I had a dream earlier this evening. It had somewhat of a story (in a dream-like way) that I am trying to record as much as I can remember....
It starts as I am younger man - say around high school graduation age. I wake in an upstairs bedroom, and start going down the hall, down the stairs - the walls are blank (no pictures). I reach the ground floor, and happen to look to the right and see my Uncle Dennis in that room, and he's looking to be modern age today... almost 70 years. My sister walks through my line of sight, looking like the pre-teen version of herself, though taller, as an adult. My head swivels back to the left and the "front door", as I open it and leave. I step down two steps from the front porch and glance up at a street sign. It shows me to be on Clunk Street. It intersects with another street, and yet a third one as well.
"I told you we live at the corner of Clunk and Clank," my sister's voice carries out from inside the house. The third street that intersects, is Military Road. There's an early Honda Goldwing model motorcycle sitting at the curb. I got on it, and start it up, then go through the gear shifts in my head. Slowly I take off, up to the corner, turn right on Military Road, and start speeding up. This is where it gets weird.
There is a flashback of when I was younger - say 10-ish. Dad is there (aged appropriate to my age at the time) and he is teaching me the shift positions on a cycle. First all the way down. One up is Neutral, Two is second, three is third.
I'm back at the two story house. I'm home from work, though what job I couldn't say. I'm about 18 again. I walk in what feels like the "front door" though it is different than the earlier house, though I know in my head it is the same on at the corners of Clunk and Clack and Military Streets. It's late summer, into the early evening, and I turn on a window unit air conditioner. A voice hollers out, "Better get them winders open so it will be cooling off better." It came from a couch, and reminded me of a friend named Tim M, though I have not seen him for several years in real life. I open several windows, and some doors, at least ones that have screen doors with them. For some reason, there are several doors and windows here, looking literally into a yard-space that is of nothing but old, abandoned parking lot pavement, complete with tufts of grass growing in the cracks, and miscellaneous debris fluttering about. The whole yard, all the way over to Military street, is this way.
I turn to the television set (a floor model, like from the 70's - but at least it is in color) and the cable box on top. There is a TV guide type magazine there, with a '70's tie-dye art print with a show title and time of showing on the front. A show called "Rural Kirklin and Area" and it was maybe 20 minutes into the program already. I quickly change the channel over, thinking to see our old home there (my early years were lived there, prior to moving to Frankfort).
The show starts, showing me outside the current house, trying to pick up several large bags of "smashed-down" aluminum cans, climb onto a bicycle, and ride. This was something I had done several years growing up. I finally get going, and make a right on Military Street, and the camera angle stays behind me as I cruise up to Mash Road and turn again, heading to the recycle place. The camera turns back and continues on Military Street, as it leads out of town. The view speed picks up, and it like just showing the road (not much traffic shows, except heading into town) kind of like showing how the road runs through some farm country. It pulls up to a 'T' intersection in a town called ... something - I can't remember, but like Maisy Falls. A turn to the left, and it curves into Michigan Town, up to the single traffic lighted intersection of 421. I think to myself, "I must have missed the Kirklin route into Frankfort in the first part of the show I missed."
There is another dream shift at this point, and I am in large open floor area of a building. It's an asylum. I know it is, and I am a patient here, though I don't know why. It's a pretty dark and dingy looking place, with areas of recessed lightbulb lit areas that don't brighten much of anything. No is restrained in any way, and no "patient outfits" are on anyone. I kind of roam around, and pass random people. Each one seems to say something from my past, about them, but I don't recognize any of them, but feel that tug of forgotten remembrance of them. I stop, facing a regular wooden door. At my side I feel a female nurse standing, looking at me.
"You can go outside if you want, but you have to tell me what you did first," the nurse says. I look at her face. I don't know her, but know what she means.
"I know what to do. They're going to be free," I say in a low voice. Behind me, I feel the slow gathering of many of the 'patients' I had walked around earlier.
"Keys! Use the Keys!" yells someone. I look down at my hand. There is weirdly-shaped object in my hand, about key size, and I use it on the door, which opens. Suddenly there is a rush of people through the door, and all of them are saying things like "Open all the doors!" or "Use all the keys" as they run willy-nilly through the old, paved lot. Many head to a fence that now is edged around the lot, made of door after door after door, and making unlocking gestures at the door, then flinging them open.
Another shift of dream, and I am sitting on that couch, back in the two story, next to someone. I'm looking at the television screen, but not quite sure what I am seeing. "Looks like a video game I played as a kid," I say to the nothingness.
Then I woke up. I laid there in bed thinking, what in the heck was that about (the dream). I'm groggy, but felt somewhat good about pieces of it as I remembered the dream. After awhile I checked the time: 2:17am. Not a chance of going back to sleep. So hear I am sitting here, recollecting a dream and wondering what I ate/saw/did/remembered to bring on this kind of weirdness. I know Monday would have been my Dad's 73rd birthday were he still alive, so I am sure the parts about growing up in Frankfort and all is related to the - Uncle Dennis, the motorcycle. Even the television show. not sure about the rest of it.
In Frankfort, IN, there is no Military Street. I looked up on Google Maps, though I know there isn't a street named Clank or Clunk either. I was remembering Washington Ave, which runs in a NE/SW angle heading out from the center of Frankfort, where it crosses Maish Road, before leaving town, then becomes Michigantown Road, which truly leads to Michigantown on 421. I'm thinking Clank Street referenced Clay Street, which does intersect Washington, which dead-ends at Sycamore, forming maybe the triangle of the land the house supposedly sat, though probably much larger in actual size.
What a weird night/morning.
I was supposed to start the new project yesterday, but received notice they were pushing it back another day, to today. Then another notice it was "on hold until further notice". So I will be logging in at the appointed time today and see what the heck is going on....
PeacE
