Note: I asked Marjorie if she wanted to proof read this story. She refused,
“If it is about a dream I do not want to read it.” Maybe readers might feel
the same way. Especially Bill Proc.
EPISODE 727 MY DREAM
alan skeoch
Jan. 29,
I often dream…detailed dreams that are sometimes amusing and often include people i know well.
Last night for instance Bill Proc was the main man. (I shortened his name to four letters in case someone knows him.)
THE DREAM
Sam and I were jabbering to each other over in the vast Dixie Plaza parking lot when a half ron
truck pulled up beside the garbage container. Surprised to see Bill Proc getting out of the truck.
He looked a little harassed like he wanted to get back in the truck as fast as possible. He even
left the drivers’ side door open. And he had a friend with him.
On the back of the truck was a huge monster steel container. Really big. About 8’ x 3’ x 6’.
Heavy rusted steel plate. Bigger than a breadbasket. Way bigger.
“Hi Bill!”
“Jesus! What the hell are you doing here?”
“What’s up?”
“No time to talk, Al…got to unload this bastard”
And the two of them tipped the monster out of the back of the truck. It hit with a clatter
as in ‘awoke with a clatter to see what was the matter’; Then Bill Proc and friend hopped
in the ruck and buggered off.
I guess they did not see the ‘No Dumping’ sign.
“What in hell’s half acre is Proc doing?”
“I don’t know what he was doing but I do know we should get the hell out of here, Sam.”
So we each drove our separate ways. All that was left in the parking lot was the behemoth put there
by Bill Proc. It towered over the parking lot like a dirty iceberg. Huge. Open at one end. Empty.
The phone was ringing when I got home.
“Is Alan Skeoch living at this number?”
“Yes.”
“You get the hell over here then before I call the police.”
“Who is this?”
“Manager of Dixie Plaza. You were spotted by our security people”
“So what?”
“Smart ass. You dumped a large steel container beside our garbage drums. Can’t you read?”
“I did not do it .”
“Lie! Get over here and get the damn thing….now. No more talk.”
What should I do? Give Bill Proc a call. Give Bill Proc’s name to the Plaza manager. Rat on a
friend?
Best to call our son Andrew. He has a couple of big trucks.
“Andy can you help. I am being charged with illegal dumping over at the Plaza.”’’
“Did you do it?’
(Imagine my own son thinking I could be guilty.)
“No. But I know the guy who did. It was Bill Proc.”
“Get him “
“Can’t. Not sure where he lives and doubt he could tip the rhino back into his
truck. He had a hell of a time dumping it out. You could get help tipping it into
your cube van….electric gate on back.”
“Dad, this sounds stupid.”
“I could get charged…maybe arrested. “
“How big is the thing?”
“Andy, I think about 8 x 6 x3….all steel, open at one end. Seemed empty. You and
Nick could get it loaded.”
“Then what?”
“Then take it to the farm where I keep all those rusted shapes for movie rentals.”
“Dad, you do not need any more of that stuff.”
“Enough lectures…I am in trouble.”
So I Drove over to Dixie
Met Andy and Nick and we loaded the bastard into the cube van.
The manager must have been watching from some peep hole. Then Andy took it
to the farm.
End of story…end of dream?”
No. Believe it or not a movie company phoned.
“Al, we need a big piece of
rusty crap to cover up a computer station in an old factory. Really big and rusty
kind of thing. Got to make the place look like 1945 rather than 2023… Can you help?”
Wonder of wonders. I rented the bastardly behemoth for $200 same day.
Only one question in my mind now.
“Should I tell Bill Proc?”
THEN I WOKE UP. LOOKED OUT THE WINDOW IN CASE IT WAS
NOT A DREAM.
alan skeoch
January 2023
