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I woke up at 4:55 am from a hell of a dream:

I forget how it began, but I remember I was returning to the Wilkinsburg house. It was early morning -- dawn. The street looked really different -- big, old trees, not many houses, a park maybe. I remember one big, old tree, in particular. I remembered that Bob had chained his bike to it when I left (earlier in the dream?). Upon my return I could see other bikes nearby -- chained to parking meters maybe? -- but his was the only one chained to this tree. At first it looked like someone had tried to steal the tube & tire -- presumably because the rest of the bike was chained up too well. The bike chain was around the trunk of this huge tree, and the bike, which I remembered as being close to the tree when I'd left, was pulled as far out from the tree as the chain would allow -- part of what made me think someone had tried to steal it. As I approached, there were other people standing around the tree, looking down and talking. I walked up to ask what had happened with Bob's bike. A woman with brown hair recognized me from the night before (see -- I knew there was more to this dream that I'd forgotten). She asked "Your name's James, right?" and I said no, it was Hope. I looked up at the tree, at what they were all looking at, and saw Bob's bike again, only this time, not only were the tube and tire missing from the front wheel, but the whole damn wheel was smashed -- it was as if Bob had decided to store his bike by smashing the whole fucking wheel around a branch. The spokes were all smashed and the bike was hanging from the branch. It was creepy, though it struck me as less of an accident metaphor than as something Bob might do out of anger or ... I don't know ... a desire to be weird, or artistic, or something.

Anyway, just then I heard Bob call my name. I looked down the block and I could see him hanging out of his window. I waved my goodbyes to the people at the tree and went running down the block. The Wilkinsburg house was backwards, though I didn't realize this in the dream. The doors were on the left, not the right, the rooms were on the right, not the left, his bedroom was in the front, not the back, etc. Anyway, I ran up and went in his door ... he came to the top of the stairs. I asked which steps were busted, remembering that he'd told me that some of the steps were broken (is this true? Maybe -- I forget), except they all looked fine now. We got upstairs and went into his room. It was freezing. I'd forgotten what a fiend he was for air conditioning. I complained I was cold, laughed at how things never changed between us, and went to the bed to huddle under a blanket. He came and sat down next to me, bared his teeth, and chomped his choppers. His teeth -- including his cracked, later missing, tooth -- were perfect. "They're beautiful" I said, and he grinned and bounced away. He came back to the bed again and this time I just stared at him. I even said so, said "I know it's morbid, but geez, I just want to look at you."

There was a mirror hanging on the wall on the opposite side of the room. I'd been vaguely aware of it, vaguely aware of Bob's reflection in it, but I hadn't paid it much attention. Now, however, I noticed a second reflection, and it wasn't mine. It was Jonas, and it looked like he was walking into the room. I stood up, wanted Jonas to come in so Bob could meet him, and also so I could say goodbye before he left town. I started calling his name, but it was clear from the mirror that he wasn't hearing me at all. I walked towards the doorway near the mirror, but Jonas' reflection walked away. I noticed that Bob's reflection, however, just stood there and stared at me from the mirror, not moving at all. "Bob?" I said, but he didn't reply. I turned back around toward the rest of the room and the bed, but Bob was nowhere to be seen. "Bob?!?" I asked, a little louder. I turned back around. His reflection was still staring at me from the mirror. "Bob?! Bob! Bob!" I started yelling louder and louder. I was vaguely aware that I might wake up Milon, Bob's downstairs neighbor, but I absolutely didn't care. I was running into the hallway now, heading for the stairs, yelling louder and louder "Bob! Bob!!! BOB!!!"

I woke myself up because I started actually yelling his name.


( 8 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 2nd, 2004 02:59 am (UTC)
I hope you're sleeping now, babe.
Apr. 2nd, 2004 06:44 am (UTC)
I did get some more sleep, and that's a good thing. I did, however, also have an epilogue to the Bob dream:

I was in the same house, and was looking for Dan, Bob's roommate. I found Dan downstairs in some sort of utility closet, I believe looking for a mop and bucket. Milon came into the room and I apologized for waking him up, said I would clean up the mess.
Apr. 2nd, 2004 07:21 am (UTC)
Well, at least that was a slightly less noisy epilogue.
Apr. 2nd, 2004 05:25 am (UTC)
Oh dear, that's some scary stuff. I know his memory is very fresh for you and that the ones closest to you (too often named Bob, it seems) visit you regularly in dreams. Big transatlantic hugs for calm sleep.

(I still sleep with the dream pillow you gave me and Z all those years ago.)
Apr. 2nd, 2004 06:43 am (UTC)
I remember. I bought one for myself at the same time, and it is nailed to the wall directly above my sleeping head.

Wait -- that makes it sound like my head is nailed to the wall ...
Apr. 2nd, 2004 06:57 am (UTC)
indeed it does...
as if you have a waking head nailed somewhere else - above the TV set, maybe.
Apr. 2nd, 2004 07:01 am (UTC)
Re: indeed it does...
OK, now that's really weird, because what I actually do have above the TV set is a little mini-shrine to Chicago Bob (which is mainly a bunch of pictures of him and a card he sent me once where he wrote that he'd probably be dead without me. Um, yea.).

Now of course you've actually seen this, except that you saw this back in 1999, and I'd be really surprised if you still remembered that now, five years later.

Subconscious, anyone?
Apr. 2nd, 2004 07:17 am (UTC)
I vaguely remember what your living room looks like - mostly the stacks of videotapes. I'm thinking at the time I wouldn't have looked so closely at the walls as to notice your Bob shrine and commit it to memory. Subconscious indeed.

( 8 comments — Leave a comment )

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