A woman who has the same nightmare for 35 years discovers that her dream was actually a reality.
From the time I was about 13 until I was 48 I was troubled by a vivid nightmare. I would have the nightmare every so often, usually if I was stressed. It never failed to wake me, making me feel uneasy and guilty. Sometimes I would just wake up frightened and know it had visited me again.
I was about 11. I was in Michel, the town I was born in. Michel consisted of two rows of duplexes facing each other but separated by two roads made of coal dust. A row of outhouses ran between the two roads. It was Fall in my dream and the air was cool, enough to make me feel chilled to the bone. The leaves on the hillside were changing. The sun had gone down and everything was a bit grey. It was after supper, but before dark.
In my dream, my friends Pete and Barb are with me. So is my cousin Kathleen. We are sitting between two of the duplexes. We are talking about Lightning.
Lightning is a man who lived in Michel. We didn’t really know anything about him. He worked at the mine and he was different, in that he didn’t have a wife or children. He wasn’t one of us. We didn’t know how he got to Michel or who his people were. He didn’t smile much.
We would see Lightning walking to and from work, but not doing much else. I am not sure even why we called him Lightning. We were pretty sure he was some kind of criminal. I mean, everyone except the Polish brothers who lived next to Barb, had wives at least. Where was Lightning’s wife? It wasn’t long til we knew he’d killed her. And was also a spy. He was hiding things. One of our favorite activities was to tell each other stories of the horrific atrocities Lightning had committed. It’s no wonder he was in my nightmare too.
In that nightmare, we go further than just talking about Lightning and his crimes. We decide that it’s up to us to find out exactly what he is really up to. We hatch a plan. While he is at work we will check out his house. Kathleen and Barb stand guard, and Pete and I are to go in. We pry a window open but we are not prepared to drop down when we climb in, so we both fall to the floor. Kathleen and Barb are holding the window open.
We are in Lightning’s living room. My heart is beating so fast and so hard. In the dimly lit and dusty room there are newspapers stacked everywhere. Pete has turned white and is looking up, speechless. I follow his gaze, and scream. Above us is a huge stuffed owl watching our every move. Then, from outside, Barb and Kathleen start yelling, “He’s coming he’s coming” and the window crashes shut. We cannot pry it open. We start crying and then, frantic, we hear him come in the back door. I am pulling on the doorknob to the door but it’s stuck. Pete pulls too and it suddenly releases, knocking us down.
We can hear him coming. We fly out the door and don’t look back. We are running and then Pete is gone and I keep running, feeling as though my lungs will burst, with every vision of the murders Lightning has committed swirling in my head. I am scared, nearly to death, until I wake up.
The dream comes back to haunt me. It is always the same; we never get caught. I am always frightened, and sometimes I’m angry when I wake up. The child in me wonders why they dropped the window shut and left us trapped inside. The adult knows they had no choice but to run.
It haunts me until the Christmas of the year I am 48. Pete is my neighbor. We have a tradition of drinking champagne and orange juice on Christmas morning. On this particular Christmas we are reminiscing as we always do, about Michel. Pete says, “Do you remember when we broke into Lightning’s house?” I am stunned. It was real? It really happened? He shares his memory of it and it matches my dream almost to the minute. I am speechless.
The power of my mind to block out what had terrified me so, and the power of my conscience to recreate it, amazes me. As soon as I acknowledged it, talked about that giant horrible owl with someone else who had seen it, the dream stopped. We must have all just ran in separate directions that night. I would have run to my grandmother’s as my family no longer lived in Michel after I was eight.
Lightning did not approach our parents to tell them what we had done. Perhaps he did not know who we were. I am sure we were all terrified that he would. We grew up in a time and a community when adults spoke with each other about children’s behavior. We did not talk to each other about what we had done.
I have since questioned my mother about who Lightning really was. She is not sure. She was surprised at what I had done. It was not in my character. I know we had no right to invade his privacy. MY conscience knew we had done something very wrong.
Later I was introduced to To Kill a Mockingbird. I loved the book. I read it over and over again until my copy fell apart. The similarities between Boo Radley and Lightning did not trigger my mind into remembering what we had done. Something in me continued to deny it and to dream about it. Lightning was the Boo Radley of my childhood.
I have wondered about him since Pete told me it was all real. Wondered who he was, and where he went. I try not to let my imagination run away with it though.
Photo Credit
“Hipsta Horror 3. iPhone 3Gs” Kimb0lene @ Flickr.com. Creative Commons. Some Rights Reserved.
Wow, Donna! Chilling to have that nightmare, and then to discover it was true. As I was reading, I kept thinking this sounded like Boo Radley. I too have read To Kill A Mockingbird many, many times but not with the attachment that it must have had for you! Please keep us posted as your awareness about this event unfolds! I’m curious to see if anything else surfaces.
Dan