Do what's right

I am jogging through a suburban neighborhood. I run down a cul-de-sac towards what I think is Melissa’s house from growing up. There are a group of people standing in the yard and some kids playing in another yard. I pick up speed as I round the circle of the dead end street. My feet are flying as I pass the kids. I see Paul’s (from scouts) sister sitting in the yard in front of the kids. She is smoking a cigarette and returns my wave as I wiz past. Suddenly I am riding a bike through the suburb until the main road ends at cross street. I get off the bike and walk across the street towards where Tommy (from work) and 2 other guys are standing in a yard. I limp as if my knees are locked together and Tommy makes fun of me by flapping his arms and legs and making the retard noise that kids do when they’re making fun of handicapped kids. I stop when I realize those guys are laughing at me and a white car almost hits me, braking hard and stopping a few feet from me.

I’m a young boy trying to buy a potato from a wood shack fruit and vegetable stand in the country. (This entire dream takes place in black and white) The vendor, an older man in white apron tells me there are no potatoes to be had. But is he unloading a crate of potatoes into a pile as he talks. I know there is a shortage of food that the man won’t sell them to me because he can charge more than I can afford. I wonder if this is the great depression. I pick out a potato that has begun to sprout. There are two gray bumps pushing their way out from the skin. I tell the man, “This one has two bad spots, sell me this one for two good pennies.” I extend my open hand to him revealing about 10 or twelve pennies. About half are dull and worn but the rest shine like new. The farmer replies that me and the boy that is waiting outside for me might as well go out and pick potatoes from the fields. I’m not sure if means that we can pick his crops for pay or that we a pick some for us to eat. I bite into a raw potato and start eating it as an agreement of whatever deal he is offering. “It’ll be a slow heavy load,” he says.