Chased by the Dead

September 16, 1975

I had a couple of dreams that first week at Boonville. The first was on the first night I came back. I had an image of looking out over the land from inside a rainbow.

The other dream I had was a few nights later. It was similar to the one I had in Big Sur. Jerry and I had pulled into a gas station with the Dodge van. There was another car there, a shiny, old-fashioned black Bentley or Rolls with big headlights, except it had a third headlight right in the middle on top of the chrome radiator. A middle-aged man came up to me and said I was not going to Cucamunga like I thought. I was about to protest but the next thing I knew he was chasing me.

I ran across a field, and as I ran I was thinking about tripping and the Grateful Dead, and then I cut through some trees where I came to a white house. There was an elderly woman standing outside, very passive and benevolent. I tried to hide behind some sort of large pillar in the yard. I put my hands on it and it felt like sand. I looked down at my feet and saw the pillar had no base. Then the man showed up. He extended his hand, but I only grasped his fingertips. They were cold and greasy or clammy. He and the old woman led me inside where there was a large group of people sitting around a table, and the man said: "He's come home."