…disturbing discoveries in the new house continue as we settle in.
(I should mention that this is not our actual house, not the new house we moved into earlier this year, but some alternate, dreamspace version that has that same-but-not-the-same quality which you only find in dreams.)
There is the painting in the upstairs bedroom, for instance. At first glance, it appears to be that of an old sailing ship, seen from behind, silhouetted against the night sky. Upon further inspection, however, it’s actually a spaceship, seen from behind, heading into the clouds. It’s an ingenious optical illusion and I’m quite impressed by it, both in my dream and upon waking.
But nothing on earth has the power to move this painting from where it hangs in the room. I try more than once, encountering a puzzling invisible force that halts my progress — like two pushing two positively charged magnets together. I can slide it along this force, but never past it.
This same force prevents some objects from being brought into the room as well. Just inside the doorway they will stop against some force that, while slightly giving, remains unyielding.
Today I am bringing a small muppet toy of my daughters into the room to put it away. Something takes it out of my hand and twirls it dancing through the air around me by one arm. It is as if some invisible child is at play, teasing me. But there is something cruel, angry behind this unseen hand.
I am frightened by this but I pretend to be delighted. I think that this will fool whatever it is that’s behind this. I laugh, feigning wonder. I reach out and pluck the toy out of the air, feeling the faint tug of force as it gives way.
The toy dances away from me again, snatched out of my arms and dangled above my face like one child playing keep away with another.
I do my best to smile and laugh, even as the unseen force drapes the arms of the toy around my shoulders, wrapping them across my throat . . . slowly tightening them like a scarf.
And I wake from my afternoon nap, my mind troubled and my skin crawling.
Even now, as I hurry to take this down before the details of the dream fade, I realize something even more chilling: Whatever unseen hand was at work in my dream, it was large enough to lift the toy high overhead. And I am over six feet tall.
That is, it is no child.
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