melanieb

[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I’m taking a walking field-trip with my daughter’sclass. Our departure from the school isalong a road several miles south of the real-life school and it feels weird tobe taking this route for a walking field-trip. [/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]We head out and all is initially fine but 4 of the childrenin the class are a little developmentally deficient and these 4 kids run outinto the street. Cars pass by them on both sides as I’m screaming at them tocome back to the side of the road. I realize they probably can’t get backsafely and I know I’m going to have to go get them. I’m preparing myself to dothis when the one closest to me, from the middle of the street, stares up at meand then runs across the street narrowly avoiding being struck. I’m amazed sheand the others made it across the road as they appear to be about 4 years ofage despite being a part of my daughter’s class.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I finally get a break in the traffic and make my way across,chasing them along the road towards another class on a field trip. These kidsare older and have come by bus. I find myself envious of their field-trip.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]The children blend into the group and disappear from mysight. I don’t know where they are and I’m frantically trying to think of a wayto get them separated from the group. An idea suddenly springs to mind and Isay, “Who here is from [school], raise your hand?” I’m thinking the younger kids will respond andI will be able to pick them out of the group.[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]My expectations are dashed when all the kids raise theirhands. I have encountered a class of older children from my daughter’s schooland I recognize none of them. Not being daunted by this I decide the kids musthave gotten onto the bus. As the class boards I go in behind them, asking theteacher if they mind if I do a search. The teacher is agreeable and allows meto walk the aisle of the bus looking for them. Sadly I can’t find them.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]Before I can turn around the bus driver closes the doors andstarts driving down the road. I think, “Oh. Okay. I guess I’ll get off when wepass my class walking down the road.” Again my expectations are shattered when he drives right past the classand I set my new goal for the next block. I tell the driver he passed my groupand at first he seems to ignore me. I repeat myself, speaking a little moreforcefully and he slams on the brakes. I grab on to a pole in an attempt tostabilize myself but I lose my grip. My body slides forward to the front of thebus where I grab on to another pole to keep myself from smashing into thedashboard. I lose my grip again and roll into the front console as the buscomes to a final stop. [/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Glaring at the driver I make my way off the bus and start runningback towards my group. As I approach I still can’t see the lost kids and otheradults are still looking for them. I tell them I will keep on looking for themcloser to where we started.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]Down the road I find myself on a dirt track, an unpaved roadthrough the forest heading out to Enchanted Rock, a state park 80 miles west ofAustin. The kids are now forgotten and Iam climbing up a wooded hill, more of asmall cliff than anything, on my way to the campsite. I’m with my dad and someof his friends, people I do not recognize. All are carrying packs of gear.[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]At the crest of the cliff is a rocky ledge with some bulkytree-roots running along it. Each of us has to climb over this ridge and turnaround to help the next climber. I turn to help my dad over the root. As I do athought comes to mind.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“This is the spot where you made a strong promise to me.” AsI say this to him I look down at the watch on his wrist as though I expect himto pass it on to me someday. The moment seems significant but I can’t entirelyfigure out why. I help him up and we continue to the campsite.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The spot we camp at is beautiful, a cliff overlooking thelake hundreds of feet below with spotty signs of habitation visible only aslights in the darkness. It had not been dark previously but now the setting isat night. The stars are visible above and my surroundings are illuminated as ifby a bright full moon though I do not see one in the sky.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Everything seems peaceful until the silence is broken by asmall government helicopter which has come to spy on us. The helicopter isactually miniature, about the size of a bread-box though it has sophisticatedcontrols and surveillance cameras that can see in the dark. Everyone scramblesto avoid being hit by the rotors.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Why is the government concerned with us? I can’t imagine thereasoning considering the crowd I’m with, none of whom are former agents orcurrent spies. Thinking this I suddenly realize the helicopter is there for me.I know I must be the one under suspicion and the knowledge spurs me to action.I duck below the edge of the cliff, a small overhanging ledge providing me somecover from the cameras that can only see horizontally. I find myself looking upat the small helicopter as it rotates around to find me. I evade it easily.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I become lucid and realize this is a dream. The helicoptercan’t hurt me and I decide to just reach up and grab it. It feels solid in myhand, unlike some dream objects, and it vibrates like a gas-powered toy. As Idisable it the rotors stop and the machine becomes a mere hunk of plastic andmetal in my hand. I know the agency hunting me will come looking for theirsurveillance toy and attempt to figure out what happened to both it and me so Ilet everyone know we will have to leave.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]In the morning I am talking to my dad as everyone packs up.I’m playing with the helicopter, extending the telescoping antenna andcollapsing it. I look at it and say, “I wish I could make it work again.”[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]In response my dad tosses me a battery pack for it,something he had removed during the night. I had willed that to happen,something I knew as the battery landed in my hand. I love how things work indreams, I think. My dad continues to pack out gear as I wake up.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]

[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I am standing in an office building. The walls are thetypical granite paneling, and lighting is subdued but just enough to be noticedover the ambient light coming in the front windows. I am an agent, for someunknown agency, and I have been discovered in the building. Behind me and to myright is a security agent of the building, dressed in a dark suit, standingwith his hands crossed in front of his stomach. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The man talking to me has short blonde hair, and looks alittle like an asshole. He’s thin but not sickly, and wears glasses and awhitish-yellow shirt. He is grinning almost maniacally and seems almost excitedI was caught, because his plans for me are certainly evil.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]“Take her down to the lower levels, and show her what wehave in store.” The blonde man sneers this last part, as if to emphasize howmuch I will hate it down there.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I am led off by the agent and as we wait for the elevatordown I find myself too close to a concrete ledge with no protective barrier.For some reason, my leg is dangling over the side, and I feel slightly anxiousto pull myself back up and prevent my fall. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]I kind-of skip over the elevator ride down and suddenly findmyself at the bottom of the tower/office building. I am able to see all thesupport structure for the building, braces and beams, all filling up acavernous basement area which is illuminated by large, rectangular lights andgreen lasers. The lasers are originating from the lights themselves, and I takea moment to ponder their function. It never becomes clear but it looksimportant, and it certainly make an impression. I decide it’s just an oddchoice of decoration and move on.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]x I am not indoors as expected but in an exterior space,hundreds of feet below ground surface, staring up at the tower which is supposedto be one of the tallest buildings around. Looking up at it, the structure isindeed immense, and I find myself in awe of its construction. Somehow thisdoesn’t seem like the torture I expected.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]The agent, which had been following me, quietly slips into thebackground, and this seems like a good time to make my get-away. Running alongthe basement level I come to a more inhabited area, surrounded by offices,shops, and an escalator leading up. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Instead of taking the obvious escape route I duck into anoffice on my left. The office is empty, as is the attached conference room andthis suits me as I scramble around frantically looking for the rosemary breadfor the mice. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Scattered around the conference room are several baskets ofsliced bread pieces, all of which are quite yummy. One is a sourdough, anothera multi-grain, but I still can’t find the one I need. After searching throughfour baskets I finally come to the basket I need, which contains a variety ofbread I identify as rosemary. It has the appearance of a sourdough loaf slicedinto ½-inch pieces, all buttered and covered in herbs. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Calibri][SIZE=3]I taste a couple pieces, and it is quite good. Rememberingthat the mice need this bread I grab a half-dozen pieces and shove them in oneof the pockets of the smock I am now wearing. With nothing further to keep me here I run out of the office and downthe hall.[/SIZE][/FONT]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]As I reach the end of the hall I find myself in the thirdaisle of a toy store. My daughter is here and she is cutting out pictures froma catalog, some sort of project for school. The pictures she is cutting are oftoys she likes as well as images of babies, and I offer to help. [/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]
[SIZE=3][FONT=Calibri]Taking up the scissors I begin to cut. There seem to be alot of people around and their commotion adds to the frantic feeling of the situation,and I cut faster. I know this is somehow important but I don’t recall herhaving this project assigned in school. Fortunately, the dream ends before Ibecome more impatient with my inability to cut a straight line.[/FONT][/SIZE]
[FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=3][/SIZE][/FONT]