Bear Dream

I dreamt that you and I were in California, swimming in an artificial pool just against the ocean, it looked like an outdoor aquarium like the kind you'd find at Sea World or the Monterrey Bay Aquarium. I told you how the sea in California frightened me even more than the ocean in Hawaii. It seemed rougher, the waves were bigger, the water a deeper navy blue than the opalescent water in Hawaii.

As I looked around the rocking waters, I saw a grizzly bear paddling through the water, his head jutting out like a dog's. Scanning, I saw another and another. I whispered to you, "Look, bears!" and you nodded. You breathed out and sunk to the bottom of the tank, hoping to hide from them. And as you sunk down, eyes tightly shut, the back of your hand grazed the side of the bear's body, you didn't recognize it immediately, but then you realized how close you were and flinched.

Quickly, the bear reached under the water and nosed your torso, and then he had you in his jaws. I jumped out of the pool and ran inside to the desk, "Call 911!" I shouted. "My husband is being attacked by a bear!" "We know" said the girl calmly, leafing through the telephone book, "I am looking for the number."

I ran back out to the pool, the bear was gone, someone was shouting instructions at you to compress your stomach to avoid blood loss, but the pool was empty. You were alone. I jumped into the pool and held your limp body, blood spiraling out from it. I didn't know if I could lift you alone.

And then the alarm woke me.