Wednesday, January 30, 2008


“You Sequoia?”




“Tell me about your dream.”


“I enter this room full of smoke.  I don’t know where I came from, but I know that I’m here now and the person I’m looking for is in this room.  My hands are outstretched.  It’s cold and there’s all this smoke.”


“Is there some kind of fire in the room?”


“No, it’s freezing in the room.  It’s cigarette smoke.  Like I’m in a bar or a smoker’s lounge or something, but there’s no ventilation, so it’s hard to see anything in front of me.”


“Go on.”


“It’s loud, full of talking, but I don’t sense that there are more than two people in the room.  Me and somebody else.  He’s in front of me, but when I reach out for him, he’s gone.  Smoke covers his tracks.  I’m a tracker and this guy’s untraceable.  I find him in the next room and the smoke is gone.  He’s sitting there fixing a chair.”


“How big is the chair?”


“The one he’s sitting in?”


“No.  The one he’s fixing.”


“It’s small, like some sort of kindergartener’s chair.  He offers me a seat and that’s where the dream ends.”

I see.”


“What does it mean?  I was told you would know.”


“The smoky room denotes that dangerous people are victimizing you with flattery.  Someone close is blowing smoke, but you shouldn’t trust them.  The cold doesn’t bode well either.  Night’s coming fast, you see?  Loud talking means that someone will be interfering in your life very soon.  The whole chair-maker thing is actually a good omen.  That represents pleasant labor before you.”


“What about the size of the chair?  What does that have to do with?”


“I’m not sure I should tell you that.”


“Listen, Whetstone.  I’ve come a long way to get where I am, here in front of you.  Now, you tell me where I go from here or by God, I have no qualms about snapping your weenie neck!  You got me?”


“Okay, okay!  Feltone.”


“Nicky Feltone?”


“The ‘Made’ Nicky Feltone now.  You have to see him.  He’s in a new place.  Clean Street at the dead end.”


“Since when’s Nicky lived on Clean Street?”


“Since he got made.  Where you been?”


“You don’t want to know.  Trust me.  Look, I’ve known Nicky longer than anybody.  He’s about as far away from getting made as Johnny Polka-Dots.”


“It’s true, Sequoia.  You’ve been away a long time.”


“Yeah.  Where do I go?”


“Hit the edge of town until it starts getting clean.  That’s where Clean Street starts.  That’s where you’ll find Feltone.”


“Alright.  Thanks.”


“And Sequoia?  Remember.  Night’s coming fast.”




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