Nighttime Confusion

I rarely remember my dreams or nightmares, but for some strange reason, the stream of unusual faces and happenings has hung on this morning. The trigger could have been meeting some new people at the Chestnut Ridge Historical Society’s annual picnic. The event was held at Aleo Lake, a serene location away from the traffic and bustle of everyday life. The gently rolling lawn, small lake with geese and a lone white swan seemed ideal place to gather. Inside the barn were tables and local memorabilia. The only shortcoming was that the barn had no air conditioning. It was made tolerable by two large fans.

Several long tables were covered with flavorful potluck dishes and the feasting started. I moved from table to table, talking and becoming acquainted with the different people. One of the people that I was already friends with said I looked pale and tired. “My summer cold,” I explained.

Coming home, I was exhausted and soon went to bed. My phone wakened me. A friend had texted me. Nothing important, but it roused me from slumber, 12:51 a.m. The thoughts of riding in a car with friends clung to my brain like spider webs caught in my hair. The car was gray-blue Ford Crown Vic, like an old cop cruiser. Although I wasn’t able to recognize the faces of the driver and passenger, they reminded me of a couple of friends who are deceased. The dream returned as I fell back to sleep.

He stopped the car and pointed to a place in a small stream where fish swam. Dull hued rocks and brightly colored chachkies intermingled to line the bottom of the freshet. After a short while we pulled back onto the highway. It had become a multiple lane roadway. Instead of driving on it, he shot across the four lanes to drive on a craggy goat trail. In the back seat, I couldn’t see any trail at all, but we sped along the invisible path, knocking loose pieces of the mountainside to tumble into the valley far below. Somewhere along the line, we’d picked up four passengers, no one that I knew, but they’d all crowded into the front seat. Two other passengers I didn’t recognize were in the back seat with me. All of a sudden, the driver stopped the car and got out. The vehicle was perched on the side of the cliff… and I woke to answer natures call. I don’t guess I will ever finish the dream. Now, that’s what I call a real cliff hanger.