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The Tails of Alleymanderous
and Other Odd Tales
The Tails of Alleymanderous
1:41 am
. . .The light is blinding and you think, "Oh, fuck, this is it." Suddenly, it's dark. In the dream you open your eyes, and you are looking out a window, with a view of a vast star field and you recognize constellations. Then you turn around; you are in a room with people you don't recognize. Sitting beside you is a large version of Alleymanderous, remarkably human-looking but still, Alleymanderous. He wears a black shirt and woven in the fabric, little stars; they twinkle and form -- constellations. You focus on Gemini and Alleymanderous, looking through glasses with small, rectangular lenses, studies you. Abruptly you realize that the lenses are just glass.
"I know," says Alleymanderous, "these are for looks, but first impressions are everything."
He then picks up a cup of coffee and you see the logo on the outside, CATBUCKS, and the image is that of a feline form with its tail going up one side of the body, around the neck and then down the other side.
You squirm. This, you intuit, is going to be so fucking weird. You brace yourself.
"You're tense," says Alleymanderous. He sucks on a straw and you get the scent of intensely sweet, vanilla flavored hot milk.
"No shit," you say.
"It's OK," says Alleymanderous.
"I don't want to be here," you say.
"That's true," says Alleymanderous. He looks at you with green eyes that are strangely luminous, like two glowing spirits are sitting in the irises. You can't take your eyes off those eyes. He continues, "But here you are."
"Where's the door?" you ask.
"There." Alleymanderous points.
You look up. It's in the ceiling. Ten feet above you.
"This won't hurt you."
You keep staring at the ceiling, to the door and you say, "I'm not so sure."
Alleymanderous says, "That's true."
"Which," you ask, "that this won't hurt me, or my being not so sure means that they might hurt me?"
Alleymanderous simply stares at you with those luminous eyes and says, "This is true."
"What?" you ask, "What's true?"
"Shall we begin?" asks Alleymanderous.
"Begin what?" you ask.
"Examining more deeply your family of origin. That's why you can't get out of the dream."
"What's this got to do with my family of origin?"
"Everything."
"What?"
"You'll see. After this, you might have better dreams."
"But it might not help me get out of this dream?"
"Or dreams," says Alleymanderous. He takes another long suck on the straw. You notice he wears a wrist watch around his furry wrist and you realize that the hands are going backwards. You are beginning to dread this more and more. Alleymanderous then says, "Tell me about your family. Brothers? Sisters?"
You stare longingly at the door in the ceiling. "Sister. Kathy."
"Mother, father?"
You nod.
Then he points to the group of twenty or so individuals in the room. "Pick out people to represent your family. Without thinking, just physically move them to a place that feels right in the room."
"Why?" you ask. "What's this about?"
"Generational Field Energy. These people are going to represent your family and will show you your family dynamics."
You can't help it. You start crying. "I wanna go home," you wail.
"This will help you."
You look at Alleymanderous, sitting there, with his constellation-designed shirt, those glasses and, even though his image is tear-blurred, you have to admit, in this dream, he looks distinguished. You sigh miserably. "So these people will act out the field energy of my family that I've internalized?"
"That's true," says Alleymanderous.
"Do you have life insurance? Medical coverage?" you ask.
"Of course," he replies, "also malpractice insurance. Think I'll need it?"
"Probably," you reply, "especially if this is really accurate."
"It is," says Alleymanderous.
"Then you'll need all the coverage you can get." You then take on a "what the hell" attitude and get brave. You go to the strongest looking fellow you can find and you motion him to stand. He smiles. He's the most not-looking-like-your-father guy there. His whole attitude is of interest, curiosity, attentiveness. You sigh internally; so unlike my father, you muse. You set him up in the center of the room. You then go toward a kindly-looking woman; her demeanor is sweet, engaging. Good choice you think; no one could be more different from my mother. You then go for a representative of your sister. You locate someone petite, with long brown hair, who is quite lovely, and again, as different from your sister as you can imagine. You place her not far from your father. You place your mother figure next to your father.
"Now," says Alleymanderous, "choose someone who represents you."
You pick a young man, calm, pleasant; his demeanor is the exact opposite of yours right now. You set him up next to your mother. In your head, you hear the theme music of Leave It to Beaver and Father Knows Best.
You turn back to Alleymanderous.
"Through?" he asks. He takes another sip of his drink.
You nod. You look back. The fellow who represents your father has become your father; he stands on his head, in his Metro uniform, steering wheel in hand. He moves it like he's actually driving a bus; his feet move in the air as if braking and accelerating. "Vroom," he says. "Vroom, vrooooom."
Your sister hangs by her feet from the ceiling by a chain. Her dress is over her head and she's got on stainless steel underwear with such things as, "Come and get me, baby", "fuck me", "I'm yours" written all over them.
The representative of your mother becomes your mother; she somehow stands as though anchored rigidly perpendicular to the wall. She has her eyes closed, and is snapping her fingers like she's listening to a rock concert in her head and you? You see yourself scrunched in a corner, sitting on the floor, with your arms wrapped around your legs, looking around as if you're in mortal danger and have to be on guard every moment.
Alleymanderous gets up, goes to your father and asks, "And how does the father feel?" He grins and yells out, "Fourth and Blanchard. Free ride zone!"
Then, he goes to your sister. "Hello, sister," says Alleymanderous, "what's the sister feel?"
"Hornier 'n shit!" she screams.
Alleymanderous contemplates the stainless steel underwear and says, "That's true."
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