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July 1992

Jul 7 - Jul 14 - Jul 24

July 7, 1992

I was in a prison in China. I don't know how I knew it was China, I just knew. I don't recall seeing any bars or walls or guards or anything like that that would justify me being in a jail, but I just knew I was, or at least had the impression that I was in prison. There came a time when I attempted to make an escape. William Gorgenburg from work was there, and he and I traveled together through some woods with two other people. One of them was Jethro and the other was a woman and although it may have been Lisa, I'm not really sure who it was. The four of us traveled through these woods that kind of resembled the woods on the land where I grew up on the top of South Hill. These woods, apparently, were the prison. I distinctly remember a patch of woods that reminded me of the swamp by the chain link fence that separated our woods from the highway on the other side. William and I were told by the woman (Lisa) and Jethro that we should go down the hill to the swamp. For some reason, I had a feeling that Jethro was trying to get rid of William and I. I had some snowshoe-like things on my feet. I slid down the hill and into the swamp. The things on my feet helped me to skid along the surface of the water so I wouldn't sink. I was surprised I was able to stay afloat. I did a U-turn and paddled with my hands, steering myself to shore without getting wet at all. Then it was William's turn. He had much smaller things on his feet that kind of looked like roller skates. He slid down the hill and was also able to keep afloat while paddling with his hands and steering to shore. Once we were both at the bottom of the hill by the swamp, we looked up into the brush above us where Jethro and this woman was. They were partially hidden by the shrubbery there and I had the feeling that they weren't going to desert us, but then they took this chance to get away from us as quick as they could. They ran off into the shrubbery, sure we were unable to follow adequately, but I was right behind them. I ran to where Jethro was and he was inside a strange conglomeration in the brush, something that resembled circles and spirals about two feet round in diameter. At first I thought these were odd shaped vines or bushes that had grown densely together, but the more I tried to penetrate them the less they resembled plant life, and the more they began to take on the consistency of metal bands or twisted bars. It was hard at first, to try to find a way through these spiral bars, and it was like Jethro knew how to get through them but I didn't. I'm not sure if I figured it out or if I just happened to be in the right place at the right time, but there was a long, pointy bar that slid into place among these other spiral bars, and it was like the key in the right lock. Something clicked into place, and because the long skinny bar speared through the other many spirally bars, this opened a door. This door, in front of the spirals in the woods, was the door to a bus, like a school bus or Greyhound bus. I then realized that this was the end. There was a bus driver and I saw him turn that weird handle-bar thing that opened school bus doors. I expected this to be some kind of trick, that this was too easy and there was still more to accomplish before we escaped, but there wasn't. Not hesitating, Jethro and I (William and Lisa no longer with us) stepped off the bus. The feeling was that if you got this far, then you deserved to be free. Not hesitating, Jethro and I walked down the steps and off the bus. We were outside and continued walking. There were woods around us, and maybe a road, but there were also lots of other people walking in the same direction as we were among the forest. Jethro, or I, made sure to mention that you couldn't loiter, which meant that if you didn't continue walking, then you would get arrested. Just who would arrest us, I wasn't sure, but it would be the police from whatever country we were walking in; it may have been Germany, Sweden, Turkey, or China. I had a feeling that we were constantly being watched so that if we even stopped walking for a second, then we would be arrested. The next thing I remember is Jethro and I talking to a guy who was sitting by a bus that was either the same one we rode on, or just another one that was at the bus terminal where the one we rode on was at. He was an older guy, perhaps 45 to 50, and sat in front of one of the busses. I think he was wearing a flannel shirt and perhaps a snowcap, pulled up to fit atop his head. He was scruffy, with a several day old mop of gray whiskers. He was saying something about how Stephan had come to die. What he said, I wasn't really sure, although I could remember what it was immediately after I awoke from this dream. What he said about Stephan wasn't a surprise, because apparently Stephan was with us at some time when we were in prison. Also, he apparently died somehow, but we weren't sure until this guy sitting by the bus explained it to us. He said something about how "...they killed Stephan" or something like that. I remember him saying this at first, and then we went away. Later, I said that I was still unsure of what the guy actually said so I said that I wanted to hear it again, so I approached him and told him to repeat what he had said earlier but to explain it more carefully instead of just using vague references. The man then told us again, more clearly this time, but I still can't remember exactly what he said. However, I did know that he was telling us something about how Stephan was killed, perhaps by the guards in the prison where we were, or by some type of foreign military authority that presided over the place. Determined on finding out for myself, myself and the rest of us (Jethro and maybe Lisa and someone else) went looking for Stephan behind enemy lines. We came across a cave on the side of a mountain. I think we walked around it for a while and didn't really see anything, but then after we were out of it, we turned around and there, lying on the floor of the cave face down in the dirt, was Stephan' body. I remember the feeling of horror I had, and suddenly this dream was a nightmare. There was a slight concern as to why we didn't see the body the first time, but that didn't last long as concern for Stephan took over. It was somehow obvious that Stephan' face had been cut completely off. His head was face down on the ground, but it was completely flat against the dirt, no face, nose or any other features sticking out to prop the face sideways. In a way, it resembled a flattened ball that had been sitting on the ground for too long. There were parts of Stephan' chopped face lying about the cave, but the one thing I remember most distinctly was Stephan' nose. It sat, nostrils up, and I knew instantly that it was Stephan' nose. There was something about it that made it uniquely Stephan's; the width, the color, something. Jethro or someone else there decided to lift up Stephan' head and take a look. They did but I turned my head, choosing not to view that horrid sight. The next thing I remember is being in a room, probably close to the cave somewhere, and there was a tricorder in it, like the kind they use on Star Trek. It was a bit larger and it resembled a tape recorder. There was a case for it sitting next to it, which was about the size of a small suitcase. We somehow managed to play back some recorded messages on the tricorder and what played was Stephan's last moments before he died. It was like he was talking on a short-wave radio. He would say something (I don't know what), then there would be some static. The static part of the conversation was the voice or correspondence from whoever it was that killed him. We listened as Stephan talked, there was static, then he talked and talked some more. Each time the static came across the tricorder, this meant that the person who killed him was getting closer to committing the cruel deed. Finally it got to the point where there was nothing but static and I knew that Stephan then died. His death was recorded for us to here, but I can't remember if his voice indicated that he was going to die, or if it came to him as a surprise. Instead of listening further, we felt the need to get out of this place quickly because, after all, we were behind enemy lines and knew that if we hung around too long then we would get caught. We took the tricorder, and its case, with us, which, when all packed up, seemed rather large, like the size of one of those clam-shaped storage compartments that you strap to the top of your car. We had gathered some other stuff and had quite a load. There were several roads on which we could escape. Jethro, or someone else, had the idea to travel along a road that we were unfamiliar with. We had a car, which was loaded down with all the stuff we had, and I suggested that we try this another road which I we were familiar with. I remember standing in front of the car on this dirt road on the side of a mountain. It curved away off to the left around the mountain and I explained that this was the road that goes through "Europe and Switzerland and ..." and I mentioned other countries that we were somehow familiar with. I think everyone else agreed and wondered why we had even considered the other road in the first place. I'm not sure if I dreamt this next part or if I just thought about it after I was immediately awake, but there was a scene about passing through customs between two foreign countries with all this stuff strapped to our car. I recall seeing a guard watch us as we traveled in a line that consisted of other cars, but ours stuck out because of all the stuff on it. I had the feeling that if you carried too much stuff then you would get stopped and questioned. But we didn't.

