Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Me and My Fido

Last night I dreamed that I was the cool 1950s teen-aged daughter of a 1920s mobster and a 1970s hippie. They were not represented by my real parents at all.  He was the quintessential mobster and she the ideal of a hippie, as stereotypically as you can envision them.

We had just moved to the beach and I was rocking my huge red poppy fascinator with my cute 1950s bikini. My dad was wearing pin stripe swimming trunks from his era. My mom was wearing flowers in her hair, a bikini top and bell bottoms, meditating and solidifying the outside edges of her above ground containerless aquarium. 

It was awesome. It was about knee high and she'd made it two "layers" that followed the contours of the concrete it was hovering over. The inner layer was fresh water, and had a couple of giant grouper patrolling it. The outer edge was salt water and had a shark and two mini half gators that could walk through the 'wall' of the water out to land. Their snouts were half as long as a normal gator, as were their tails, and their bodies, because they only had front legs. 

My dad was showing me how to catch and hold their mouths so you could pet them like dogs and the one I was holding/ petting was cooing like a dog enjoying a good scritching. All the while my mother was psychically cleaning her aquariums and holding them in stasis. 

Suddenly, 1970s thugs showed up in their gas guzzling ugly brown chase cars, wearing open neck butterfly collar t-shirts and really big shades, with trunks full of guns and bullets blazing. Mom mediated herself intangible so bullets would pass right through harmlessly. Dad whipped a Tommy gun out of the back pocket of his swim suit and they had a serious bout of gun fire, while I dodged into the azaleas my mother had already made bullet proof (as a precaution being knowingly married to a mobster). 

When they left, they stole our pool net that my mom used to gently lift her fish out of her hovering dual aquarium. There was nothing special about it except that it was entirely eco friendly and had been hand made by local Guatemalan children when we'd lived there and had extreme sentimental value to my mom and could not be easily replaced.  So I went after them and snuck into the house they were using as base of operations. 

All I wanted to do was get my mom's fish net, so I snuck past them and grabbed it, but the dozen of them caught me in the act, so I bludgeoned them with the tall bookcase it had been on, just knocking them unconscious. It dropped all their weapons into a jumble on the floor. All the bullet clips were knocked out of the guns. 

As I picked their trophy (my mom's fish net) back up, they started to come to, so I punched them all. It took care of all except the leader, who was a giant beast of a man with a thick jaw and tight curls, who sat up and grabbed a hand gun. While he was trying to quickly grab the right clip for it, I grabbed a semi automatic from the pile and loaded my chamber faster. 

I rapidly shot him in the head four times before he pulled off a single round that should have killed me...But I realized I'd learned my mother's safety intangibility and it had phased harmlessly through me. He was dying but he wasn't dead yet as he swore and pulled out a rocket launcher. As I fled the building, he was laughing maniacally that he might be dying, but I would have to run from him and would die in little bits any way. 

I faked a run to the right and when he pulled the trigger, I caught the rocket and flung it back to him, then dove into the neighbor's pool with my mother's net. The get away house exploded with all the thugs inside while I swam harmlessly and safely, way under the surface of the water and escaped the blowback of the explosion. 

In retrospect, I realize that the direction of houses was staggered.  One house would face the street (in this case, the thugs), but on each side was the back yard of the neighbors with the front of their house on the backyard side of the thugs' house.  The entire row of them were like this.

When I came up to the surface, the neighbors had all just come out  from their mansions to see what all the fuss was and we decided to have a pool party.  After much laughter and swimming and watching of the police as they cleaned up thug bits and having a good time with hundreds of my new neighbor friends, drinking juice out of coconuts with cute little paper umbrellas, I climbed out of the water and took my mother's net back home. 

I leaned down to pet one of our half gators who'd excitedly come to greet me (I was considering naming it Fido) when I suddenly woke up in the dark. I rolled over and reached out to my husband because I thought his sitting up quickly must have woken me, and it looked like he was just sitting there, startled out of a nightmare or by heartburn-- but it turned out to just be shadows. He was actually sound asleep and laying beside me, and it was the dog dreaming and scritching the carpet that had woken me.




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