-------------- BEGIN dream-flow.v001.n126 --------------
001 - [EMAIL PROTECTED] - Re: Digest dream-flow.v001.n125
002 - "Wilkerson, Richard" <rcw - DREAM : my betrothal
Electric Dreams: Dream Flow
A fountain of dreams in Cyberspace
--------------- MESSAGE dream-flow.v001.n126.1 ---------------
From: [EMAIL PROTECTED]
Subject: Re: Digest dream-flow.v001.n125
Date: Mon, 19 Jul 1999 20:54:38 EDT
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husband drm-peace had lain to the right of the fridge if you had avoided
becoming "known"
more at www.dreamgate.com./dream/dubetz/
dreanflow bay area members,
heratheta is scheduled to be in san francisco 7/23, contact heratheta through
[EMAIL PROTECTED] for details.
--------------- MESSAGE dream-flow.v001.n126.2 ---------------
From: "Wilkerson, Richard" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
Subject: DREAM : my betrothal
Date: Tue, 20 Jul 1999 12:23:45 -0700
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Note: stan requests that his email be kept with this dream - text.
DREAM : my betrothal
=( still on vacation in germany. mark got sleepy and went to bed
early. his wife, fran, and i walked over to the kirchenweiss beer
festival which was packed with germans singing and dancing on a
wednesday night. fran found some women friends and they danced on the
tables for a couple hours. the music was a horribly performed mix of
latin swing and american rock with a german accent, but the townsfolk
knew what the words sounded like and sang along anyway. often the
singers on stage could only approximate the words to _born to be wild_
or _la bamba_. i drank some weissbeer and watched the pretty young
women from town sing and frolick, none speaking a word i could
understand. around 23:30 the3 music closed down and i went right to
bed. sleep did not come easy with a liter of fresh beer in me. )=
if it is said to be quietest just before the storm, or darkest just
before the dawn, what is it just before true happiness? perhaps i
finally know now.
the family reunion of abegail jane has been planned for several weeks
and i have been lucky to be involved through here. one by one she has
introduced me to this aunt and uncle, or that cousin. i can hardly
remember most of their names. always i have been introduced as 'a
friend', no one is supposed to know that we have been lovers for
several months, living together de facto rather than by plan or
arrangement.
my part in this reunion, besides arranging for this hall since i live
in this township, is that i promised to supply the beer. being a
homebrew master, it was easy for me to whip up a 40 gallon batch, but
the hall has some unusual requirements to pressure tap kegs into its
famous wall spigots. there not being time to cure the batch naturally
in bottles, i had to use force carbonation which meant spending several
hundred dollars on the several pressure canisters that charge this tap
system. it was more than anyone could expect me to spend, but i was
happy to do it. although her family is french in origin, most of the
uncles and a few of the aunts expressed how much the beer at these
gatherings meant to them, more like germans in that respect.
as the last of her family comes trickling into the hall, which is a
long room built down a steep hillside, i have roped some of the younger
men to help install the last pressure canister. it is a long stainless
steel tube about the width of a grapefruit and six meters long. just
before we get it attached in its downhill pointing wall socket, one of
the senior aunts, a late arrival, pulls on one of the taps behind me.
with a kerchung, the wall socket in front of me extends a metal flange
intended to open the pressure canister so the beer in the vat is driven
through the taps. since this canister is not online, the other in the
wall across the room creates a back pressure which forces the loose
canister backwards out of its slot. since the flange had only started
to open is valve, its internal pressure has no where except to escape
into its steel casing which causes its component parts to disassemble.
so the men who had been trying to help me load the thing are suddenly
catching bright stainless pieces as they fall off and the canister
jettisons backward. the last two manage to catch a heavy glass liner,
sloshing with injected beer, before it hits the floor. i doubt if it
would have broken, but it it better to have all the parts in hand to
reassemble them. it will take some time, however, to get the system
up.
oh, a minor set back. i had backup with cases of imported beers on
ice. some people do not always like my strong dopplebock. i like to
cater parties with plenty for everyone's taste.
most of the family is seated at the various little tables, each on its
own step floor with a railing. the design of the building was not to
excavate the hillside, but rather to enclose its natural steep slope
with step terraces for the chairs and tables inside. quite a nice
effect actually as it focuses the attention on the elders at the bottom
tier. abegail finally comes in at the bottom to talk with her mother.
my heart starts to surge when i catch a glimpse of her. you would
think that after these months together i would have calmed down by now.
