The Ghost Camry

You may recall that my father had a white Camry ~ I took it from him when he drove off in the middle of the night, got lost, and ended up at the Redondo Beach police station. I drove it for a while, but then realized his V6 engine guzzled gas, so I let it sit in my parking lot. A tire went flat and the battery died (apparently you need to start cars once in a while just like Joel said about Daddy’s Porsche in Risky Business), so I sold it. The person who bought it was a neighbor of my ex-husband’s right here in Huntington Beach.

Wednesday night driving back from Irvine I saw the white Camry on Adams Avenue ~ I knew it was the same car cuz I have the license plate memorized. (Yes, I can still do these useless things.) Later I texted the ex that I had seen the car. He said as long as I hadn’t seen one of my parents driving it, not to worry. Hah.

But then early Thursday morning I had a very disturbing dream. I frequently dream about my mother since she died over 5 years ago, and I still miss her, cry about her, maybe not daily anymore, but often. I rarely if ever dream about my father; his death didn’t affect me. Anyway, I dreamt I was at a restaurant and it was raining hard. My father called on my cell and said he’d pick me up. I had been planning to walk and had a big silly pink umbrella. He said no, wait for him and he’d come by. So I walked outside with my pink umbrella and waited.

I waited a long time and was getting soaked despite the umbrella. Finally I saw his white Camry down the street, but he drove past me and didn’t stop. In fact, he sped up and zoomed off like a maniac. I heard the car after I couldn’t see it ~ I thought for sure the next thing I’d hear would be a crash. But then nothing. He was gone.

Weird.

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3 responses to “The Ghost Camry

  1. Took me a minute to remember that in California, the plate stays with the car. In Missouri and Kansas, it stays with the person. You transfer the plate to your new car, if you trade your car in, for example.
    These dreams seem like they are just unreeling from your brain so they can blow away. I hope so.

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  2. Just Dad reminding you that wherever he is now, he can drive just fine; he just can’t pick up women. 😉

    I’ve always taken comfort in knowing dreams are just “batch-processing” of the day’s events/thoughts, but what to do when David Lynch steps in and offers up an aggressive ghost and a murder? I woke up wondering whose brain my skull actually contains.

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  3. I was kind of weirded out by that dream, but then I read Keera’s assessment, and I like that.

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