I’m riding in a school bus down a narrow, urban street, and at first I believe it is my mom who’s driving. When I realize it’s my sister, Ellen, I am a little relieved, but then panicked, because she’s my (much) younger sister, and I always worry about my sisters.
I ask, “Ellen, where’d you get the bus?”
“Just bought it. For ten dollars! Isn’t that cheap and awesome?”
As I say so, an 18ish, ponytailed blonde steps off the curb in front of the bus. Dream time slows down and I see the little girl’s face change about a half dozen times in horror then resignation. Ellen does not stop, or seem to really be all that horrified that she just ran over a young girl. In fact, she says, “There goes a gallon of fuel economy.”
There’s a small blank in the dialogue in the dream, but somehow Ellen is compelled to pull over. It’s as if her first instinct is to just keep going. We’re all sitting in the bus, and then I become aware of the identity of the other passengers.
There’s my brother, Kenn, sister, Jenna, mom, no dad, and these two women who go to church (or used to) with my family, Megan and Erica. In the dream, the two have kind of reversed body types. Megan is very tiny and Erica is sort of Reubenesque.
Then there’s the cop. He’s got a shaved head except for this largeish patch of thick, long, dark hair that he’s wearing down over one eye, all anime. And he’s attractive and gregarious and funny and super nice to Ellen, even though she’s just committed homocide.
Then there’s rain, buckets of rain, and there are folks outside who are managing the crisis, and I am itching to walk home to my nearby apartment, but am waiting out the rain. Then my mom decides to take the wheel and, she does so without any notice or discussion. She’s decided the bus is in the way, and I’m screaming, “Mom! Don’t go anywhere! They’re gonna’ think you fled the scene!” She says, “Hush, I’m just moving us so we’re out of the way.
So she goes around the block and into this strange, paved alley that’s only wide enough for the bus, but when it’s time to stop, she can’t.
So we’re in slow motion again, and literally feet from hitting more people and cars when I realize it’s a hand brake, and I leap forward and start tugging this thing that comes out of the dash like a pull string on a talking doll from days of yore, and I’m tugging and tugging and feet and feet of string are landing at my feet and we’re millimeters away from hitting people and I get it stopped. Whew.
Then suddenly I’m walking in the woods in the dark in the rain with Megan and we’re talking about all kinds of things that I can’t hear in my dream, and then she says, “you know I’m pregnant?”
“I forgot. Sorry. You don’t look pregnant. When are you due?”
“I don’t know. I don’t really want to be pregnant.”
“You know there are things you can do about that.”
“I know.” sigh, “I don’t want to.”
Then we’re in this big, big church sanctuary that’s pitch dark, and as my dream eyes adjust, there are really strange shafts of amber light streaking, but in no discernable pattern, and with no visible light source, and we’re walking down one of the far aisles, and I’m wondering where the room ends when I see my dad. He’s sitting alone in a pew that’s like a mile wide, and I wake up before I can go ask him what the heck he’s doing in my dream.
Where’s Jung when you need him? And I packed our dream analysis books. Phooey.