July 14, 1992

I was setting up a mole trap on the two mole holes on my lawn, although there is only really one that I know of. In my dream, I started preparing the first hole for the trap. I think this was the hole near the edge of the fence, in the front lawn, which is the only real mole hill I have in my yard. It had a lot of dirt so I had to clear away some of it. The mole tunnel went about a half foot underground so it was a real bitch getting the trap to where I wanted it. I don't know if I ever finished setting up the trap in this particular mound but I think I did. Then there was another mole hole but this one was easier to deal with because the tunnel ran right under the surface of the ground. The top of the tunnel was brittle as I pulled some of it away by the hole, so setting the trap up here was easy. I remember lying the trap right down in the path where the mole burrowed, and this seemed a much better hole to place the trap in. It was weird, but it was like I remembered that I only had one trap so I could only put the trap in one hole, not both. I think I either moved the trap to the second hole, or I just used two traps and I didn't know where the second one came from. I didn't really question this second trap, I think, until after I awoke.
I remember seeing a black man, riding in a horse-driven carriage away from me, to the left and at an angle down a dirt road. There was some connection between myself and this man, and I think he may have been the mentally impaired man played by the actor Ernie Hudson in the movie "The Hand That Rocks the Cradle." He kind of looked at me as he drove off. He wore old clothes, like a shabby gray coat and a worn hat with a thin brow.

July 24, 1992

There was a guy, I'm sure it wasn't me, sitting at a counter in a restaurant. He was talking to the cook, who was standing on the other side of the counter. Behind the cook was a large griddle. The man sitting at the counter ordered something, but talked quietly. I think the cook asked him what he had said and the man again repeated, only this time even quieter and real suspicious-like, as if he was up to something and wasn't really interested in ordering anything at all. It was like he was angry at the cook for not hearing him, or he was angry in the first place and just wanted to sidetrack the cook until his real intentions were revealed. He kind of smiled evilly at the cook then jumped over the counter and grabbed the cook. His intention was to fry the cooks face on the griddle, but the cook acted quicker and shoved the man's head onto the grill. It was like the man had planned to do this all along because as the cook held the left side of his face to the grill and sizzled, the man laughed maniacally up at the cook, as if meaning, "Just wait! You're going to get it!" As his head sizzled on the grill, the man took a free arm, perhaps his right, and sprayed something like PAM non-stick cooking spray around the griddle, circling the area where his head lay. Then I guess he managed to get his head off the grill because someone, who had been standing off to the left this whole time, threw a pad of butter on the grill right where the man's head used to be. I don't know who this person was, but I think he was an accomplice of the man who wanted to kill the cook. The butter sizzled away on the grill and, along with the PAM, made way for something else to be fried on the griddle. The rest of this dream I remember viewing from the top of the griddle, about six feet in the air, like I was watching from the ceiling. The man who had the right side of his face frying on the grill, suddenly overpowered the cook and lifted him off his feet. Using both hands, he raised the cook into the air and turned him upside down. Then he began slamming the cook's head onto the griddle, over and over again. I think I saw some blood began to seep out onto the grill from the cook's head, but I think I just imagined it because I was expecting it. Finally, after smashing the head until the cook was dead, the man then let the cook's head rest on the griddle, face down, and it began to fry away.

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