tall, skinny houses, ours the 2nd one on the block. camera pans up first one slowly; you see into a room or two on each floor. playing piano. playing chess. having a fight. lamplight.... upstairs barnboard bookstore/bar/coffeehouse-- madrigal/classical singers, a group of 5. He is one of them: angel voice, gruff-looking, vaguely asian, faintly black-- uneven teeth, uneven beard. smart, sardonic flash in his eyes. I ask him if he wants to sing in another group. He agrees to come with me and try it out. me and him in incandescent livingroom. Tim, Dan, et al are in a sunken, coolcement backporch. They dont help me explain anything to him. Still I convince him to join, caution him we suck compared to other groups. He kisses me then, my breath hisses, brain electrifies, heart races! He is the only thing to hold onto but it is he I am falling into! I notice he has gold earrings. Him and me walking thru concourse or mall. Me by his side feeling grounded and elated. Young woman with bemused appraisal passes going the other way. I catch her looking him up and down. I get a snotty strut in my walk because he is Mine! But then she says Hi... and it is clear that she is friends with him. I feel stupid for my posturing. Military/police/secret compound surrounded by oak, limestone, secrecy. He takes me in. They suit me up: vest, gun, etc. We go to auditorium. Suddenly they are all facing me expectantly and they are all black. One man says, Ooooh, a Negro... and I take his point. I say, Well, yeah.... It is clear they dont trust me; I must pass unknown tests. A woman suspects I have illegitimate equipment hidden on me. I volunteer to be searched, step forward, am frisked almost timidly by a small-framed, smooth-skinned man. I go back to my place next to my man from before. Soon I realize my gun is now missing. I know I cannot lay the blame on the one who searched me; something about face or seniority or just not being believed. So I figure I will have to be resourceful soon. Landing with window in institutional-green stairwell. Several of the soldiers/cops attacking me hand-to-hand. Down the stairs they fly at me, and I dispatch them all swiftly, almost effortlessly. I just try karate-type moves and they all work! Soon their half-unconscious forms are piled around me chest deep. I think, Its a good thing that is all because I can hardly move now! My man is at the top of the stairs, smiling, and one or two others are there, not attacking. They are talking, impressed, about my moves. He agrees they were good, but avows, I can do that last one, though! I say, Isnt it awesome? I dont even know what its called but it works great! Finally the days work really begins--but with unexpected urgency. We are being attacked, besieged, by stealthy, Japanese, Ninja-type soldiers armed with rifles. They are closing in fast. Everyone goes to battle stations by windows etcetera, here on the first floor, and many disappear to upper floors. I spy an old revolver through the vestibule glass, and go to retrieve it, but am impeded, either by a bunch of our own moving through, or else by some of the Japs. So I give it up and go outside alone. Somewhere, sublingually, an omnipresent narrator appreciates my renegade move. I begin to make my way around the compound. What Im going to do, I couldnt tell you, but I dont doubt Ill think of something. When I start taking bullets, it occurs to me I could function as a decoy. The bullets only sting, in my left hand, then in my arm, then gradually all over. I grunt and yowl as they hit. I take cover in a hedge momentarily but I cannot stay as I know the bullets will soon rain down more heavily than I can survive. The Japs must be IN the compound, thats where the shots are coming from. Or is it my own people? Did I not pass the test? No, I dont think thats it. (Ann comes home from work early. I awaken, thinking, Stop doing the wrong thing, and the right things will fall into place.