Another dream.
Jan. 29th, 2009 03:55 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
i_idI was sailing with my dad, but it was myself at the helm. The bay looked like his bay on Decatur, but there was wreckage all through it, vast jagged iron remnants of some past calamity. We were moving very quickly, under a very small mizzen (which is a sail my dad's boat doesn't have), and I was having trouble navigating this obstacle course. But slowly, bit by bit, we worked our way around the tombolo, and on the far side, we got stuck between two houseboats. The water was just shallow enough for me to walk, so I jumped out with a bowline to tow the boat, forcing it through the narrow gap. I clearly remember my feet sinking in the gritty warm mud, the boat's keel scraping, but never digging in.
When it was floating free again, we anchored it with an anchor that looked like a child's drawing, a squiggly thing of heavy, untempered iron. And then we had to be careful not to allow anyone from the houseboats aboard, because Offbeat is made of fiberglass, and here in the past (we were in the past now), that hadn't been invented yet.
One of the houseboats was a convent, and I lost track of Dad there and took a nap, but found him again in the houseboat next door, which was some sort of diner. I was just coming out of there when a shadow fell over all the houseboats, and every man on deck stared up behind me in trepidation. The whisper ran around that it was a navy ship, here to press crew, but I never turned around to look. Only when someone said that it was a cruise ship did I feel free to move again, and when I turned around, there was nothing there.
After that, Dad and I were preparing to leave, to move on, when a familiar face showed up. It was, simultaneously, my aunt and my little sister. Dad told me to avoid her, but I had to go tell her who I was, who I would be. We snuck out to one of the long balconies and sat on some crates, talking. She said that her sister, my mom, had just gotten married that year. And then my mom showed up, as she is today, and I woke up to my real mom telling me she was leaving for work.
When it was floating free again, we anchored it with an anchor that looked like a child's drawing, a squiggly thing of heavy, untempered iron. And then we had to be careful not to allow anyone from the houseboats aboard, because Offbeat is made of fiberglass, and here in the past (we were in the past now), that hadn't been invented yet.
One of the houseboats was a convent, and I lost track of Dad there and took a nap, but found him again in the houseboat next door, which was some sort of diner. I was just coming out of there when a shadow fell over all the houseboats, and every man on deck stared up behind me in trepidation. The whisper ran around that it was a navy ship, here to press crew, but I never turned around to look. Only when someone said that it was a cruise ship did I feel free to move again, and when I turned around, there was nothing there.
After that, Dad and I were preparing to leave, to move on, when a familiar face showed up. It was, simultaneously, my aunt and my little sister. Dad told me to avoid her, but I had to go tell her who I was, who I would be. We snuck out to one of the long balconies and sat on some crates, talking. She said that her sister, my mom, had just gotten married that year. And then my mom showed up, as she is today, and I woke up to my real mom telling me she was leaving for work.