she is normally a stunning woman just to look at, but i had not seen
her all morning with these preparations, and she is dressed in peach
colored one piece silk dress that takes my breath away just looking at
her from the distance. whatever i was doing just gets lost from my
head and the boys behind me keep clanking away with the metal parts of
the canister. i suspect everyone in the room has noticed my jaw drop
and my eyes roll out of my head the second she walked in. who could
miss it?
i am drawn down toward her several levels, just walking blind, trying
to recover my supposed detached demeanor, when my name is shouted out
behind me. "stan!"
i turn and one of the aunts, or a sister i think, has a scrap of paper
in the hand. "what is the meaning of this?" i see it is an invoice
that fell out of the canister.
"meaning of what?" someone in a lower row asks up to her.
"it says $153.76 for just this one. there is another just like it on
that other wall, not to mention the beer itself and these heavy crystal
mugs. just how much have you spent on this?" she asks me. the
receipt is passed downwards to abby's mother.
"look," i start out lamely. "the equipment is reusable. i would have
bought it sooner or later as beer master anyway so i can cater this
hall. the beer itself was made from odds and ends i keep on hand
anyway. i suspect i spent less than $70 dollars on 40 gallons that
might get consumed here today. that works out to about 30 cents a mug.
that does not sound like much to me." i neglect to mention the import
cooling in the ice chests down front.
"sounds like you are making a hit already." abby smiles at me. "i
told you keep a low profile and you are center of the attention before
we even get started." there is a little still bemused warning in her
eyes.
the rest of the gathering seems to accept my statement, not that
interested anyway. but the receipt has found its way to abby's mother
who comes over for a quiet word with me on the side.
"yes, what is the reason for this?" she asks, not meaning the price.
"just what is your relationship to our daughter?"
i swallow hard. abegail had thought her family would never ask
directly, and i am very reluctant to mislead anyone on my sentiments
here. "i know what i would like it to be." i mumble a bit.
abby's eyebrows perk up in question or warning, i can not tell which,
but i seem started now. "i would feel forever lucky to marry her..." i
stammer out. a flicker of a smile crosses her mother's face, but in a
tense jerk i turn to abby direct. somehow, my tongue comes untied, but
my heart just stops.
"abegail, if i can persuade you to marry me i will count myself
fortunate as no other. i did not intend to put you on the spot like
this in front of your mother and all, but neither can i mislead her
when asked so directly. i feel so lucky that you even look in my
direction or say my name. if you are going to dump me someday, then
this should be the time to do it. i have found it impossible to hide
my love for you here among those who also care for you. oh, abby,
either marry me or just shoot me in the head like broken horse who can
never run again."
i suppose the love smitten always end up by saying silly things. but
someone whose heart is about to fall through the floor or the ceiling
deserves a little leniency in metaphor.
now my breath stops altogether and i do not care if it ever returns or
not. her eyes have that cool fixed stare and her lips that slight
smirk frozen in time, either cruel or amused, i could never tell.
"yes, i will."
she spoke loud enough for her mother to hear her. i suspect the
assembled guest had hushed to try to hear whatever i was saying quietly
to abegail jane, but i will never know. the sound of empty space came
crashing down like the red sea on pharaoh's army. someone put a fork
down on a plate. an empty mug was moved an inch. someone whispered a
syllable to a child. my heart beat just once more. she had said yes.
i have never imagined what happiness was like until this moment. i had
never known it to be missing or my life in anyway lacking, but now
something good clicked in my chest and the sweetness of the air almost
overwhelmed me. i struggled to remain conscious. i probably looked
like a drooling idiot hardly able to stand, but all i could see was a
clearly pleased smile show on her face as if for the first time. i
thought i had loved her before, but now i know i have finally gotten it
right.
her mother nodded once as if checking something off on a list and left
without saying a word, going over to the table for her husband. soon
there are shouts and laughter all around the room. i hardly notice.
abby comes up close and murmurs with a coy tone in her voice. "and
what if we have children?"
"two." i can't take my eyes off her, my chest is pounding, pounding,
pounding. "i have always thought two would be just right."
"and if a third or a fourth turn up?"
