"I Gott’a Stop Eating a Hunk
of Cheese Before Bed
By Ron Stultz
20 October 2004
5am
Dreams. Oh, how I have come to hate dreams. Slather my brain with drugs before laying
down each night to ensure I have only have the dead calm sleep of deep, deep
space but tonight, today, a 2 reeler.
Reel
1, Scene 1. Am in front yard waiting for some friends to
arrive as we are going on a trip to some casino someplace. As I wait, impatiently, I walk over to the
electric pole which is in the yard, and check out the piece of wood which is
wedged in at the bottom and which has always bothered me for some reason. Just does not look right. Anyway, I kick at
the wedge and it breaks and I lean over and pull it out of its space beside the
pole and find a hole has now been left beside the pole in the ground. Well, at least that stupid wedge is gone.
I
begin to walk around the yard waiting again and when I turn around, the
telephone pole, without a sound of any kind,
has leaned way over and is now in a 30 degree angle off the road. It has not fallen onto the road and no wires
have been pulled loose or broken but obviously the pole now has a problem and I
know it was that dam wooden wedge.
Just
then an electric company truck comes down the street and passes me by, not even
noticing the dangling electric pole. I
yell at them and they stop and backup their truck and get out to start repairs.
(Quick
transition to scene 2 of reel 1). Friends have arrived for casino trip and now too some neighbors
to watch telephone\electric pole repair work and all have wondered across the
street to where there is a memorial bench in an neighbor’s yard to her recently
deceased husband Jim. Anyway, folks
begin to set down and I get in line to find my place when all of a sudden out
of nowhere, there is Jim, the deceased husband. At first I am taken back that he is there as I sure he is dead
but no one else seems to even notice he is there and or are bothered by his
appearance. Anyway, I begin talking to
him and say something like, “Aren’t you dead ?” and in his straight forward
Vermont style way of talking, he turns to me and says, “Well, so too will you
be in less than a year”.
At
this point, I make a leap out of this dream and land into another one but it is
only the second reel of the same dream.
Reel
2, Scene 1.
My friends and I are at some small time casino on the road to our final
destination and I do some gambling but mostly notice the rough crowd in the
place, eating and talking.
Reel
2, Scene 2. I am in a hallway, narrow, white walls, with lots of doors on the right side and I
am walking somewhere. Ahead of me, I
notice a shorter version of me, bald, white shirt, dress plants and as he opens
one of the many doors, I see a pistol get pulled out of his pants and raised as
he enters the room. I do not see who is
in the room but when the door closes, I hear the muffled sounds of gun shots
through a pistol silencer. Many
shots. Professional killing.
I
take the very next door, hoping to escape from any harm and hoping the killer
did not see or sense me behind him but no sooner am I in the room but the door
opens and in comes the killer, gun raised at me and I hear the first shot and
feel it hit.
Reel
2, Scene 3. I am still in the room but now it is filled
with my friends who are all milling around.
I am startled that they seem to be taking no action on my behalf. I have been shot, only God and the killer
knows, how many times. I turn to one
and yes, I am standing and say, “Hey, what about some help here?” “Hospital maybe or medic call?” But one of
them turns to me and says, “ It would do no good as you are dead.”. “We checked your pulse and you don’t have
any.”
What? Here I am standing, talking to this
group who obviously see me and can hear me, telling me that I am dead. Am I really dead and only dreaming they are
there?
I continue to plead for medical care as I know, I must be alright to be
conscious and standing and talking with them but all my begging goes on death
ears.
Frustration.
Jump
out of this dream into a semi awake state and up out of bed.
No
more dreaming for this night and really can’t take any more drugs to ensure I
could go back to sleep and not fall into a Reel 3 of the same dream.
I really got to stop eating a chuck of cheese at bedtime.