I woke up this morning dreaming about making a simulated volcano out of clay and water and steam. There was some sort of remote control trigger that would set it off. My friend Lisa made one, but it was small. So then I put time into making a bigger one, about 8 feet tall, and it was outdoors. I stocked the pit with whatever chemical we were using, which was like ice and electricity.
I pulled the trigger and there was a lot of steam, a very satisfying amount. Then the pit began to boil and throw foam over the side of the volcano. The bubbles oozed down the side toward us, and I told her that this is just what the lava must have looked like millions of yeas ago. Then I realized it was time to wake up.
I had been tossing and turning in bed for a while now.
Before I met up with Lisa to make volcanos, I was at a funeral for my great grandma. It was horrific. My brother was late for a meeting he was supposed to have in the jungle, and I was supposed to drive him there and come back, but by the time he was ready to leave it was too lave for either of us to leave the funeral. It figures with him anyway.
So we walked into the church. It was a massive building, like a concert hall, except there was no rear wall. The back just opened up to a forest, and behind the sanctuary were massive pipes for an organ and the highest pulpits I’ve ever seen.
We formed a line to walk up the the casket and pay our last respects. I think I remember asking someone if I had to go up to the casket because I didn’t want to. It’s weird, because I think I actually did this at my great grandma’s wake when i was nine.
I finally made it to the stage. The casket was fully open and in the shape of a coffin. My great grandma was in a light purple Sunday dress, but we’ll get to that. The inside of the coffin was about the size of a queen bed, lined with crushed red velvet and buttons. My great grandma was withered and small in the giant casket.
I gripped the wood and looked in. I began to think about how I knew her. Then, she started moving. Eyes closed and mouth closed. Lurching and rolling about in the enormous space. I stepped back as her shoulders rocked.
The priest hurriedly closed the casket and said that this sometimes happens when people have been dead for awhile. “They aren’t coming back to life,” he said, “it’s just a combination of gasses and muscles contracting that move the body around. Like when you pull a leg off of a daddy long-legs.” I thought of all the dead people I know rolling around in their coffins years after we buried them. “I want to be cremated,” I said.
We all hurried out of there. My brother caught a ride to the jungle. I had to clear my head by making a volcano. Let me tell you, that volcano was a wild success.