A few hours later, after finishing some work, I was back asleep again, and have just now woken again. This time I dreamt I was at my grandparents. There were some strangers there, plus Dad and an acquaintance of ours whom I won't name here. One stranger, Rusty, seemed a nice young man until he went out on the front lawn and, long story a little shorter, put a gun to his mouth. Everything was happening in slow motion because it was happening so quickly, so there wasn't time to do anything. Everyone turned away against the inevitable scene. I decided to risk shouting out, hoping it wouldn't matter what I said as much as having said it at the improbably last minute.
It worked. For awhile Rusty put the gun on me but it was easily talked away. We took him to somewhere in perhaps downtown Fort Worth. He was meek. It was a longer car ride than we expected because my grandfather didn't want him locked up near where they live. I think everyone was a little put out at me for having created this errand.
Later, the scenario shifted to Walgreens, fried foods, and my parents rented a movie called High School that I'd been half-meaning to see for twenty years. Mom gave away the plot twist. The high school was a front for mafia, or something with dark men in suits doing hands-on violence. It had a young Crispin Glover in one part, but my mother thought it was George Clooney. They did sound just alike.
