The missing gangster mystery -- Another weird dream

[kybearfuzz]

First, big birthday hugs to the very handsome clintswan.

This morning's dream was obviously influenced by last night's showing of Sin City and my reading a "Ghosts" comic book before bed.

I was in college or working for a newspaper or something. I was following up on the history of a gangster named Capone (I know, how original) who had disappeared while on trial. All that I knew was that his last known appearance was a small country restaurant on US 25 in my hometown of Corbin, KY.

So I drive my car to this restaurant in the middle of the day and walk in. The restaurant seems deserted and old, but very clean -- lots of wooden tables and chairs, windows and curtains, wood paneling. I realize now that I’m in the Sanders Café restaurant, which was Colonel Sanders place, where KFC started. I call out but there is no one there. Not wanting to trespass, I try to leave only to find the doors will no longer open. I’m stuck in there.

I wander about to see if there is another exit, but none of them will open for me. I figure that I may as well look about since I’ll have to wait for someone to open the doors for me. As dreams seem to move me about, I leave the main dining area to a large formal party room, large rugs on the floor, but no tables or chairs set up. Having been to the Sanders Café, I can tell you that this doesn’t exist. There is a man with slicked black hair and wearing an older type suit standing at the door to the room, but he doesn’t move or speak. I seem to realize that he’s not there to interfere or help me in any way.

Thinking that the gangster never left this place, I snoop about this room, looking for any clues to a missing man from years ago. It’s a dream, I know, but dreams don’t mandate logic or that people would have cleaned up in all those years. I find nothing. While walking across the carpet, I feel a slight bump. A cellar? I realize that there is a chamber or something below this room.

Pulling back the carpets, which seem to be many layers, I find a circular lid. I pull the lid off, expecting to have some rancid odor hit me, but nothing does. I see another room, laden with shadows but lit. The floor of this room is covered in newspapers, all with headlines about the trial and the gangster. They are just scattered all over the place. In the middle of the room I see a body on top of the papers, illuminated by the circle of light from the entrance. Grabbing my camera, I start taking pictures from the entrance. I don’t try to go down there. It seemed like a bad idea.

The man in the room says, “I’m sorry, but the phones are disconnected.” I finally realize that the man at the entry way is the gangster I was investigating. I look up to find him gone. I now realize that the body, though not decomposed it seems, has the same slicked black hair and old style suit he was wearing. I start to freak out, realizing that I’ve solved the mystery, but that I didn’t do it necessarily by myself. I want out of that place bad. I go to a phone at a desk, but it doesn’t work. I remember what the man said about them being disconnected.

I cover the lid back up with the carpets and go upstairs to the main entrance. Sun shines through the windows. I reach for my cell phone in my bag and call home. My aunt Ruth answers to my surprise and I tell her I’m trapped in the restaurant on US 25. A slight sliver of light catches my eye on the wall. I walk over to it and recognize it as a seam for a door, a door to the outside hidden by the paneling. I give it a push and it opens.

As I walk out, a stocky kid appears and asks me what I’m doing there. I tell him that I’m investigating the disappearance of the gangster. He tells me that I should talk to his dad who runs the restaurant and knows all about it. He says that his dad will be opening up in a bit, but may be too busy as a tour bus is coming to visit the apparent tourist attraction. He makes it sound like it’s a big deal because business is down. Smiling at him, I say something like, “Don’t worry, I think business is about to pick up."

Comments

[hankbear.livejournal.com]

That is sure a strange dream. I've been to that original KFC, so I can see how it fits into your dream.

[kybearfuzz.livejournal.com]

They are always strange, it seems, but kind of fun.

You've been to Corbin? If you only knew how close to my home you were ;)

[hankbear.livejournal.com]

I spent a few days there a couple of years ago. I was in a long-distance relationship and Corbin was pretty much midway between where the two of us lived. We had some pretty good food, enjoyed the sights, and went through a few flea markets.

Kentucky sure is beautiful.

[kybearfuzz.livejournal.com]

I certainly can't argue with you, I love it here, but I do wish it wasn't such a conservative commonwealth.

[scifibear99.livejournal.com]

I would still like to know how you can remember your dreams so vividly. Mine seem to fade quickly after I wake up. Have you ever considered writing a book. With your imagination, I think you would be very successful.

[kybearfuzz.livejournal.com]

I've never consider writing one, I guess, because the material would only come and go if I relied on dreams ;)

[scifibear99.livejournal.com]

With your imagination, I don't think you would have to rely only on the dreams.

[clintswan.livejournal.com]

thankyou!

[kybearfuzz.livejournal.com]

You're very welcome. Where do I give you your birthday spankings??? :D