While in a large, modern, carpeted office containing six or seven workers, I was surprised to hear that I was the topic of conversation of some workers. I quickly surmised they were talking about a debt or debts which I had incurred by using credit cards. I said nothing and listened attentively.
They had apparently concluded I wasn't going to pay the debts. They brought up the fact that I was a lawyer and they seemed to imply I therefore should be held to a higher degree of accountability for my debts. One mentioned contacting a prosecuting attorney; that alarmed me because I knew that would indicate they were considering the affair as a criminal matter.
One short man dressed in a suit (apparently a lawyer) stood in the middle of the room and shook his head from side to side. He apparently considered me as a type of lawyer who had lost his way, as lawyers sometimes do. Another fellow sitting at a bench had a paper with my name written on it. He also had an invoice from the Clark Boardman Company which I knew sold legal books. I remembered I did indeed owe that company some money, not more than $100, for a book. I thought how if I had intended not to pay them, I could have ordered many more books than that.
The company which most concerned me was Hertz. I had rented some Hertz cars recently on a credit card and I had incurred a substantial debt. Plus I had some other debts. I had considered filing bankruptcy to rid myself of the debts and I had thought if I did so, my legal problems concerning the debts would be basically solved, but now I was concerned by the mention of contacting a prosecuting attorney. I didn't think I had done anything criminal in the matter, but I still wanted to avoid any contact with a prosecuting attorney.
I thought perhaps I could have Mary Biester (a Dallas attorney friend) file bankruptcy for me. I would have to put everything together fairly quickly.
I decided to leave the room. I walked around the room but I couldn't find the exit. Finally a woman pointed out a door in the corner to me. I walked outside, but suddenly realized I was in my stocking feet -- I had left my shoes inside. I walked back in and saw my black shoes sitting beneath a bench on the plush carpet. I picked them up and exited again.
I went to a building where I knew my buddy Mike Walls was living. As I stood before the door to the building, I thought I heard Walls' voice telling me to go on in, but I didn't see Walls anywhere. Finally I saw him looking out the third or fourth floor window of the building next door. At the same time I saw him, I toppled through the open window of the door to the building where Walls lived. I could hardly stand up and I felt as if I were very intoxicated from alcohol. However, I didn't want Walls to think I had been drinking any alcohol and I hollered back to him that I was just acting that way. I had the feeling that he didn't believe me, but that he didn't really care one way or the other whether I was intoxicated. He was friendly and told me to go on up to his place, where his wife Connie and Howie (an obnoxious Portsmouth acquaintance) were. I appreciated Walls' friendliness.
While I had been away, some of my mail had been delivered there. I picked up several large envelopes and headed up the stairs. Walls lived on the third or fourth floor and due to my feeling of intoxication, the climb was quite laborious.
I finally reached Walls' apartment, walked in and sat down. I immediately began looking at my mail and opened a large envelope sent to me by my friend Salvador Ibarra. It contained several large pictures, probably 10 by 15 centimeters, which Salvador apparently had made himself. The first one I looked at had quite a bit of dark color, but I noticed in the center, depending on how I held the picture, I could see the outline of a person's head. When I held it a different way the outline changed and the head looked different. In fact at one angle, the head looked like that of Jesus Christ. At another angle it looked like a small boy, and other heads at other angles.
Another picture was quite colorful and appeared to have been painted on a white piece of paper. The paper appeared to have some raised surfaces which gave the painting a particular texture. One painting seemed to be of a colorful tropical island with palm trees, while another appeared to be of a mountain scene.
As I looked at it, I realized I somehow had images of words which formed in my mind. Somehow Salvador was able to communicate word messages through the paintings, even though the words weren't actually on the picture. It was quite an amazing achievement. The words were quite poignant and the word "amigo" particularly registered in my mind.
I wrapped myself up in a blanket. I was feeling depressed because I was still thinking about my debts. I thought I had acted dishonestly by incurring the debts without intending to pay for them and my dishonesty was now causing me pain.
I had the impression that Salvador might be going to visit Walls. I was unsure how Salvador had become acquainted with Walls, but I thought he had been visiting Walls frequently. If Salvador came, I would probably speak Spanish with him.
When I looked up, I realized Walls had entered and with him he had brought Salvador. Salvador however didn't look like himself. He looked as if he were only in his late teens and his facial features were quite different. Salvador had some kind of tissue in his hand. He sat down and pulled something from the tissue which I thought was probably a joint. Indeed I saw some smoke curling from Salvador's mouth.
Walls was quite agitated and appeared to be intoxicated on either alcohol or drugs. He obviously wanted me to smoke something. I finally realized what Salvador had wasn't marijuana, but small pieces of hash which he had mixed with tobacco and rolled into a cigarette. He spread several small pieces of the hash out on a piece of white paper on the floor.
I was tempted to smoke some of the hash, especially since it would be with Salvador. I didn't want to refuse to smoke with him and I thought it would be interesting to become intoxicated on hash with him. Nevertheless, I remembered I hadn't smoked any marijuana for over 28 months. That was a very long time and I knew I wasn't going to smoke again now.
I thought Salvador would offer the hash cigarette to me, but instead he handed it to Walls who was at my left. Walls inhaled and it was obvious both he and Salvador had immediately become intoxicated on the hash. It must have been quite powerful. Walls offered the hash cigarette to me. I looked at it and said, "I'm not going to smoke that junk."
Salvador was sitting in the middle of the floor. I looked straight at his eyes after I had spoken. I had thought I might be a bit sheepish after refusing to smoke with him. Instead I felt just the opposite. I felt stronger and confident. It appeared to me Salvador was confused about smoking hash. As I looked at his eyes I wondered if I could possibly hypnotize him and maybe even help him.
Gradually I realized I might be feeling some of the effects of the hash myself just from the smoke in the room. Walls was lying on the floor and I put my head on his bare leg. There was nothing sexual about our touching each other and I realized it sometimes felt naturally good for me to touch someone. I became more and more relaxed, indeed quite lethargic, as I stretched out with my feet propped up on something, but slowly I began to feel pressure on the big toes of both my feet. Suddenly I snapped to attention and realized two fellows had stuck my big toes in their mouths and were biting them.
Jumping to my feet, I immediately realized that I had been dreaming and that I needed to write the dream. I had been thinking the day before how the most important act of my day was writing that day's dreams. However I was almost immediately overcome by an attack of lethargy and I lay back down simply thinking about the dream. Suddenly I felt a man (who seemed very strong and almost divine) pinching my arms as if to show how weak I was. He said something about my liking the sound of being an "international lawyer." He also mentioned something about a lawyer named Kurt McCurve. I immediately thought the name McCurve was a play on words to signify a lawyer who wasn't straight.
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