Dream
Early last week, I had a dream about New York, without ever actually seeing New York.
I was attending some sort of educational conference (convention?) in the Northeast, in New York State, but outside New York City. My family, working in education, attended the same conference. We spent our days at the convention and our nights sharing a single hotel room, too tired to do much else than watch TV.
In addition to the Tucker clan, we shared the hotel room with a thin, bleach-blonde woman with a thick New Yorker accent. She seemed to live in a perpetual state of annoyance. On one of the last nights there, insomnia kept me up while the rest of my family slept. I watched a late-night comedian, only to have the woman explode.
"I can't take it anymore!" she yelled. "Why are you still watching this?! Can't you see I'm trying to sleep?! Oh, my GAAAAWD!!"
I could do little more than lift an eyebrow in confusion. I actually thought she was a sleep. Even so, she only had to say something, and I would have had no problem turning the television off.
The next morning, Sam and Amy left for the airport. My parents would leave later that afternoon. But, my mom, speaking from under the covers as she slowly awoke from the couch, said, "Jason, you're not leaving until tomorrow night. You have an opportunity now that you'll never have again. Visit the city this weekend, or you'll never get the chance." Then she rolled over and went back to sleep.
I left the hotel room that morning to ponder what I should do with my following day, touring New York City before going home. The land was full of hills and escarpments, often bare and orange, with roads of dirt or cheap pavement. kane_magus was there, with two bicycles, inviting me to ride with him for a while. Happy for the company, I accepted.
I was being pestered by two men, one black and one white, both in shabby clothes. They were panhandling, begging for spare change. Not wanting to to have to deal with them, I rode past the pair each time I saw them.
While riding past them for the last time, my clothing snagged on a low hanging tree branch. Rather than the branch breaking or tearing my clothes, it became elastic and pulled me backwards. The bike slowed, stopped, and then reversed until I came to rest directly under the tree, right between the two panhandlers. They were surrounded by members of their family.
'You know,' I thought to myself, 'if something this improbable happened, I think God wants me to give them some money.' So I reluctantly opened my walled and gave them a five dollar bill.
A small boy, the son of the black panhandler, came to me and held up an item. "For just one dollar more, you can have this handsome MP3 player," he pitched. It was an off-brand music player, with a price tag on it that said "$6." It was encased in a plastic box, the kind stores use as an anti-theft device.
I sternly said "No, thank you" and rode on my way to see someone else.
I rode to a distant location (instantly, as you sometimes can in dreams) to find a small house in comfortable suburb. Dismounting from my bike, I put down the kickstand and casually strolled into the house. There, two women greeted me: one older and one younger. The older one, mother of the younger, was giddy and giggly, like a teenager meeting a celebrity. The younger, very irritated.
"Alison," I said, "I'm traveling to New York City tomorrow, and I'd like for you to be my guide while I am there."
Her mother gasped, then giggled in anticipation of her daughter's answer.
Alison frowned, her irritation rising. "What makes you think I've even been there?"
I explained calmly and nonchalantly, like a robot or a logical alien. "Well, you live in close proximity to this place, which is a major cultural, economic, and tourism hub. There are many inexpensive, high-speed options for commute directly into the city from the surrounding area. Also, it is host to a very large number of high-profile entertainment events every year. All of this increases the probability that you have visi--...."
"It's equally likely that I only went there once, and as a small child who wouldn't remember anything now," she interrupted.
My face brightened into a smile. "So you have been!"
She sighed, rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms. "Yes," she grumbled.
She was clearly very vexed, but not enough to ask me to leave, and apparently not enough to refuse me her services as a guide. But she was making it clear she didn't have to be cheerful about it.
And then I woke up.