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1
I was at a house somewhere, which wasn’t the house I live in now. I was outside in the driveway, sitting in a car and there was a lot of snow on the ground, around 2 feet deep. There was some stuff that happened before this in the dream that I can’t remember, but whatever that was, it led up to me being in this car now. There was some need for me to pull out onto the street, maybe to follow some other car that was out there. I felt like I was supposed to pull out to the right, but I pulled out to the left instead and went that way, knowing that wherever it was I needed to go I could get there by going left. The snow was deep enough to where ridges formed in it and shaped the tire tracks that were made by the cars that swayed this way and that on the road. The snow in the tracks was kind of gray and dirty, the pristine snow having been disturbed. I could see tread marks in the one-foot high trenches in the snow on the street, and there were a lot of tire tracks crisscrossing all over the road in all directions. The snow was everywhere and it was hard to tell where the road was because of the white stuff. The road was lined with dense, dark woods on both sides that were also covered in snow. There was another car on the road with me, and I think it was the car I was supposed to be following. We drove to the left down the road for a ways and I eventually tried turning around on the street to change directions, maybe because the road seemed impassable at this point. The snow ridges in the road made it hard for me to turn in station-wagon type of car, but I do remember turning horizontally across the road and trying to reverse direction.
2
I was in the kitchen in the house that I grew up in on the top of the south hill. I was by the door leading to the outside and although in real life that door does not have a screen (or at least it didn’t when I lived there), in the dream it did. I was looking up at the door, as if I was only a few feet tall, and I could see my cat Tiger crawling up the screen on the outside. As he clawed his way up to the halfway point of the screen, I noticed a circular cut-out opening in the screen, about the size of a dinner plate. Tiger crawled up to that point and stuck his head through that hole, thinking this might be a way to get in.
I was sitting in the cab of a pickup truck. It was a large cab, perhaps a king-size model, and Sarah and William were with me. My dad was outside the pickup, doing some kind of work. There was a thug out there, some guy with a haircut that reminded me of one of the bad guys in Perfect Dark. He was doing something threatening, I can’t remember what, but it didn’t sit well with my dad. Whatever the guy did pissed my dad off and he ended hitting the guy in the chops. In this dream, my dad wasn’t crippled and could walk just fine, although he didn’t look in prime health and was wearing glasses. The guy that he hit was sitting in the bed of the truck and we in the cab were watching him. Getting hit made him cry and he started sobbing a little, bending his head over and producing a bit of tears perhaps. There were some other guys, around three others, who were this guy’s friends so they walked up to him to see what was wrong. As this went on, dad continued working. He was loading some kind of building materials or something like that into the bed of another pickup truck nearby. There was a man with dad that dad was helping, and together they loaded the pickup that belonged to the other guy. Dad was fearless, and had that stern I’m-not-gonna-take-any-crap look on his face as the guy in our pickup bed continued crying and his friends helped him. Something had happened to dad as he was working and the middle finger on his right hand became dislocated. I could see that there was a spot of blood there at the joint, which probably wasn’t caused by the dislocation, but which reminded me of how a fisherman’s finger looked on a fishing show I watched the other day as a large fish he was trying to detach from his hook clamped down onto his finger hard, drawing blood. That spot of blood on dad’s finger in this dream looked just like that. The group of guys, one of whom dad had hit earlier, said they would help dad out with his dislocated finger and pull it back into place. This surprised me that dad would ask these guys to help in doing this. He even offered to pay them, maybe bringing out his wallet and showing the money flap there and divvying out some bucks. The group of guys gathered around dad and I was concerned, thinking that since dad hit one of them that they might gang up on him and beat the living tar out of him, but they seemed to just concentrate on dad’s finger. However, although dad really never showed signs of pain before, he certainly did now. There was one guy in the group who was the largest and was probably like the leader or something. He approached dad and although I couldn’t really see it, I could hear dad screaming in pain now as the group of guys pulled at dad’s finger and tried to reset it. As the guys gathered around dad, dad was eventually on the ground, maybe shoved or just because he was in such pain. As he was on the ground, one of the guys, I think the same one dad had hit earlier, kicked dad in the right ribcage with his right foot. This pissed me off, thinking that this was their real intention—to actually beat dad up instead of helping him with his finger—so I exited the cab of the pickup, telling my kids to sit tight, and I approached the guy who hit my dad and I smacked him in the face with my fist.
A lot happened but of course I only remember the last part of this dream. There was a guy who was a geek; short red hair, black horn-rimmed glasses, tall and thin and maybe some acne action going on all over his face. There was also a girl that was with him and she was also pretty much a geek as well. She had long black hair. These two were in their early 20s. They were going to get married. The woman was dressed in a lovely white wedding gown with a frilly head veil thing attached to her scalp, and the guy probably had on a nice tux. Anyway, something that happened earlier in this dream, which I can’t remember, made this geeky groom want to kill someone. I think he actually did shoot someone and then he proceeded to shoot his own brains out. So pretty much this guy’s life sucked. After he shot himself, the undertaker of the town, who was like the manager or boss of the city or something, came along in a large white truck that resembled an ice cream truck, and took the geeky guy’s body away. This town manager/undertaker guy had an assistant who was small and hunched over, like an Igor-type of sidekick person. The boss and Igor drove the truck to a street a few blocks up higher than the street where the groom shot himself. There were two-story buildings 70 feet away, lining the street against the backdrop of an overcast sky. There was a manhole there in the middle of the street and it was open. The undertaker then proceeded to hang the groom by his feet vertically straight up and down in the air and over the manhole. There was probably an attachment of some kind on the truck, like a tow-truck cable thing, that lifted the groom’s body into the air and maneuvered it until it was situated over the hole. Then the body was lowered into the manhole, head first, fitting just right. Apparently, this was how they disposed of bodies in this town; either that or the undertaker decided to dispose of this particular body this way and hoped nobody found out.
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