Posted by: normanlgreen | January 2, 2012

Dream from last January, raging at a giant

The school I am attending is closing. This is either sudden, which would explain my unpreparedness, or I am simply unprepared. My father has come to collect me. I have a vague recollection of his having dropped me off a short time earlier. All of my gear is stored in a tiny dorm room with curtains over the window.  The cloth yellows the mid-day light. The room is long and narrow, with two low beds built into the right side wall, opposite the door, perpendicular with the one wall with the single window. Most of my stuff is stored in the compartment under the hinged mattress. My room mate’s stuff has already been removed and the mattress is stood on end to display the empty compartment. My father is frustrated but quietly waiting out my packing. There is one huge suitcase that has never been opened – the gear I arrived with, but never used, and I have to fit the other accumulated stuff into smaller packages, shopping bags, etc.

Outside the young people drift away from the school. By the roadside, there is a black portable container. I head toward it. My father is gone. Inside the shack, a giant simpleton with a black bowl haircut has set-up something of a fun house.  It is supposed to attract kids. Keaton and a couple of other younger kids, all elementary age follow me towards it, but nothing is ready for fun. The container stands by FM 1960 in Texas.  A powerful sun shines down, but the shack  is sheltered by slash pines. A dwarf who knows our giant sees an opportunity and sets-up another container next to ours.  A temporary business district develops.

A woman arrives with a young child. The dwarf, standing at his entrance,  rolls a roundish object (not a ball) into his container, between rows of clothing racks. He smiles an artificial smile. The child, then the mother chases the ball into the box car. There is a second opening toward the back, which lead to an opening into the giant’s container, where he is slightly more prepared. My kids have gone to work for the giant. I turn back to talk with the mothers (Sherwin has joined), and while my attention is on them, the black trailer disappears. The mothers try to contact people via telephone  that is mounted to  the hollow stump of a long ago harvested tree.  I decide to hike down the FM 1960, where I see many firework stands with their black cat banners of yellow and red and black mark them as ready for Fourth of July business. I do not say anything to the mothers before I leave.

Passing by many of the businesses between me and the roadside section where I expect to find the giant and the kids, I walk through a modern music store.  Inside, racks of guitars and such and a loudspeaker system with someone singing “she’s a good-hearted woman, in love with a good-timing man”.  I consider for a moment that I should relieve the singer as I can hit the low notes more easily. I choose not to sing, and leave through another glass door and move out to the shoulder of the road where a canvass tarpaulin is draped over stacks of explosives.

I pass by this constructions of pallets as I do not see the black container.  I hear the voice of the dwarf announcing that they will be lifting a package of fireworks into the sky via a crane so that they can explode the goddess Minerva. I turn back around as the tarp is being lifted and I see that the boys – Keaton, Daniel and now Addicus (all grown to middle school age) are assisting at the fireworks stand. I dip under the tarp and spot some blond hair whipping around a corner. Angry and abusive, I shout that they all need to come out – the boys slowly shuffle into view inside the temporary structure of stacked fireworks boxes.

Near the ceiling, I spot a bit of the face and hair of the giant peaking through a gap in the stacks. I point at him and tell him to come out. While he makes his way into the central opening, I face down Addicus who is shirtless, buffed up from working out or perhaps just working, I lean into his smug face and try to spit into it, but cannot work up any saliva – still he is shocked. I rant about what these three have done to their mothers by making them worry so. The giant comes in through the same gap in the structure that I used. I face him down.  He isn’t so tall any more. I cannot get enough wind to actually yell.  My hoarse whisper is somehow more menacing as it releases very little of my rage.  I berate him for kidnapping these boys (though they seem to have gone willingly). I tell him that I am going to use the boys as bats to knock him senseless, that after I have knocked him over, I will continue to beat him about the head as I jump on his stomach until he has evacuated his bowels of his entire existence.

Though there are all the boys, the giant and at least two adult helpers (the dwarf is nowhere in sight) no one challenges me on this. I think to myself that I am more abusive as a parent than the kidnapping giant (who seems to have a gentle, if exploitative soul). I wonder if any of the forming crowd will challenge my authority – I think about the mothers still back up the road amongst the slash pines and how they do not know that I have found the kids.  What would they think of all the threats I make to their children​?


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: