Some other people and I were sitting in chairs scattered around a spacious room and were watching a movie. Among those present was a woman whom I had recently met in Dallas,Judith Varadachar, a slender blonde-haired legal secretary, (around 40 years old, several years my senior). Wrapped in a blanket and lying at my feet, Judith seemed nervous and withdrawn. She was almost shaking.
When I noticed that Judith was clutching a knife with a five or six centimeter blade, I abruptly became concerned about her mental health and about how lonely and distraught she looked. Hoping she would sit up next to me so I could console her, I nudged her with my foot and indicated that she should scoot up beside me and declined to be close to me.
I finally managed to move around until we were side by side. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, squeezed her and pulled her next to me. There was nothing sexual about my actions; I merely wanted to comfort her. However, I was preoccupied by the knife, which Judith still held in her hand. I simply didn't know what she intended to do with it. However I didn't think she was so unstable that she would try to harm me with the knife.
Suddenly Judith seemed infused with energy. She quickly stowed the knife inside her shirt close to her breast and jumped to her feet. Once she was standing, another man joined her, and together the two of them tore off running into the next room. I likewise jumped up and followed their lead, running along behind them, across the next room, which turned out to be a gigantic gymnasium.
As I ran behind Judith and the man, I noticed what appeared to be thousands and thousands of miniature people, about one centimeter tall, running in a gigantic race beside us on the floor to my left. The miniatures resembled small silhouettes whose features couldn't be distinguished.
Although all the little figures were racing as fast as they could, one was out in front of the others. Up ahead was yet another group of miniature runners also apparently in the race. I thought it a bit unfair that the lead group had apparently had a head start over the rear group. But the fellow running ahead of the rear group seemed undaunted by the head start of the lead group. He sprinted forth, caught up with the lead group and ran through them. He was easy to pick out because his pants had a bright, white strip down the side of his leg.
Suddenly I looked back up in front of us and saw that we were approaching a white wall at the end of the gym. When Judith and her running companion, who were ahead of me, reached the wall, instead of halting, they continued running and passed right through the wall, one after the other. Their passing through the wall puzzled me – even Judith's knife must have passed through. Since I also was quickly approaching the wall, I asked myself if I also were going to try to run through it.
Instead of racing straight ahead into the wall, I began slowing down, and when I reached the wall, I came to a halt. Standing in front of the wall, I reached out and struck it with my hand. When my hand didn't pass through, I concluded that Judith and the other man apparently had some strange ability to pass through walls which I hadn't yet mastered.
Glancing to my right, I noticed a door in the wall, and decided it would be more prudent to take the door if I wanted to follow Judith and the man. I turned and walked through the door. But once I stepped through the door, I still couldn't see into the room which Judith had entered, because another wall was immediately to my left inside the door, blocking my view.
Instead, what I found in front of me was a narrow stairway leading down, with walls on both sides. I was uncertain where the stairs led, but I quickly dashed down them anyway. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I saw a narrow hallway leading to the left. I peered down the hall and could see what appeared to be a doorway at the end of the hall on the left. However, as I began walking down the hall toward the doorway, I suddenly had a chilling premonition that some danger was lurking at the end of the hall. Immediately I became frightened. It occurred to me that Judith might have had good reason for carrying the knife to protect herself; I wished I had one myself.
Alarmed by my frightening premonition of danger, I wondered what God wanted me to do. I was unsure whether God wanted me to continue down the hall or go back. But I didn't reflect long enough to be fully aware of what God wanted. Instead, I gave into my fear, reeled around and ran back down the hall and up the stairs. Only when I was on the stairs did I reflect that perhaps God had actually wanted me to continue to the doorway at the end of the hall. Nevertheless, I didn't stop. I hurried up the steps, reached the top and stepped back into the gym.
When I saw that the gym was completely empty, I hollered out, "Art?" I was uncertain why I had shouted such a word. But it occurred to me that once many years before I had known a Chicano fellow named Art in Laredo, Texas. He had been a connection for me when I had been purchasing some marijuana there. He seemed to be a rather sordid part of my past which I would have preferred not to think about anymore. But it mystified me that I would suddenly be thinking about his name since I hadn't thought about him in such a long time.
As I looked out over the empty gym, I felt exhilarated, strong and healthy. Abruptly I felt like exercising and decided to do some handsprings. I took a running leap, sprung onto my hands and flipped over. But I didn't actually execute a hand spring; instead I merely rolled over onto my back and then jumped back onto my feet. I repeated the same maneuver several times as I continued running across the gym. I was somewhat concerned that I no longer seemed to have the strength to push myself all the way over in a hand spring; perhaps I had lost my ability to actually do handsprings, I hadn't practiced them for so long.
I continued across the gym floor until I finally reached and entered the spacious room from which Judith and I had originally exited before we had run across the gym. A number of people were still in the room, which seemed as if it might be located in a school.
A rather diminutive, out-of-proportion looking man was standing in the middle of the room. Although he seemed of normal height, he somewhat resembled a midget. With a paint brush in his hand, he was standing in front of a canvas, obviously an artist painting a picture. He was dressed in ebony and wearing a huge sombrero. He had a black mustache and appeared to be Hispanic. His intriguing mannerisms reminded me of Salvador Dalí.
I walked toward him, but with a brusque motion of his hand, he waived me to the side of the room. Although I remembered that I had been able to talk when I had been in the room earlier, I immediately knew I should not say anything to now disturb this man.
As other people began marching into the room, I sat down in a folding chair with my back to the wall. The people entering the room gave the impression that we were in a school, even though I was unsure of the nature of the school. Wherever we were, I was intrigued and thought this was an interesting place to be. But I also wondered whether I should really be there, or whether I should be somewhere else.
Noticing a girl lolling behind a bar to my left, I wondered if I should step over to the bar and ask the girl if I needed to register to be there.
Some strong-looking men were gathered in one area of the room, an area which had the air of a carnival. One of the men seemed to be buying some balls to throw at something. I also felt strong, although I felt as if I needed to work out with some weights. I wondered what would happen if I were to push one of the fellows in a challenging way. Although I wasn't afraid of the men, I concluded it would probably not be wise to provoke them. Yet I was a bit concerned that one of them might start a fight with me. Again I thought I needed to work out more and become stronger, so I would feel more confident in situations like this.
A black girl (about 19-20 years old) was leaning against a juke box to my left. She wasn't attractive and had a bit of a complexion problem, but I thought if I were polite and courteous to her, I would probably endear myself to the people there. I thought I would ask her if she would like to have my seat. I started to say to her, "May you want to sit here?" But realizing that my use of the word "may" sounded phony, I instead cheerily asked, "Do you want to sit here?"
She indicated that she would like to sit down and I stood up. Once I was on my feet, I wondered whether I should start asking her questions to try to understand exactly what was going on there. However I decided not to do so. It seemed better to simply stand there and observe. I thought the time for me to be asking questions had passed – I needed to come to grips with the situation without bothering people with a bunch of questions. Anyway, there was only one main question in my mind, "Should I really be here?"
I simply couldn't seem to relate well with what was going on in the room. It seemed as if I should be doing something else. But I was unsure what else to do.
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