The Work of a Feverish Mind

I caught some sort of sickness yesterday afternoon that left me feeling tired and weak. I can’t usually fall asleep in the daytime when I’m well, but I had no problem then. I think I must have had a fever, too, because I woke up covered in sweat even without any covers. Mama thought I had one today, too, although the only symptom I still exhibit is a general feeling of fatigue. Further supporting my theory that I had a fever, I dreamed some interesting dreams yesterday afternoon, dreams with more plot than any I’ve had in a long time. Here they are for your benefit:

My first dream began with me driving Bria along some street in the commercial section of some town. I don’t think it was a real town, for I cannot conceive of its location in reality. I have all these perplexing “memories” of places suddenly popping up in my head, too, that were either long-forgotten real places or the fruit of my feverish imagination. Anyway, to return to my dream…

I was driving along some road a bit like South Willow St with shops on only one side and hills on the other. There was not much traffic, and the road was smooth and long. As I turned right to go into a large shopping plaza with Ames on one side and some other building on the other (at least it wasn’t Caldor or Bradley’s or Rich’s), I was excited to perceive Diane R. following us into the place in her red SUV. I wove around the parking lot looking for a good spot, although I ended up parking right in the middle for no clear reason.

The parking lot was unusual in that it was, shall we say, inhabited. In fact, there was quite a community! There was a “lot overseer” and many people just living in the parking lot. It was very much like the trailer park in “The Long, Long Trailer,” except that people lived in cars. One fellow asked if he could park there “until Tuesday”, and everyone shouted his joyful assent. (“Welcome to the best parking lot in New Hampshire!”)

I got out of the car and looked for Diane, but I had been mistaken: it was not she. Instead it was a teacher from the Christian school where I took the Stanford Achievement Tests in every grade from first to eleventh. I walked over toward the building into which she directed her steps, and it turned out to be the schools new location! And it was time for the tests! I was rather peculiarly unsurprised to find that Bria was no longer with me and that Daddy and Cara had taken her place. The three of us walked into the building. Interestingly, the first floor was the basement of the church (CHC), and it was full of preschoolers painting at two long tables that took up most of the width of the room. Cara and Daddy forged their way through to the door leading to the stairs, but in the hustle and bustle of the crowd, I could not keep up. I even tried diving between the backs of two long rows of chairs, but all I got was paint on my new white jacket (which I don’t really have). I did make it through, but my family had disappeared.

I continued to climb level after level in search of the “Executive Office,” as I called it. People laughed at me when I asked where the Executive Office was, but I didn’t know why. I finally reached the second-to-last floor (I think there were four stories in all, including the basement) and found that the stairs to the final floor went in a circle getting increasingly narrow without rails. It all looked rather perilous. I can still picture it clearly, although I cannot describe it well. I was in the middle of trying very, very hard to gather enough courage to go up when Mama called me on my cell phone. I don’t remember what she said, but I think she was angry that I wasn’t home yet. I thought that was strange, since I was at tests, and just hung up without answering (an action I would never consciously consider, I assure you).

I headed down the other way just in time to see Cara go into a classroom and close the door. I didn’t want to interrupt her tests, so I explored the building looking for someone who could tell me where to go. I knew the principal of the school could help me, but he was giving tests to some of the younger kids, so I just hung around waiting for light to be shed from some other source. When Cara emerged for a break, I was just starting to talk to her when I suddenly remembered that twelfth-graders do not take this kind of SAT, and that I had no reason to be there. I left feeling both relief and embarrassment.

Then I was Spider-man watching Cara’s store for her while she ate dinner, and I stopped a bunch of robbers by making a cool web, but that’s another story for another day.


By the way...

Click here to discover the secret source of the soundtrack for The Gigantic Amoeba at Medfield College! In case the audio doesn't work, or you don't want to take the time to check, it's the second movement to Mozart's Piano Concerto no. 21 in C: Elvira Madigan. It's a fantastic piece, and if you don't have it in your music library, you should definitely add it.