As a child I had very few dreams that I remembered. There was one, however, that rocked me, and is still as vivid to me today as it was the morning I woke up.
The automatic doors slid open with a whoosh as I stepped into a record store the size of a K-Mart. Every glance was filled with bins and bins of records, laid out in neat rows.
The group dispersed, my mom and dad going one direction, the others in another, leaving me and my best friend to discover on our own. I had my miniature Hello Kitty playing cards with me, so we decided to play.
Drumroll Please. I had decided to try doing the magician’s basic trick, making the cards fly from one hand to the other. It didn’t work. The cards had now flown all over the store. I bent down to start picking them up, following them in their straight line that snaked around the different aisles.
I had reached the last card. As I went to pick it up I noticed the toe of a cowboy boot. Pan up to the cowboy’s face. It stuck terror into the heart of this 5 year old.
“You’re coming with me,” he said gruffly.
I trembled. “No. Dad?” I looked at him pleadingly, knowing he would help me.
He knelt down on one knee to talk to me, as the others gathered around. The cowboy, too, had his posse surrounding him.
“I think you ought to do what the man says,” he replies quietly.
“No, no, no,” was all I could think inside. As the cowboy took my hand I took one last look at my dad, then woosh, the doors opened and in an instant we were gone.
