Iran. They wanted to deport me because I had apparently broken a national law, and there was now a national cause of action against me. My father said that the police, as well as an Indian chief, had been here every day looking for me.

I was not completely surprised; I had been thinking for a long time that something like this might happen. I was still uncertain whether I should turn myself in or become a fugitive. I could call and try to determine exactly what the police wanted from me. I could possibly call from the Gallia County Farmhouse, or a pay phone, or perhaps even right here at the House. I rejected all those ideas because I thought the police might be able to trace the call and find out where I was. If I were calling from the Farmhouse and the call was traced, the police would surely be able to cut off my means of escape.

My father said he would stand by me if I tried to clear myself.

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