My stomach was all torn up this morning.
I had this time portal dream where Gil and I are 7 and 9, respectively. (I’m 2 years older) For reasons unexplained, we’re being held prisoner by this pudgy WASP type in this modernized house in Reseda. The address is 8111 Batha Street, and there are spruce and cherry trees out front, a toy plastic bicycle on the lawn, and fallen acorns on the driveway.
It’s gray outside, like San Francisco gray, where no one wants to get out of the house but smoke and cook vegan pasta and read books in living rooms. Anyways, I’m freaking the fuck out, being older than Gil, who is exploiting his youth and naivete to his advantage. The thought of being kidnapped by a strange, manic, but sweet guy hasn’t fully entered his brain, but it’s all I can think about. My stomach is compressed, my lungs burn from restrained tears and my head is shaking in panic. He’s offering Gil cookies and milk – smiles sadistically and restrains me with his fat hand on my chest, pushing me back into the plush, beige couch if I try to move too quickly.
I have my Google phone on me, which is somehow impossible because it hasn’t even been invented yet. I write a message to my brother Edahn…I can see the words…
We’ve been kidnapped. This is not a joke. We’re on 8111 Batha Street. Send the cops. There’s a hallway to the left when you enter, and we’re in the first door on the left. I’ll be, I am waiting. This is not a joke. He has weapons. Bring SWAT.
Gil called me at 9.36. I tell him everything, my stomach still hurts. It was so real. It took hours to go through. He looks up the address. It EXISTS. But it’s in South Carolina.
You want to know the sick, twisted ending? As I’m walking to school I started thinking how I could work this whole thing into an ad.