"anyone who comes from you will be beautiful by right and no one can
deny beauty its due place in the world." we had never spoken like this
before. perhaps unchained happiness makes everything just sound like
shakespeare wrote it.
the rest of the afternoon and evening was a swirling miasma of people
and beer and singing. her father was always looking forward to
grandchildren and was eager for the news. every female cousin, married
or unmarried, swarmed around her like moths wanting a piece of the new
light she seemed to radiate. me, i was like an ox dumbfounded being
led down the path by well meaning relatives.
finally, about an hour before midnight, the owner of the hall shows up
to tell me that our rental is up. he needs us to leave soon as another
party is about to arrive. this sounds a little odd to start something
so late, but most of the people had left an hour ago anyway. i am
walking around enjoying the shell shock.
outside in the dark, i see a line of people dressed in japanese
ceremonial kimonas and robes. i signal for abby to join me so we can
leave. the first of the japanese to enter place two little infants on
the terrace in front of the entrance. everyone who enters bows to
these two tykes, and one of the babies standing on its legs (but it is
surely too small to be walking) is saying things to each who enter.
"your karma is mixed with indigestion." or "the souls of your feet are
confused." little stock of phrases like that in a tiny, mechanical
voice. what are these curious little things? they look like real
babies from the distance but act like little mechanical buddas, wind
them up with a key.
as i turn off the final pressure valve on the tap system, a light skin
asiatic woman steps from behind a post. she looks more korean than the
japanese here. some other minor race from over there anyway. "those
are the ribawn infants." she tells me, nodding to the odd babies.
"remember, this place belongs to intermatsuu."
i look over at those babies, each bowing and making weird fortune
cookie statements. when i look back, the asiatic woman has vanished.
stepped back behind the post i assume, but i do not have time to look
as abegail comes up with an open box. she has a small doll inside, in
several pieces to be assembled. it is ornately carved. "ready to go?"
she asks me. am i ever.
we file past the line of robed figures coming in the door. i get a
closer glimpse of the weird babies. they are both dressed in one piece
zip ups so only their heads and hands actually show. i don't know what
is going on with them, but it is none of my business.
we walk arm in arm down the hill and to a house on the flat where i
should turn in the keys i was given. out of some bushes by the road
comes my father. "is this what you have been doing? secretly brewing
beer and hanging out with those foreign people?"
"i did not think that my brewing beer was a secret." i smile directly
at him and he is taken aback a bit. nothing can conceal my joy.
"abegail and i are going to get married."
"oh yes? and what do you think about this?" he throws a ceramic plate
on the ground and breaks it with his heel. it used to be the stand to
a favorite statue i had made in art classes. i think he is testing
me.
i just smile bigger. "we have not set a date or made any arrangements
yet. i hope you can be there."
he seems satisfied. "i will be there." he finally smiles and leaves.
he has ever seen me this happy.
"what was that?" asks abby pointing to the broken plate.
"just part of a doll i made once. this one is much better."
indicating to the disassembled one in the box.
inside i meet the tavern owner. i try to give him back the key but he
has a worried look on his face. "i want you two to go back in there
and bring out those two ribawn. do not let anyone prevent you. they
should not be there. they are an abomination."
this sounds a little odd, but abegail says sure and puts down her doll.
i start to follow her out the back way and the service entrance at the
bottom of the hall. the owner hands me what looks like a rough wooden
staff, highly polished, but i see that it divides in half and is
actually a katana, the samurai great sword. i am not sure what use
this has for the ceremonies inside, but i take it. perhaps i am to
exchange that for the babies.
the silk robed japanese people are darkly arranged around the sides of
the hall as if avoiding the dimly lit middle. i have no idea what they
are saying to each other as we pass up the central isle unopposed but
clearly upsetting to the participants. at the top, abby takes up the
smaller of the two infants which has been less active than the other.
people have stopped coming in from outside so maybe their role as
greeting dispensers is done. i pick up the larger ribawn.
at once i can tell something is really wrong. he is much heavier than
expected, particularly bottom heavy. "is that one really heavy?" i ask
abby. "this one feels like he has a load of steel crap in his
diapers."
kneeling down, i lay mine over on its back and unzip his one piece to
check his pants. inside is a horror. all of the babies' internal
organs have been scooped out and replaced by a foul corroded metal box
to which the head has been attached. around the metal box is a stringy
green and yellow mucus with some white pus globules floating in it.
suddenly the box sounds a list of its eight or nine greetings, one
after another. "your karma is mixed with indigestion." "no one will
know your mother lied." "the slightest chance will bring you disaster."
and so on.
"stan, i think we should take these children to a hospital." abby tells
me. she has not looked into the guts bag of mine yet. an elderly
japanese man with a thin white beard comes over, looking worried. i
zip up the ribawn's garment which apparently keeps the fluids around
the box. the baby's lips move spasmodically.
