11/29/07: down in the belly of the beast

I don't remember the beginning. I am with my Grandma in Manayunk but in a place that is not her house. I am visiting with her for a few days. She lives alone it seems. We are talking. She is going to go visit Aunt Laura, I think young John is going to drive her. I am talking to her, happy to be there with her, but I realize it will be my last visit with her, my last trip to Philly before she is gone. I am nearly overcome with sadness but I don't want to upset her. I wonder what to do with the day. It will be nice to have some time to waste before she gets back from Aunt Laura's. Unclaimed time, always a momentary relief, after which I will see her again later in the day. I think about walking down to the river and I consider getting a pack of menthols. I have quit but the situation is a little upsetting so maybe I will smoke to soothe my troubles. Then we are together in some sort of small community center or meeting place or something where they have a lunch spread set out and the food is cheap. The sandwiches look like they are made with good Philly lunch meat. Grandma tells me to get some food if I want some. I am hungry but I don't get any food. Then we are outside and I think in a neighborhood in Knoxville, sort of a granola feel to it, off Broadway perhaps, and the community folks have some sort of a faux second line marching band. They don't get the New Orleans music quite right but they are enthusiastic and they seem able to sing on key. I have some sort of misshapen hard plastic drum to play. It is not conducive to a good sound but I try and blend in with the percussion. The community gathering is over and people are dispersing. Was there was an attractive young woman in the crowd? I don't need to be messing with that. As I leave I mention to the people that although I don't believe in such things, I have in fact experienced several hauntings in this area. Then I have to get back to Grandmom's. Do I fear a ghost, a haint, the darkness? Up on the top floor of her house a man nervous about arctic deep sea diving must go ahead with his dive. It's on the National Geographic channel. I am in the cold dark water deep below the surface but I can vaguely make out the shape of giant dragons, sea monsters beneath me. I must get back up the line to the surface and breathe. I make my way up and break the surface and tell myself to wait one second and breathe easy. Don't gasp for air. I open my eyes and all around me on the surface of the water is viscera, entrails, the remains of the sea dragon I realize I have just climbed out of. Like Jonah it had swallowed me and I had climbed out, somehow destroying it in doing so. Somewhere in the meat and muck floating on the surface I see a little boxer body, it must be Grace. The dragon must have eaten Grace. Who would want to dive again now? But the show must go on, it is for television. In the third floor room I regret that I will not see it as I do not have the National Geographic channel. But the dive must continue. Life is hard for a wide receiver in the NFL, if you don't play through the pain someone else will take your job.