Dream Journal

Protest at a Water Park, Saved

I’ve been dropped off at a water park with a group of friends. I spend most of my time by myself, but I see my handsome childhood classmate Zane Flynn walking around and I walk beside him twice.

There is a water slide being used by a giant girl near the edge of the sea. The slide cuts through a low straight ridge, water fed to it by two channels behind the ridge, the water sloshed in by two manatee-shark creatures from either side.

I’m involved in a dramatic incident where the coast is drained for an approaching tram. A lone protester walks up to the track and places his foot on it, forcing the tram to stop. Two armed guards approach to arrest him. Moving as one, myself and a large crowd surround both guards and protester, like white blood cells isolating an infection. We sweep back to the shore in a wave and break apart, saving the protester. Angela Merkel (who is in charge here) begins a retribution campaign, which I immediately notice by the presence of a creepy guy recording video directly in front of me as I walk back.

Some things in the park are already closed even by 3:00 pm, like the gift shop/president’s hall located on a mezzanine at the edge of the park. Headed back down long twisting perpendicular concrete stairs, I jump and surf on a series of long sloping metal handrails. Finally, on the way out, I consider how the musician Weird Al always seems to be on top of knowing about these protests. Then, I just happen to see him on the way out, playing an accordion cover of “We Don’t Need No Education”. I thank him. I’ve heard that he remembers all his fans names, and he yells back at me “thanks Amy!” Hm. Leaping up the stairs in bounds, I see two hip-hop kids having an argument about the protest. My answer to them is that it doesn’t matter what happened in the past, what happened today is always more relevant. And the protest happened today.

On my way back out to the communal bus, around the corner from the exit, I run into my family, which is the family from Malcolm in the Middle. In the cozy second story living room/kitchen, they’ve written a single name on a big board, “Artemisia”. I start saying “don’t even tell me, I know you’re up to something,” but they explain anyway (of course they do) it’s their list of names for people that would both wear cutoffs and who could be male or female. Of course it is.

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