The dream was incredibly long, and while I wound through it in a way that continually made sense, it was full of strange places, people, objects...
After a long series of events, I was in a great structure near the top of a mountain. It was the largest of a handful of buildings, all advanced in their style and furnishing, but with hefty wooden roofs and framework. The place was nestled among a wild forest full of evergreen trees. It was a headquarters for something, I knew, and we were in the midst of a heavy war. Gabriel was there, and Ian, I think, as well as a dozen other people, all dressed in urban fatigues.
We loaded into a van (no Gabriel?) and headed down the mountain. The road was sheer ice, pocked and jagged and nearly 45 degrees down. As we made our descent, I saw, through a strip of pine to our left, a second road, which another set of vans was trying to climb up. We reached the bottom of the road and U-turned to the second road, preparing to make our way up. One of the vans in front of us began sliding backwards uncontrollably. It gained speed and was heading straight toward us. I grabbed the shoulders of the man in front of me (cousin Adam?) and went stiff with fear. Some ten feet before it reached us, the van veered left and slowed near the edge of the border of pine trees. I let out my breath, squeezed the man's shoulders, and we continued up the ice road.
About halfway up, we turned off the road to a small building hidden among the trees. As we all loaded out, I noticed that the van's interior was gaudily decorated in psychedelic patterns and colors. Even the radio switches were covered in fuchsia-colored velvet. As the people climbed out of the van, I saw that they were all children and teenagers, wearing bright clothing and disinterested looks. The girl that came out of the van after me wore a peach-colored hoodie and had a face that showed downs syndrome. After the van was empty, a group of other people, waiting near the building, filled it up. Gabriel was among them. He hoisted himself into the van, his clothing black, and sat with his hands in his lap. I walked up to the van's door to see him better. "I'm going to fight," he said, or perhaps he didn't need to. There were no goodbyes, he looked straight ahead, his eyes set. They drove away, directly into the battle raging on the far side of the cold mountain, I knew.
I turned to walk into the building and the other young ones followed. Inside, I made my way through a few rooms and found the President near a pool table, his hand massaging his forehead. He silently shooed away a gaggle of people and walked toward an adjoining room, a small lounge with a dozen beertaps lining the bar. I stood outside the room, watching as he hung his head, his eyes tired. The children I drove in with were playing with the pool table outside of the room, and his daughters were there, too. I noticed a blackboard on the wall, full of funny scribbles and illustrations, and shuffled closer. Written in IPA, there were instructions, silly phrases, and my name: erIkə ʤənI:və lepek. Suddenly, I remembered visiting the place on a school field trip years before and filling the chalkboard with the phonetic alphabet I had been studying at the time. He never erased it? I wondered, with a pang of pride. I went to rub off some of the chalk, but noticed that it wasn't a chalkboard at all. Somebody had the original board copied, printed up, and hung on the wall. My instructions... I thought, curiously. I beckoned the daughters over to have a look, explaining the sounds the symbols made and tracing their own names in the air.
The President came out, watching us with interest, but before he could say anything, I heard a shout from somewhere outside. I followed it through a back door, and saw Ian standing on the side of the building looking worried. By then, it was evenfall. Ian was holding a vest for laser tag, and pointed to a laser gun not far from him. "It's Gabriel's!" he called to me, looking worried. I walked over and picked up the toy gun as we heard a van pulled up to the front of the building.
I scaled a fence and waited near the front doors. People were coming out of the van, but I couldn't see Gabriel anywhere. The darkness was growing deeper, and I squinted my eyes to try and make out the shadows. I suddenly felt a great bump from behind. Turning, I saw Gabriel, his arms wrapped around my legs. He wore a red and grey camouflage bucket hat, and red fatigues. He was glowing as he pulled me down to show me how he had painted his teeth the color of mud. "Because they're so reflective, see?" he said, smiling wide. I pulled his hat off and stared at him. Two small spiders were crawling around in his hair, but I brushed them off without a word. When I knelt down to look at him better, I saw a larger, dead spider hanging from the side of his chin. I picked it off sadly. "We did it, mama," Gabriel said proudly, his voice still touched with the unformed accent of a baby.