"i do not think there is anything a doctor can do for these infants."
i tell her. "you know what this is about." i say to the elderly man.
"how long does a baby in this condition live?"
he looks around trying to avoid answering. "about three months. the
one you have was prepared for this service tonight 54 days ago. the
one she has has new technology and is expected to survive three years.
we have never had a ribawn that long. we have been working on the life
expectancy problem for centuries."
"well, i think we have to take these two to a hospital and let the men
of western science see what has been done here, one way or another." i
say.
"it is unfortunate that you try this." he mutters, departing into the
shadows.
suddenly a fully clad black ninja drops down from the ceiling, short
sword drawn. i step over the ribawn on the floor to allow abegail to
scoop it up with her other. i pull out the katana i was given. guess
now i know why. by god, i will permit nothing get close to her
tonight.
the ninja attacks and somehow i parry and back slash, removing his leg
at the knee. he makes no sound as he falls to the floor, clutching his
spraying stump. two more come at me, this time out of the shadows.
one is slightly ahead of the other, so i try for his wrist holding his
sword. i miss as he jumps aside, but my blade catches him across the
abdomen, his guts spilling out in a gush. he has gotten in the way of
his companion. i grit my teeth and lunge forward, piercing the chest
of the second ninja as he steps around. i do not know where these
fighting skills are coming from as i have not fenced in years, but i
will fight with every fiber in me before i let them get to abegail
jane, my bethrothed.
together we start backing toward the entrance just up a little way.
five more assailants seem to pop up on the sides, but they hold back.
suddenly, out of the middle directly in front of me, the shadows sort
of congeal in an odd way. a tall thin spectral figure appears, wearing
a thin white spotted silk robe that blows franticly even though the air
in here is still and thick.
"comes rikayu!" the five on the sides say in unison like a chant.
a laugh comes out of the robe and under its hood i can dimly see a
skull, bleached bone white. oh shit. a demon.
giving myself up for dead, i charge forward hoping the surprise of a
frontal assault will throw him off long enough for abby to get those
pathetic babies out of here. it seems i was not meant for true
happiness afterall, but at least i had a few moments of it. i give up
the joy in my heart to desperation.
the demon does not move at all. the end of the sword cracks through
its jaw and buries into the cranial cavity. still the demon laughs in
higher and higher frequencies. twisting the sword i break off a chunk
of the skull. still it cackles insanely. i strike forward a couple
more times breaking away most of the skull but nothing seems to affect
rikayu's menace.
then i start saying like a war cry, "i did not call him, but still he
comes."
rikayu stops laughing and starts paying serious attention to me.
"i did not call him. i did not call him." i say over and over, the
bloodied sword gripped uselessly between me and the demon. "i did not
call him, but still he comes."
behind me and abegail, the universe cracks open just a little and a
brilliant beam of white light floods in driving away any trace of gloom
and darkness. brighter and brighter it grows and the demon rikayu
begins to crumble with a mournful cry. the ribawn howl in agony of
what has been done to them. the followers along the way begin to drop
like flies. lord intermatsuu, the god, has arrived at his place as
promised.
=( i woke out of breath, aching tense shoulders, but still i had a full
measure of that sustained joy in my chest. 02:00ish i suspect. i lay
there for a while just savoring that feeling of true happiness, however
briefly experienced. the real abegail jane broke my heart, just tore
it apart, when she left me, she was quite young and inexperienced in
relationships. all these years i have dreamed of her with regret and
longing, but this one experience almost makes up for all that. this
feels like the redemptive value that religions milk out of some people
and call it supernatural, but to me it seems part of this mechanism of
dreamwork i have been exploring. i note the appearance of demons and
gods just after the shower of emotive release. i suspect that is a
cultural reflex, i certainly have no tendency to credit rikayu, or
intermatsuu with any external reality although i can see how more
controlled cognitive process tapping into this reservoir with focal
godlings or saints might convince someone less familiar with their
mental processes. i caught just a glimpse of that happiness i happened
to miss all those years ago, and i am glad for even that fragment. )=
</bigger>
. [EMAIL PROTECTED]
=== qui non est hodie cras minus aptus erit
| | who not is today, tomorrow less suitable will be
--- -- Ovid _Remedia Amoris_ i 94
</x-rich>
--------------- END dream-flow.v001.n126 ---------------
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