I am traveling to a city in California to live. I'm driving a car that needs fixing. I am going up a hill that is so steep that I am now climbing hand over hand like a mountain climber and it is scary because I might lose my grip. A young man from the California town meets me and says, "Why did you take that way?" I say, "I don't know." So now I'm driving down a road, with curves and woods. Then we see the town, a small country town with one main street. Now I am a woman in a power wheelchair and the person coming to this town for a job is a man in a wheelchair. He says, "Are there any ramps in this town?" The man guiding us says there wasn't a one, but by tomorrow every place will have one. The young man says, "There, that's the place I'll be working," and points to a counter and a cash register, in a sort of drugstore, gift shop place, but now a sort of city picnic thing is going on and I walk down the street. I say to the young man who is wearing a leather jacket, "Come see the show." He says, "I'll be playing my guitar over there." Katrina and her son are there. She says, "They'll do magic tricks over here." We follow her and watch as she pulls out a few cheap firework tricks for her son. I sit and the young man lays down in front of me, relaxed, on the grass. I look at him and then quietly reach over and kiss him, which surprises him. I am basically inquiring if he would be receptive to this sort of thing. He squirms and says something about already having a girlfriend. I guess I'm too old for him. My feelings are not hurt; I simply asked. He's free to respond anyway he wishes. I look over to a young woman in front of him and ask with my eyes about the kiss, but we both pass on it. Now Katrina is explaining the trick, which involves 25 round, tiny disks in a pile. The son has a Bic lighter and has trouble lighting it. It clicks and clicks. I think, "I'm glad I don't do tricks that require fire, too unpredictable."