After a long series of events, I was in a great structure near the top of a mountain. It was the largest of a handful of buildings, all advanced in their style and furnishing, but with hefty wooden roofs and framework. The place was nestled among a wild forest full of evergreen trees. It was a headquarters for something, I knew, and we were in the midst of a heavy war. Gabriel was there, and Ian, I think, as well as a dozen other people, all dressed in urban fatigues.
We loaded into a van (no Gabriel?) and headed down the mountain. The road was sheer ice, pocked and jagged and nearly 45 degrees down. As we made our descent, I saw, through a strip of pine to our left, a second road, which another set of vans was trying to climb up. We reached the bottom of the road and U-turned to the second road, preparing to make our way up. One of the vans in front of us began sliding backwards uncontrollably. It gained speed and was heading straight toward us. I grabbed the shoulders of the man in front of me (cousin Adam?) and went stiff with fear. Some ten feet before it reached us, the van veered left and slowed near the edge of the border of pine trees. I let out my breath, squeezed the man's shoulders, and we continued up the ice road.
About halfway up, we turned off the road to a small building hidden among the trees. As we all loaded out, I noticed that the van's interior was gaudily decorated in psychedelic patterns and colors. Even the radio switches were covered in fuchsia-colored velvet. As the people climbed out of the van, I saw that they were all children and teenagers, wearing bright clothing and disinterested looks. The girl that came out of the van after me wore a peach-colored hoodie and had a face that showed downs syndrome. After the van was empty, a group of other people, waiting near the building, filled it up. Gabriel was among them. He hoisted himself into the van, his clothing black, and sat with his hands in his lap. I walked up to the van's door to see him better. "I'm going to fight," he said, or perhaps he didn't need to. There were no goodbyes, he looked straight ahead, his eyes set. They drove away, directly into the battle raging on the far side of the cold mountain, I knew.
I turned to walk into the building and the other young ones followed. Inside, I made my way through a few rooms and found the President near a pool table, his hand massaging his forehead. He silently shooed away a gaggle of people and walked toward an adjoining room, a small lounge with a dozen beertaps lining the bar. I stood outside the room, watching as he hung his head, his eyes tired. The children I drove in with were playing with the pool table outside of the room, and his daughters were there, too. I noticed a blackboard on the wall, full of funny scribbles and illustrations, and shuffled closer. Written in IPA, there were instructions, silly phrases, and my name: erIkə ʤənI:və lepek. Suddenly, I remembered visiting the place on a school field trip years before and filling the chalkboard with the phonetic alphabet I had been studying at the time. He never erased it? I wondered, with a pang of pride. I went to rub off some of the chalk, but noticed that it wasn't a chalkboard at all. Somebody had the original board copied, printed up, and hung on the wall. My instructions... I thought, curiously. I beckoned the daughters over to have a look, explaining the sounds the symbols made and tracing their own names in the air.
The President came out, watching us with interest, but before he could say anything, I heard a shout from somewhere outside. I followed it through a back door, and saw Ian standing on the side of the building looking worried. By then, it was evenfall. Ian was holding a vest for laser tag, and pointed to a laser gun not far from him. "It's Gabriel's!" he called to me, looking worried. I walked over and picked up the toy gun as we heard a van pulled up to the front of the building.
I scaled a fence and waited near the front doors. People were coming out of the van, but I couldn't see Gabriel anywhere. The darkness was growing deeper, and I squinted my eyes to try and make out the shadows. I suddenly felt a great bump from behind. Turning, I saw Gabriel, his arms wrapped around my legs. He wore a red and grey camouflage bucket hat, and red fatigues. He was glowing as he pulled me down to show me how he had painted his teeth the color of mud. "Because they're so reflective, see?" he said, smiling wide. I pulled his hat off and stared at him. Two small spiders were crawling around in his hair, but I brushed them off without a word. When I knelt down to look at him better, I saw a larger, dead spider hanging from the side of his chin. I picked it off sadly. "We did it, mama," Gabriel said proudly, his voice still touched with the unformed accent of a baby.
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