This is Our Home  I'm finally at home. I'm leaving for the Big Resort Area soon: today I think. I need to be up in that area. There is a red sports car in the street. One of the Burns girls from my neighborhood is in the passenger seat, and a man is in the driver's seat. There is another Burns girl, who may be the third girl in the family, and the oldest, in the house. She walks over to the desk by the telephone and picks up a set of keys. Something is wrong with her, and maybe with the Burns family. My mom has a new black bicycle. Our car was recently hit at Sears. My grade school secretary Angie Sacks comes in the house. She has a problem. My mom is upset with the Burns' and Angie. I get involved. I walk over to Angie and stand right next to her to physically intimidate her. She reprimands me for trying to do that. I back off, apologizing, and give her room. I yell at Angie with very strong feelings. There is anger, confusion, chaos, and indecision. I ask Angie to leave. I argue with my mom and the other kids. I tell her that this is our home, our family, and that we love each other. I tell my mom I'm feeling strong resistance to letting anyone in. I am in my room, then, at home. I am going to be late getting to the Big Resort Area because it's after 4:30 pm and I can't call to insure the truck until the next day. I pack my bags. I'm going to do laundry. My dad is at the base of the staircase yelling hysterically. He asks where everyone is. He yells that the purple box on his containers is empty! It needs to have writing in, and his wife Lisa Lawson usually does that. He feels neglected and helpless. He needs caring for. I yell at him furiously, telling him, "You need to calm down!" He does calm down. He counts, like counting to 10. He is shaking and trembling. I hug him. We cry. I cry like I am a little boy. [I awake from this dream with a song in my head. The words go: "And if I call...". I remember the tune, low and droning, and then high pitched.]