Little blue bug eyed Sprite

I was probably 10-12 years old and had been shopping with my mom and sisters. As usual I slipped away from them with the agreement that we would meet later a a designated place.

So it was that I found myself at the foot of the escalator to the upper floor of Horne's Department Store in The Whitehall Terrace Shopping Center. I remember the place well as it became the focal part for one of the most life defining dreams that I ever had.


I was standing there daydreaming when a voice pulled me into the present.

"Hey, Do you like cars? I just drove up from Texas in a bug-eyed Austin Healey Sprite. Do you want to see it?" I hesitated. "Oh it's OK we'll be back here in no time, Come on."

And although I know that I had been thoroughly schooled in not taking candy from strangers and every other admonition to stay safe, I am pretty sure that I went with this kind of skinny, 20 something guy. And I am equally sure that I saw the car, because I can picture it so vividly. We went up the escalator turned right and went out doors to the parking lot and there in the second row back form the store was a light blue bug eyed sprite. I am equally sure that I sat inside the car. What isn't so clear is what happened then. In fact my next good memory is meeting my mother and trying to explain why I was late, "I got lost."

Had I been abused. I think so. Something happened out there I just cannot recall what. It is this partial memory that has fueled my personal demon pool and made me wonder about repressed memories, how they are and aren't in the conscious mind. I feel that it also explains why I was so easily swayed by my freind (A Summer Night). It also would explain a lot about my most explicit, disturbing, enchanting and precious dream ever. If there were records kept for dreams most reviewed in the conscious mind years later, this one would win.

I was standing at the foot of the escalator in Horne's. I got on the escalator and as I rode up I changed from a boy into a woman. As I reached the top of the escalator I saw myself in a mirror and reflected with mo fear or surprise, "This is going to be hard to explain to my friends." I got off the escalator and proceeded to shop for new clothes as the escalator had dropped me (as it would in real life) into the women's clothing department.

Did it happen? Who knows, but I do know that this memory is probably the heart of my frequent statements that "nothing good ever came out of Texas." It also has something to do with why though I am enthralled by sports cars, I would never buy one.- especially not a light blue bug-eyed sprite.