Angus Hawthorne

 

I was in the dream, but I wasn’t me. I was an angry, forlorn person. And the house was a large, dilapidated structure that contained the remains of several generations.

A couple of drunken men stood over the grave of a young child, singing a sad little story of the child’s death at the hands of one Angus Hawthorne. “Where is this Hawthorne?” I asked. They pointed to my left, but begged me not to rouse the murderer.

It seemed perfectly natural that in my dream, I never walked, but instead seemed to be transported on a wave of rage, my feet never touching the ground. It seemed I floated over a tomb upon which sat a large finely carved wooden name plate such as one might find on the desk of an executive. “Angus Hawthorne,” the dark block letters read.

With a furious swipe, I knocked the ugly name off the grave and it shattered against the wall. In a rage I screamed the awful name and cursed that fate which denied me the pleasure of killing the monster that had tormented the child.

I remember being on the front porch of the house, brooding life in general when someone said, “You’ve done it.” “Done what?” I asked. “He has awakened.”

It wasn’t a wave of rage this time, but sheer terror that carried me back to that room. The name plate I had shattered was now sitting atop the tomb with nary a scratch on it. But the concrete slab had a gaping hole, as if something had burst from inside the grave with the brute violence of a cannonshot. A cold chill ran down my spine.

Again, I was brooding, watching the deserted street from the front porch. He would come for me. And I would take my place along side that child. Then, deciding to go down swinging, I loudly called out the name of the miserable wretch, and went back inside looking for him!

It seemed the house had a heartbeat. Or was it my heart, beating faster by the moment? The chill started on the back of my neck and then seemed to wrap itself around me. A scream to my right, followed by a loud gasp! The chill grew colder still and, with a jolt, I awakened. The scream had been the brake pads squealing as the truck next to me backed into the parking space. The gasp, the release of the air brake. The cold chill reminded me that it’s in the 20’s tonight and I should turn on the heat. What a night…

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Members have made 22 comments.

  1. Profile photo of Joan of Ark La Tex Member

    Yikes. Drive safe Dave and find a way to vent all that negative energy. 

    • #1
    • November 24, 2012 at 6:53 am
  2. Profile photo of Colin B Lane Inactive

    Let’s see: you were in Chicago recently…. As a man of the grave, Angus probably cast no less than 10 votes for Obama. You were right to be terrified.

    • #2
    • November 24, 2012 at 6:54 am
  3. Profile photo of Dave Carter Contributor
    Dave Carter Post author

    It’s rare that I remember my dreams. Much rarer still that I remember them with the clarity that I remembered this one. I woke at 3Am, remembering every detail it seemed,….so reached for the smart phone to jot it all down. Having done so, it occurred that it would make for a real change of pace on Ricochet. I like Colin B Lane’s interpretation. Any others?

    • #3
    • November 24, 2012 at 7:03 am
  4. Profile photo of Edward Smith Inactive

    Now that’s a dream!

    Sigmund-Freud-Cigar.jpg

    • #4
    • November 24, 2012 at 7:44 am
  5. Profile photo of Trink Member

    Edgar Allan Poe could not have improved on this nightmare.

    My flesh was crawling before the denouement. 

    What a fascinating mind you possess . . . that even suspended in unconsciousness, it spins a narrative of the eternal dark mysteries of the human drama.

    Sleep is not always kind.

    ” To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub . . ”

    Dave . . wishing you safe travels, a soft pillow and kinder dreams.

    • #5
    • November 24, 2012 at 8:17 am
  6. Profile photo of Mike Wagner Inactive

    As a student of history, especially American Civil war history, I have very recently come to understand the anger, rage, bitterness, betrayal (yea all that stuff!) that tore apart even sons from fathers, brother from brother. This is even worse than the experience of combat and loss in Vietnam. So you being an “old school” American, a vet, are suffering the loss of our country as we have known or at least perceived it to be. Our freedom and liberty as envisioned by the our founders has always been like a child that could be violated by the hopelessly obscene, if not guarded and nourished with unfailing vigilance. So….many of us are suffering deep distress at this time and ….you had a dream, unique to your psyche but in type like what is manifest in so many of us. 

    • #6
    • November 24, 2012 at 8:22 am
  7. Profile photo of Trink Member

    @Mike Wagner.

    Compelling and poignant analysis.

    • #7
    • November 24, 2012 at 8:28 am
  8. Profile photo of Stan Hjerleid Thatcher

    @ Mike Wagner, @Trink. I’m not smart enough to analyze but I have suspicions. We’ll get through this. Stay safe Dave and you are in my prayers.

