Pacdal Dreaming

I woke up too early today. I then went back to bed holding Jeffrey Steingarten's The Man Who Ate Everything. True enough, I fell asleep after three pages discussing The French Paradox, particularly how red wine could be good for the heart.

I dreamed we were at the house where my dad grew up on Pacdal Road, in Baguio. There was a big reunion and Auntie Caring was serving her famous buko pandan dessert. I was minding three small children, when suddenly Lola Mama walked over and put her arm around me. She was speaking in a mix of schoolteacher English and Ilokano, and then she shoved a USD50 bill into my hand. I was surprised, and straightened up, and behind me there was my dad chatting with my two aunties Lota and Josie. At that moment the air smelled like pine resin, and I looked down at my grandma and smiled. She used to be taller than me, but today I was the taller one. I leaned over to kiss her and smelled her hair that had been brushed with coconut oil. That used to be my job when I came home from school, massaging her hair with coconut oil. I gave her back her money and told her to give it to Auntie Caring instead.

Behind me, Auntie Josie was pink with laughter. Lola Mama had gone to the kitchen.

And then I awoke. In real life this sort of gathering happened only twice - once when the Caccams and the Sisons went on a tour of Northern Luzon, and later, when Lola Mama passed away when I was 16; I hadn't dreamt of her in years. Auntie Lota passed away shortly after that, and Auntie Josie a few years ago. The dream felt like Christmas when I was a kid. The only thing missing was Auntie Josie's cookies.

Three Dreams

Been having a spate of dreams lately.

First. I dreamed that a noisy group of friends visits me at home. We decide to go out to watch a movie, and pile into the elevator. Suddenly the elevator crashes one floor down. Everyone gets up, a bit bruised and shaken, with one girl getting hysterical. My first urge is to slap her, but instead I do the practical thing and push the emergency button.

Second. I dreamed that Amy and I went to market. On our way home we decide to ride shotgun on a big motorcycle, like the ones they have as public transport in Camiguin. Because there are two of us riding behind the driver, the motorcycle ride is relatively slow. However, when we try to traverse a hump, Amy and I get bumped off and fall to the ground. Laughing, we end up walking home with our marketing.

Third. I am walking home to our old house in UP. I pass through the AS First Pavilion corridor, where there seems to be a lot of people milling about. Apparently there is a cinematic screen test going on in one of the rooms. A man approaches me and asks me to try out for a Joan Collins-ish "Dynasty"-type character. To my surprise, I later win the role.

So much for the subconscious, eh?

Execution Dream

Last night I dreamed that I was in an office building with a group of people. Suddenly there was an explosion outside, so we all ran to the balcony window to see what was happening. There were armed men in the courtyard, in military camouflage. They ran up the stairs to the room we were in, and announced that we were all political hostages. They made demands over a cell phone and announced they would be killing one hostage soon.

They picked me. I was frightened and my mouth felt dry. They took me to the balcony and made me kneel down, and then they shot me in the back of the head. Before they shot me I was thinking, "I hope this isn't going to hurt."

Oddly enough, I felt the cold entry of the bullet, and nothing else. It felt like my consciousness shattered into millions of pieces, parts of me becoming shining fritillaries being showered across the universe, and then coming back together again. I was still me, but only in spirit. Then I looked at everyone in the room I had just left. They were all pale with fear. My consciousness went over to each one, trying to see if I could communicate with them after death.

I found my ex-boyfriend A. in the room and waved my hand in front of his face. He frowned and shifted his eyes from left to right. It was like he could almost see me. I tried talking to him telepathically, and it felt like my broken up thoughts were entering his brain much like white noise. Then I saw a tear roll down his face, and I thought, "I knew you'd miss me."