Wednesday, February 06, 2008

the dreams stuff is made of

my mom and i were out watering the flowers in front of the house one night.  the sky was dark blue and most of our light was coming from the open garage.  one of mom's neighbors came walking up the driveway.  while it's kept quiet from most people, britney spears and her mom have a small house down the street and around the block, not too far from my elementary school, for when they need to 'get away', and she and my mom have become friends.  i'd forgotten this, but sure enough, here was the pop star, looking nice that evening.
she needed help bring in some groceries, and since mom was caring for her flowers and i really wasn't of much help, i offered to lend a hand.  we hopped in my dad's new white pickup and drove down the street to her house.
i consciously decided to not lock the truck, knowing i'd only be here a few moments, and this is moorhead, after all.  i helped her and her mom unload the groceries into the house and we talked for a few minutes.  they had bought a little white house that an older couple lived in when i was younger, and we used to ride our bikes by their house on the way to the little strip mall in the summer.  i'd never been inside the house before, and britney and her mom were good people to talk with.  when it was time to go, i walked outside and was horrified: the truck was gone.
i felt dumb for not bothering to lock it as the three of us began to look around.  we looked in between the houses and soon found the truck parked by a small old green house, tucked away from the street.  dead leaves covered the dirty ground and the porch light was on as we knocked on the door.
inside, we found ourselves talking with exactly the kind of guy i'd expect to live there: skinny and shirtless, wearing a dirty baseball cap over scraggly hair that needed a wash.  a single light hung over a round table, lightly scattered with junk, a small pistol, and the truck keys.  i told him i wanted my truck back.  i forget what he said but he dove for the pistol.  
i've sometimes wondered what i would do if placed in this sort of extraordinary situation; would i do the sensible thing and take the safest route to not getting hurt, or would i try to be a fictional hero?
i guess i went with being a hero.
i countered and dove for the gun.  he reached it first and we struggled, but somehow i ended up with it as we then scattered apart on either side of the table, me pointing the gun at him.  starting to come off the adrenaline and realizing that i was pointing a loaded gun at someone who wanted to point the same gun at me, i relaxed my aim and released the magazine, letting it drop to the floor.  i tossed the gun aside, grabbed the truck keys, and walked out the door with britney and her mom.

*  *  *  *  *

i've noticed i usually dream most vividly in that interim time when i should be getting up but manage to sleep for another hour or so.  this morning i drifted through my radio alarm  and didn't get up until two and half hours after i planned.  
but i got an unusual post out of it.

11 comments:

LJ said...

Holy frijole. I wondered at first why I'd never heard this story. It's because you waited and sprung the BUT WAIT, IT WAS ONLY A DREAM! ending on me. Doof.

CK Rock said...

Same here. Random questions that went through my head while reading the post: "I didn't know Jeff was visiting Minnesota." "I didn't know Jeff knew Britney Spears." "Gee, how well do I know Jeff."

Oh but it seemed so real. And you were there, and you....

Marvia said...

Haha! I was so confused, that I skipped to the end and then I was able to read your dream without complete confusion. I hope you're doing well. Hope you come visit us again.... keep us posted or maybe I'll just keep reading your post. :)

Em said...

So how do you deduce from the experience of a dream that "they were good people to talk with...."?

got me wondering..

but then again nothing in dreams is remotely rational, so there you go.

Becky said...

At first I thought maybe you were quoting someone else's words, but I got really confused when it said Moorhead and I wondered when you ever owned a white pick-up. Dreams are just weird.

Brady said...

Now I know where Becky's weird dreams come from... Maybe it's genetic somehow...

Tim said...

I think I read that opening paragraph about 4 times thinking "Last I checked, Britney Spears did not live a few blocks from us" before I skipped to the end and found the "it was a dream" thing.

I also feel better about some of my dreams now.

-->jeff * said...

wow. i figured the 'britney spears was our neighbor' thing would have been an immediate 'red flag' as to the reality of this story; instead, it seems i've created a wellesian mini-'war of the worlds' scenario.

that's quite a compliment. thanks, dear readers.

1. the chris, i was just thinking about you recently and how you are doing. i checked caferock; you're doing well.

2. em, you dream of having good feelings when you talk with people, and so deduce that they are good people to talk with.

it seemed real and plausible and pretty cool when i dreamt it, and i was glad that i was able to remember it clearly enough.

Allie said...

Jeff you are great!! The end!

Jack said...

Manfriend, the top three reasons I knew your story was bogus, albeit well-told, are as follows:

1. There's no way I could have heard your dad's Little Richard story that many times and not heard about B-Spears (yeah, we're tight like that) living in your hood.

2. In the struggle with the dude, surely one of you would've been wooked or gnomed or at least flying elbowed. You still would've come out on top.

3. I can't remember what 3 was, but dang, you cool like a mule.

Hooray for the Chris still being alive!

emily (jack's sister) said...

Wow, that was great! My early (or not so early) morning dreams are often so vivid that I completely believe them until a few minutes after waking. I've been tempted to turn some of them into short stories, but haven't gotten past the freaky Lewis Carrol similarities yet.