By Myra St. Clair Baldwin
Last night I had a dream about my sister Joyce and me. We were sitting around a coffee table with a female friend of hers in a home (hers or her friend’s). She and her friend had their cell phones out and decided to charge some things to a few other guys’ accounts. Her friend said they weren’t likely to get caught, because these guys were not likely to look at their statements. My sister had no reason to commit these crimes other than for the thrill of it. She hadn’t committed any crimes since childhood, apart from the abusive spy operation I believed she and others had put me through, as well as underage drinking (which most everyone does). She had her own successful business (unlike my business which isn’t making it off the ground) and her husband is a civil engineer. They’re financially well off with no addictions to feed (except for shopping) and for my sister’s full adult life she’s been a social climber making all the “right” choices (though she has a shopping addiction for brand new consumer clothes & goods). It should be noted that the production and distribution of global consumer goods is as hard on the environment and as exploitative as street drug & pharmaceutical production, cars, and non-bioregional non-organic non-GMO food, but she obeyed the law anyway and worked hard (she’s blessed with natural high energy and is smart, so she’s been able to climb the ladder, unlike me who suffers from chronic fatigue and sometimes brain fog, plus I also learned about the evils of capitalism in college). Anyway she initially charged something to someone else’s account and felt kind of nervous but also kind of excited. Then she did it again and felt really excited, like that former high school lab teacher on Breaking Bad who starts producing & selling meth and gets a charge from it despite not using it himself. She exclaimed “I’m a criminal!” excitedly.
Anyway, her friend miscalculated, and somehow this indirectly led to a man’s death. I’m not sure how, but anyway they were afraid of getting caught. I wanted her to get caught, because I reasoned that would prove she was “criminally minded” and would help me build my case against her, my other siblings, and others who I believed spied on me. But I didn’t want to let on that I was planning to rat her out because I was afraid she might kill me to avoid a prison sentence. I decided to wait until I got home and then join the secret witness protection program. So I kept quiet. I went out to lunch with her and a couple others later and kept quiet. Then she had a party going on at her house with people coming and going, including a couple people I recognized from high school and tried to say “hi” to. People were also partying outside in the back yard. Somebody handed me a statement that had two items on it; one for $200 and one for $300 and it had a man’s name on it; apparently it was a statement for a guy who my sister and her friend stole from. I held onto it – but later someone wanted to see it and I handed it to them. She looked at it and gave me a surprised look and I said, “It wasn’t me!” Then I was afraid I had said to much, so I continued to be quiet while trying to appear social. The lady I had handed it to was showing others at the party and they were talking about it. I feared how this would turn out.
Later that evening, there were a few people outside in the front of her house. A man was outside in the middle of the street – a man they stole from – who had just coincidentally happened to stop by and had the statement in his hand. Apparently he was told that the statement was a bill for the alcohol for the party to cover up what the charges were really for, and he was talking about how unfair it was that he received a bill for the alcohol when no one else at the party had.
The next day I was with Joyce and a few others outside on someone’s lawn. I was standing with my back to the street facing the others and Joyce was on the right. I loudly blurted out a quote from the alleged spy operation. I can’t remember what the quote was; it was something that one of my spies said, and it was really fitting to the occasion. Perhaps it was “Is she criminally minded?” which I had heard Joyce herself say during the alleged spy operation, though in the spy operation, it was directed at me instead of herself. Everyone to the left of Joyce was looking at me, not understanding what I was talking about. Then I looked at Joyce and she let out some laughter like she recognized the quote, and then I laughed. I looked at everyone else and they looked at me like I was crazy, so I said “It’s an inside joke. You would have had to be there to get it!” I didn’t want to mention the spy operation because they would just act like it never happened and I was just schizophrenic.
Then I woke up, so I’m not sure how this story would have ended.