Sunday, July 11, 2010
I had a dream that a college friend and a grad school friend were both pregnant. We were all living in my childhood home in south carolina. I dream about this house every few months. In this instance, the home was in a somewhat remote location and in a state of semi-abandonment. Room flowed into room, and there were random people there -- acquaintances from college -- and there was a type of war; an impending army that would gather and descend on us. But first there was a baby. My college friend had given birth. I was surprised because she never looked pregnant, but she asked me to come see her baby. We went into the yard, and entered -- on our hands and knees -- a tight-knit grove of pine tree. We sat cross-legged on the dirt, and then a large raccoon and a smaller raccoon came into the grove. It turned out that her baby was the little raccoon, who could actually stand up and speak and was overall very impressive and polite. "You're so advanced for a baby!" I exclaimed. My friend interjected that this was true of all raccoon babies -- they develop quickly, and their raccoon form keeps them safe from soldiers. I wondered whether it was the raccoon or my friend who had given birth, and how did it work? This thought was interrupted by the approaching army. We emerged from the grove and the whole yard was filled with people exiting my old house and heading into the hills. The trick was to go underground there -- to hide and disguise ourselves. When the army arrived, they crawled all over everything -- they were like insects, beetles. But they did not see us, did not notice us. Years later, a scout from the army returned. By then we had constructed a whole village from abandoned car bodies and scrap metal and house parts. No, we told the scout, we had no idea what happened to the people who had lived in my old house. We'd been here, outside of the conflict, living quietly with our dogs and foraging the hills for food. We did not know anything about anyone else. At this point most of us had gathered underground. When we heard the scout's footsteps above us fade away, we came up for air and light.