This is the first story that came to mind and went to print shortly after conception. It stems from a recent dream from which I woke up laughing so hard, my wife couldn’t determine if I was laughing or crying due to tears coming from my eyes.
The dream takes place on the farm where a lot of my REALLY weird dreams start. It took me back to the time that elm trees lined both sides of the driveway and the family cruised around in the big boats – either the 1959 or 1961 Cadillacs.
A storm had just passed. Dad and I were driving out to pick up the elm limbs that so characteristically dislodge themselves from the trees whenever the wind blows or somebody sneezes. As we were headed south, we met a skeleton (with eyeballs) sitting in the drive on a go-cart. This was not your garden variety ancestors-dropped-by-for-a-visit skeleton, more of an Achmed the dead terrorist type.
Reflecting back on the image that was generated in my mind, he was looking down, more bewildered than threatening. Perhaps he was mis-routed by his GPS on the way to visit kin in a rural cemetery. I do not know why I would mean him harm other than it was just plain creepy, besides why waste a perfectly good go-cart?
In my dream world, I was surprised Dad ignored the intruder, got out of the vehicle crossing in front, and started to pick up limbs. I wasn’t going to stand for this so I carefully got out of the back of the car, walked around the tail fins, and slid into the driver’s seat. As I yelled, “Rattle Rattle Mother-! “ (the sound I anticipated on hearing as the bones clattered against the vintage Detroit iron and chrome), I proceeded to grasp the column shifter, and had my right foot located above the accelerator ready to summon the four-barrel carburetor to deliver copious amounts of fuel into the purring V8.
Before harm befell our guest, I woke up, laughing hard enough from the cornball dream to shake the bed. My wife was awakened by this and turns over and asks if I’m OK. I struggled through my laughter as I explained the story. I don’t know if she understood the story but believe she found very little amusement over being woke up over it.
A 1959 Cadilla Sedan De Ville. Photo: Wikipedia/Lars-Goran Lindgren
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