Amnesiac Liam Neeson

December 30, 2010

I had a strange dream last night:

The muffled roar of a small airplane engine fills the cabin while I hold eye contact with an African girl.  Her mother is sitting behind her and we are all facing each other trying to pick out the right kind of glasses for her to wear.  We find a suitable pair and the noise of the small engine mutes out; it almost feels like zero gravity.  The girl starts to tremble, her eyes well up with water and she whispers to me,

“The vampire, the one that plays the piano, is looking for you.”

I ask her to explain but before she can offer one, the plane rocks and begins a plummet to the ground.  Three quarters of the way there, an elderly man appears outside of the plane door, opens it, smiles in at us, pushes off and 2 other men appear close by and their parachutes open.  I yell out to the girl and her mother that we do not need to worry about crashing, we can just jump out and use our parachutes.  However, there is a slight problem: we do not have parachutes.  One hundred feet from impact, I jump from the plane into the river below; the impact sends my body reeling with pain.  I hold my breath and kick my legs but am sucked further down and out by the sinking plane.  I clap my hands together under the water and it sends shockwaves in every direction, catapulting me to the surface.

The water is only thigh-deep for some reason and the ground under it is very smooth and rubbery.  A dog appears close by and barks at me to get my attention so I will follow it.  I ignore it and notice that another hundred feet or so to my left, the plane that had supposedly thunderously crashed into the water and sank, was peacefully skimming the surface and heading to the shore to be tied up to the dock.

The coast is thick with trees and rising out of the water are towers made of wood and grand staircases.  I ascend one of them and make my way to the back room.  The room is bare with the exception of a bed made of rock.  I piece of wood with a copper wire threaded through the left tip slowly appears in my arms and I carefully lay it on the stone slab, causing a chunk to fall from it and the wire to loosen itself.  A child and young adult male appear next to it; their faces plastered with a look of worry.  Liam Neeson flickers into place on the stone slab, apparently the father of the two lads.  He does not respond to my words and so I lift up his eyelid only to see thick clouds in place of where a human eye should be.

After a few hours pass, he turns back into the piece of wood and I try threading the copper wire back through the original holes.  Liam Neeson again appears, this time walking up the stairs and into the back room I am sitting in with his sons.  He has amnesia and does not remember who his sons are.  I sit him down on the slab and recite pivotal moments of his life in an attempt to jar his memory but I am unsuccessful.  Darkness takes over the room and swallows up the two children, stopping at that point, and leaving the light alone coming from my oil lantern.  I leave the room, descend the stairs and, walking on the water of the river, reach the shore.  I head into one of the stone buildings and am greeted by a few guards who direct me to the eighth floor

Trees all along the coast with wooden buildings sitting on the water–towers.  I climb the stairs of one and pick up a tattered piece of wood.  There is copper wire that was threaded through the end section and as I got it back to the way it was, a piece of wood fell off, leaving the “head” exposed.  Two young men walk up to where I am, with tear-stained faces.  Liam Neeson appears on the piece of wood, which has multiplied in size.  I am trying to rouse him, but I can see through his eyelids and his eyes are cloudy.  He had been in the plane wreck as well.  His younger son tries rousing him desperately and I put a hand on his shoulder and motion for him to keep his voice down and I gently repeat Liam’s name.  Eventually, I look up and a square window grows into view and through it, I see him walking toward us.  When he arrives, his body that is laid out disappears.  He has amnesia.  His lain body reappears and it merges with the walking one and I tell him that he has amnesia and try mentioning memorable parts of his life.  His sons are crying and I leave.

Heading down the stairs, a dog comes up to me but I ignore it as an elderly gentleman tells me what is going on off the coast. It is utter chaos.  I am transported inside one of the buildings-concrete, moist, and very quiet.  Everyone is rushing about and talking but I hear no noise.  I want the dog that had been trying to get my attention but it isnt there now and so I inquire about it and a man points me to floor “, which is downstairs.  One level down and I walk along the walkway–cages on both sides filled with animals rescued from the plane crash.  They are all housed in large, metal crates and barking, chirping, meowing, and roaring.  It is like a depressing Noah’s Ark and I feel pity for all of these abandoned animals.  People are rushing about as I make my way around the corner to a doorway.  Above it, painted in white is the word “Eighth”.  The door cracks numerous times and slowly splinters into a thousand pieces.  I walk through the door and wake up.

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