I was out in the country, in an underpopulated area, borrowing the backyard of a total stranger with some people who were not friends, just convenience-friends, "safety in groups" and all that. There were four of us, each with our own camping gear, but it was a clear night and warm enough that we slept without tents, in just our sleeping bags.
man whose property we slept on had an old circus fairground in his
backyard, a chain link fence thrown around the rides and mechanics that
we broken down and dangerous, but he did leave the tiger pit outside. It
looked like a giant dog-bowl painted red, once, and was sunk into the
ground a bit so that the sand that filled it was level with the ground
outside. There were two openings in the short walls opposite each other,
and I slept closest to one that was pointed away from the house, but
toward his neighbor's property.
For some reason, the person who
owned the property we were using wanted my cell phone, which was the
only one anyone had ever seen get reception in the area (though in
truth, I wasn't getting reception, but running it using local wi-fi
networks). Yes, my Droid was in the dream with me.
taking it several times, and while I was awake, was unable to. After I
went to sleep however, he jumped in his car, a beat up, classic
Cadillac, drove it on top of me so I was pinned down by the front
bumper, and took my cell phone.
I woke in a cold
sweat, my eyes rocketing open, but I don't bolt upright like I did when I
was little. I performed my little calming exercise, rolled over, and
closed my eyes, but also grabbed my cell phone, though it was lying next
to my bed, and tucked it between my thighs.
returned to the dream, I was lying in the tiger-pit again, and I hear a
car door close, and then an engine turn over. I was experiencing mild
in-dream paralysis, so I was unable to run, fly, jump, fight back,
anything. Fortunately, I had fresh in my memory a pagan protection
ritual performed by some close friends they called bubbling.
calmed my mind despite the roaring of the engine growing nearer, and
pushed a mental bubble of protection outward from myself, using my
sternum as the center point. As I pictured it growing, I grabbed my cell
phone and tucked it between my thighs.
The car hit my bubble,
which in the dream-realm, solidified into a clear, semi-permeable
shield. I could see, I could hear, I could breathe, but he couldn't get
in, and I couldn't get out. I didn't feel claustrophobic: I felt safe
(especially with the car hovering above me, the wheels spinning in the
air, held up by my protective bubble).
In the morning, the tire
tracks were still there, scuffled foot prints around a circle in the
sand, and the smell of burning rubber in the air. Inside that circle,
the sand was smooth and undisturbed, and I woke refreshed. My
convenience-friends and I parted ways, and I kept journeying west.