    • #8
    • November 24, 2012 at 10:40 am
  9. Profile photo of dogsbody Inactive

    On the one hand, I don’t want you to have more nightmares, Dave. On the other hand, this one made for a great story, a “gripping tale” as they say. In a way, the best thing I’ve read on Ricochet in many months.

    • #9
    • November 25, 2012 at 1:31 am
  10. Profile photo of Dave Carter Contributor
    Dave Carter Post author
    Trink: … What a fascinating mind you possess . . . that even suspended in unconsciousness, it spins a narrative of the eternal dark mysteries of the human drama. …

    You’re very kind. Others would simply say that I have issues. Thank you.

    • #10
    • November 25, 2012 at 2:09 am
  11. Profile photo of Dave Carter Contributor
    Dave Carter Post author
    Mike Wagner: As a student of history, especially American Civil war history, I have very recently come to understand the anger, rage, bitterness, betrayal (yea all that stuff!) that tore apart even sons from fathers, brother from brother. This is even worse than the experience of combat and loss in Vietnam. So you being an “old school” American, a vet, are suffering the loss of our country as we have known or at least perceived it to be. Our freedom and liberty as envisioned by the our founders has always been like a child that could be violated by the hopelessly obscene, if not guarded and nourished with unfailing vigilance. So….many of us are suffering deep distress at this time and ….you had a dream, unique to your psyche but in type like what is manifest in so many of us. · 5 hours ago

    This would explain my character’s resignation to his fate, yet the pure fury that sent on the hunt for the would-be hunter. In the dream, I knew I was on the losing side, but I would avenge the child. Interesting! And thank you very much! 

    • #11
    • November 25, 2012 at 2:12 am
  12. Profile photo of Dave Carter Contributor
    Dave Carter Post author
    Matthew Gilley: Uh, Dave? You think it’s, you know, time to at least, uh … consider – maybe – a permanent road companion? I’m thinking of something like Jerry Reed’s Bassett hound. Just a thought. In the meantime, I’ll resume my furious anagram scramble to wrestle some meaning out of “Angus Hawthorne.” So far, “aghast whore nun” works but has just raised more questions. Back to the Scrabble board…. · 2 hours ago

    Matt, …you come up with “aghast whore nun,” and you’re worried about me getting a dog? Back off the egg nog, my friend. Speaking of which, ya got any leftover?

    • #12
    • November 25, 2012 at 2:14 am
  13. Profile photo of Dave Carter Contributor
    Dave Carter Post author
    dogsbody: On the one hand, I don’t want you to have more nightmares, Dave. On the other hand, this one made for a great story, a “gripping tale” as they say. In a way, the best thing I’ve read on Ricochet in many months. · 42 minutes ago

    While I appreciate the compliment, you’ll perhaps forgive me if I’m not anxious to add any more chapters to this story any time soon.

    • #13
    • November 25, 2012 at 2:15 am
  14. Profile photo of Nanda Panjandrum Inactive
    Nanda Panjandrum

    Been reading Dickens/Poe, Dave? <Shivering>

    • #15
    • November 25, 2012 at 2:41 am
  15. Profile photo of Dave Carter Contributor
    Dave Carter Post author
    Nanda Panjandrum: Been reading Dickens/Poe, Dave? <Shivering> · 5 minutes ago

    Not in a very long time. Which makes this all the more interesting, …to me at least.

    • #16
    • November 25, 2012 at 2:47 am
  16. Profile photo of GLDIII Reagan

    Mushroom soup at the last stop, with perhaps the wrong mushrooms?

    • #17
    • November 25, 2012 at 3:45 am
  17. Profile photo of Diaryof1 Inactive
    Angus meaning and name origin

    Angus a-ngus, an-gus as a boy’s name is pronounced ANG-guss. It is of Celtic origin, and the meaning of Angus is “one choice”.

    • #18
    • November 25, 2012 at 5:25 am
  18. Profile photo of Matthew Gilley Member

    Uh, Dave? You think it’s, you know, time to at least, uh … consider – maybe – a permanent road companion? I’m thinking of something like Jerry Reed’s Bassett hound. Just a thought. In the meantime, I’ll resume my furious anagram scramble to wrestle some meaning out of “Angus Hawthorne.” So far, “aghast whore nun” works but has just raised more questions. Back to the Scrabble board….

    • #20
    • November 25, 2012 at 12:06 pm
  19. Profile photo of Robert E. Lee Member

    This means you’ve got to write more. And start bringing along more traveling companions. I’d bet you’d have no shortage of volunteers to travel with you for a few weeks at a time.

    • #21
    • November 26, 2012 at 7:03 am
  20. Profile photo of Eeyore Member

    “I wasn’t me. I was an angry, forlorn person.”

    My apologies for invading your dreamspace.

    • #22
    • November 26, 2012 at 11:00 am