Dream 4 of 4

My mom and I were still in China, but now we were attending an official press release by the president, who was a 40-something woman with brown highlights. I don't remember the topic, but it may have been on the construction worker incident. As the speech came to an end, my mom warned me that the next part, a long ritual, could last for an hour. I was the only one in the large auditorium to cut out early, and thankfully no one stopped me, though I did get some odd looks.

As I walked out through the posh foyer in my tuxedo and shiny shoes, I realized the outside was a dangerous place for anyone in my clothes. I started running to the car park, which was about five blocks away. As I ran, two local twenty-something kids started running next to me. I let them pass, as they seemed to be in a race with each other. I started to pull my car keys out as I neared the car park, and immediately regretted it. The bigger of the two guys demanded I turn them over to him, and stopped me dead in my tracks. I wasn't about to give up without a fight, so we started trading strikes. I managed to block all of his punches and hit him really hard with some good body and head blows. For that brief moment, I knew it was a dream, so I didn't feel bad about hitting him. But he was a fat guy and nothing seemed to affect him. I was getting tired and it looked like he was just going to wait me out. I quickly forgot that it was dream.

Luckily, the president arrived just then and the police pulled the thug into her limo. She was nice enough to offer me a ride, and I sat in the back with the boy, who now had turned into a 10-year old white kid. He laughed at us, saying there was no punishment we could give him that would mean anything. The president turned around from the seat ahead of us and said, "Oh, is that right? How about we bring you back to South Africa?" The boy blanched and his past began playing over his face like a movie. It turns out he was born and raised there, and his family was abusive. He promised to be good, and the police said they'd let him off this time with a lesser sentence of being put in an American minimum-security prison.

By this time, our limo had become a helicopter and we landed. Instantaneously, the boy and I were transported to the basement of the prison. He began bragging about his Nintendo skills, and started playing one of the Zelda games on a SNES system. He knew all the tricks, and Scott (a friend from Madison) came in and said, wow, even I don't know that secret! It had to do with obtaining a spell that would grow a lawn that would entangle your enemies. As the boy played, the prison itself became the game, and he was holding his controller as he ran through the levels as the hero. I followed him along to one point where small red rubber balls were flying around the room. He said he hated this part because he had to run really fast through it. He made it past and I tried to follow him in, but suddenly red, yellow, and green balls started falling everywhere. Every time I got hit by a yellow ball, I would lose a life. I was down from nine to one life when the balls stopped falling. Another random hero, a big muscley guy, came in behind and told me that I could regain my lives by touching the green balls. One bounced away towards the exit, but I was lying down at that point and too tired to get up.

The boy finally reached the final boss, and I was now watching the screen again as before. Oddly, the last room resembled the press conference hall where the Chinese president had given her address earlier. Presumably, she was the "evil queen" and he cast his special lawn-growing spell on her. He was able to extract all the objects she held and transferred all her lives to him before finally winning the game.

As I walked back to my dorm room, bringing the dream cycle back to the beginning, it looked like a hotel with a long, off-white corridor with short, patterned carpeting. A room-service cart was sitting in the hallway, and I recognized it as carrying the pizza I had apparently ordered earlier. I was mad that someone had taken my pizza and I kicked the cart down the hallway and into someone's open room. I didn't even care if they got angry at me or not. My room was on the corner of the last block of rooms, facing away from the exit. As I got into bed, I realized I was dreaming again and everything became my room in real life. Except the colors were all overlaid in red and orange. Then I woke up for real and saw my room as it was.

posted by Larry at 10:52 AM