One more for the night.
Night before last I had this odd dream I was in some kind of dinosaur world. It was a place with canyons and high cliffs and ridges and such, very dry and orange. The big old triceratops-type dinosaur from Dinosaur (the Disney movie) was there with me and I think I rescued her, maybe from some raptors or something. She thanked me and then realized that I, a human, was stuck in this dinosaur world. I was the one who was out of place here, not her. She had the same voice as she did in the movie, that black woman--I can NEVER remember her name. :( (All right, I just looked it up, the dino's name is Eema and it IS Della Reese. Okay. :) ) Anyway, she offered to show me to the TRUE, CIVILIZED dinosaur world, the place where her kind acted as they TRULY were. I guess dinosaurs weren't really these big clunky things that hung out in swamps and such. I said okay, since I was so out of place and lonely here. She led me to a door that seemed to be at the end of a hallway set in the cliff itself, I opened the door up, and--
--stepped out onto a street in a nice well-off district in some strange alternate dinosaur world. All the "people" walking around were really dinosaurs on their hind legs, wearing suits, carrying canes, reading newspapers. The street was wet, as if from rain, and it was cloudy, but the dinos were so dapper and polite. I have the feeling one would have tipped his hat to me if he'd passed. Eema offered to show me to their bookstore, and since I love bookstores, I agreed.
The bookstore started out as a nice cozy little place, but ended up being bigger and more open, sort of like the interior of our K of C. Tan carpeting, a large room, open section in the middle, shelves in one part of the middle and along the sides. There were HUMANS in here. No dinos that I can remember. It also made me think of our Salvation Army, the way the books were presented on the shelves. Eema must have left me on my own as I went further inside to look at the books. The annoying thing was, I think some of the people were trying to watch a movie or something, so they turned the lights down REALLY low and it was hard to see the titles on any of the books. I wanted to tell them to turn the lights up, but I also didn't care to bother anybody. So I squinted around instead.
I went to the back right corner of the place, where two guys were leaning against a shelf talking to each other. One looked like that Pacey guy from Dawson's Creek. (No, I don't watch the show, but I saw enough of it in TV Guide before I stopped buying the thing.) I didn't like how close they were to the area I wanted to peruse, but said nothing and perused as best I could anyway, considering it was so dark. I was looking specifically for psychology-related books. I found them and tried to find a copy of the DSM-IV but all I could seem to find was the DSM-II-R. That puzzled me. I know there was a DSM-III-R, but not a II-R. Still, it was rather outdated, so I wasn't sure what its use to me would be. I started browsing the rest of the psychology books intead. There were a lot of nice big ones; those dinos sure liked their psychology.
Alone In The Dark
Last night's dream was kind of weird and difficult to outline. As far as I can tell, I was on Mackinac Island with a friend, a female, and I started out as myself. Perhaps she was not a friend but rather an acquaintance, as we didn't seem to get along very well; I sensed she didn't like me very much, or else found me exasperating. There was this HIGH set of stairs leading up from the--um--docking area? The place where you get off the boats. This really HIGH set of stairs led to the main street of the island. The stairs and railings were painted bright white and the sun was shining. I think I bumped into my "friend" and this annoyed her. "Sorry," I said.
I remember going into a souvenir shop and checking out some tacky things. When I tried to show her something in there it irritated her too. I can't remember what it was. Some little fuzzy thing? Something mentioning Michigan? Whatever. In any case I later on ended up walking along the beach at sunset with some kind of tour group with people my own age, and I feel as if I were a high schooler or a college student.
The lake was to our right. We were on our way back to the city to board the boats and head home for the night, but we were checking out the last few things there were to check out. We had an adult male "tour guide" wearing a baseball cap and pointing things out, telling us about them. I feel the group was small, maybe five or six people not counting him, but there may have been more people ahead of us. I say ahead, as I was near the end. And lagging. Which wasn't good, as we were on a tight schedule.
I stopped to look at the sunset, the water, sticks on the beach, something. The beach wasn't like that on the island; it wasn't rocky, but sandy. The sun made the water coming up on the sand sparkle. "Come on, we have to get going," the "tour guide" prompted me.
"All right, in a sec," I said, hesitating a bit longer.
The story seemed to change here. I tagged along after a bit but by the time we got back to town I wasn't myself anymore, I was a male, and I was Asian--Chinese, maybe. It was rapidly getting dark. (I've just noticed the resemblance this has to my "darkness falling" theme--the rapidly approaching darkness, the sense of foreboding, yet the feeling that the darkness is drawing me in or calling to me...) As the others were getting ready for the boat to arrive I cast a glance back toward the beach we'd arrived from. I had a dog. A dog I'd left out there. He wasn't really MY dog, but it was close enough. He was so loyal and I loved him so much, and here I was, leaving him behind in my hurry to get on the boat. I couldn't leave him. I had to go back and find him, whether the "tour guide" agreed or not.
I silently excused myself from the group and ran back toward the beach. I had to hurry or be stranded on the island for the night--and in my dream, the island was almost completely devoid of human life at night. There was only ONE person I knew of who might remain behind, and he stayed in some kind of watcher's booth near the docking area, or somewhere else pretty much inaccessible to me. In short--if I were left behind, NOBODY would know I was gone.
I ran along the beach. The sun was still making the wet sand sheen but there were clouds rolling in--not storm clouds, just clouds--and it was getting so dark, hard to see. And hard to run. I felt I'd trip over something any minute. As I ran I finally saw "my" dog far down the beach, where he'd been tagging along after us. He was a big white German shepherd; he looked just like Tubbs, the dog my aunt Teresa used to own, but his temperament reminded me of Max, a white dog my grandma used to own. Yet when I called him "Max" I knew I'd used the wrong name. He was both, and yet neither. I couldn't even REMEMBER his real name. I guess this just went to prove how I didn't really own him, after all.
He was playing with something on the beach. Rooting his nose in the sand, perhaps tossing a stick or some animal's carcass around. Having a great deal of fun. I said nothing else to him, didn't get any closer, but he knew I was there, knew that I wanted him to hurry and follow me; it was as if I could sense him thinking, "Yes, yes, I know; I might be along soon; but I have to finish up with THIS first." He knew I was in a hurry, he knew the urgency I felt at getting back to the docks with him, but he was more interested in having fun right now. I knew he was concerned for me and my happiness, he wasn't being selfish, but there were just some things that were more important than others, and this happened to be one of them.
After all--he wasn't really MY dog.
I stood and watched him helplessly. He would not follow me until he was done, and I had no idea when that would be. I turned and ran back toward the docks. I hated leaving him behind--I so hoped he'd finish up and follow me, bounding along after me until he caught up, and we'd board the boat together and LEAVE the island before the darkness fell completely.
I reached town alone.
The sky was pitch black now. The watcher's booth or whatever, down near the docks, was brightly lit, but nobody was in it. I had no idea if the man was on the island or not. And the boats were gone.
I'd been stranded.
I fell to my knees and started wailing. My friend, the tour group, the watchman, the dog, none of them were with me anymore--not even the faithful dog, whom I thought would be by my side forever. Night had fallen and I was completely alone and abandoned, with no one and no way to get home.
In real life the island is a beautiful place, and there's always some beauty in all my "darkness falling" dreams. But this is the first and only time I've ever been so saddened by one. I was sad about it even after my alarm clock had woken me up. Thinking back, I'm still sad about it now.