August 9, 2016

Long, vivid, novelistic dream before waking. I had done something in the past, which I had almost successfully concealed, but circumstance was bringing it back into the light. Some old legal case that I thought had been dropped had been re-opened, and though I wasn’t the target of that investigation, it was only because nobody suspected the true source of the trouble. I don’t know what it was (it was vague to me even in the dream), but I think it may have involved my lying to the police– heroically, over a period of time–about association with a subversive organization. Documents were involved; I didn’t know whether the documents still existed, I hoped over time that luck had gone my way. There were depositions and investigations, and though I could put on a good public face, my heart was clutched by the fear that I was going to be found out. I was SO cooperative that the investigators included me on the investigation team, on the assumption that even if I wasn’t the perp, my association with that organization at one time might yield valuable information. One of the investigators was on to me, though, and she wanted to keep me close, and maybe savor the pleasure of watching me, step by step, incriminate myself. The search led us out into a wilderness area, a great field covered with snow, surrounded by a snowy dark forest. The one who suspected me was mocking me, “Now we’re about to find out the truth. We’re close now,” smiling at me in a vicious and triumphant way. I realized that if I were quick and clever, I could murder them all and run. But how to do that without suspicion falling upon me? A white bear came out of the forest and attacked us. It hit the woman who was on to me, but then we managed to drive it back into the forest, at least temporarily. The others began to panic, but I said, “We have to build a fire, to frighten the bear, and to keep her warm while she goes into shock.” None of us looked forward to ranging the dark and bear-haunted forest for firewood, but then, in the middle of the field, we found a white wooden desk. There was enough kindling lying about that we could start the fire, and then keep it fed by tearing apart the desk. As I got to work on the desk, I discovered that it was full of documents tied in tight bundles, very flammable: We were saved. Then I noticed that the documents were all the evidence against me, subversive or hateful things I’d written, reams of it, all the proof anyone needed to send me away forever, tied up in fat, neat bundles. With a hidden smile, I began feeding the bundles into the fire. Everyone was so cold and frightened they didn’t stop me, didn’t even notice what the bundles were. They were all gone and we’d started on the desk itself when a woodsman came out of the forest and explained that the bear was a nervous father worried about his cubs, and he had calmed down, and wouldn’t attack again. The others went with the suspicious woman in an ambulance that managed to pull up to the edge of the field. I sat with the woodsman, who had a pet snake that was clinging to his arm. When I petted the snake, it turned into may brilliant colors.

Hired a new yardsman, Antonio, basically because he answered his phone and got here first. He’s a roly-poly Mexican, and not a crew of handsome rednecks like the former ones, and in my shallowness I actually hesitated over that point. But his happy kid was in their beat-up truck and he did all the work himself, and I thought providence had sent me the right one first off. I always think that. Saves a lot of time. Invited the kid to look at the pond. My Spanish is just good enough to hear him say they’d just seen a pond with a crocodile in it. Turns out it was a large pond with a rubber croc, which floats about in the wind and looks very realistic. A weight off. Curled up with the cats and slept all afternoon.

Mailed Jack Batman to see if they’re done with me or not.