melanieb

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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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[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]
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