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Bullldozed Road

My wife and I are visiting relatives in New Jersey. I have made the dream trip from New Jersey to Scranton many times. It is half map and half road. There is always an uphill climb for the car as we enter Scranton on the road-map. Once we get to the top of the hill the map portion disappears and I can see the real road half way to Binghamton; or thirty miles northward.

So you see – – – there is no concern as I make the trip for the n-teenth time.

I have departed the kinfolk’s house in New Jersey and am on the highway. I pass a large group of buildings that appear to be government buildings. They appear to be in the context of some sort of airport. I determine this because one of the buildings is three or four stories tall and has windows all around – – – it must be a control tower.

Suddenly the highway is reduced in size – – – from four lanes to two – – – and I realize I have somehow gotten on the wrong road. I look for an establishment that may have people willing to help me out; a store, a gas station or something on that order.

I pass several buildings that do not appear to have people in them. I see a building on the left that may be a bistro. I pull into one of only two parking spaces in front. As I exit the car I double check to ensure that I can get back on the highway and go in either direction. I notice that there are several parking spaces to the side of the store. There is one car and one pickup truck parked there.

My wife and I walk inside and there appears to be no one there. I say “Hello?” and a man comes out from behind a counter. I tell him my problem and inform him that once I am on the correct road I will have no trouble getting home.

He reaches over to a stack of free maps and opens one on a table. He studies it for a minute and then quietly marks several points along a road. He straightens up and smiles – – – quite satisfied with himself. I look at the map to ensure I know the route number. It is only then that I see a town off to the side – – – it has the name “Stuttgart!”

I question the man’s directions and he says – – – without the least amount of embarrassment – – – “Let’s talk to my wife, she knows about these things.”

He leads the way to the back of the building which is – – – now apparent to me – – – a small grocery store that serves sandwiches and the like. We are in a kitchen that appears empty and the man calls out his wife’s name. She is a little short thing and has been hidden by an open cupboard door. He explains the problem.

She produces another map – – – which for some reason appears more reasonable to me – – – and lays out the directions northward. It is route 7E. I ask her if that is the highway in front of the store. She says “Yes, 7F!” I am now confused between the contradictory directions and decide to take to the highway. I ask for clarity on which way I turn to go northward and am told “Turn right as you enter the highway.”

We do so and are moving towards our destination. The highway enters a small town and the pavement has been torn up in preparation for replacement. It is very rough. There is a fork in the road. The left hand appears to be a side street. The right hand side appears to lead back into the countryside. There are no road signs.

I take the right hand road. It gets worse. Now the road turns into a deep gully which has been recently cut by a bulldozer. The sides of the road are mounded with large piles of fresh dirt. The roadway is also fresh dirt with boulders here and there. I avoid them and then notice that there are no tire tracks in the fresh dirt.

I am the first car to take this road!

Branches hang down and scratch the side and top of the car. I decide to turn around. There is an opening in the dirt bank on the left. I pull through it and into a field.

That is all.

Maybe I will find out what happens in another dream.

(Additional dreams will be published in the following days. In the meantime you may check out my books – – HERE – – if you wish.)

§©♠ w. tomosky