A dream –
Lying in bed in my childhood room at Salem. It’s about 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning. The door opens and in steps a young man in a sailor’s uniform. He seems to be a friend of mine (though no one I actually know) and I call him Bill.
I – “What are you doing here? How did you get leave at a time like this?”
He – “Sh. I went A.W.O.L. I simply had to see my girl.”
But it seems as if we two are the only ones left in the town. When I tell him this, he says he must get back to his ship.
He has a small canvas boat which fits around him something like an Eskimo’s kayak – He starts at once to paddle his way through the water along the Atlantic sea-board. His ship is somewhere off S. Carolina. My imagination, annihilating time & space, leaps ahead of him, and I find myself aboard his ship.
The captain in charge, an army man, has given orders for the ship to proceed as rapidly as possible. Fearful that my friend will never catch up to his ship, I finally tell the Captain that he has gone A.W.O.L. and was trying to return. He, also loving my friend, gave orders for the ship to slacken speed.
Now we have shore leave. It is a village in S. Carolina, the hour when dawn’s first twilight has come. In the village square there are morning-glory vines, and I can dimly see great morning glory flowers red & blue & lavender. Hanging from a trellis are other still larger and of a multiple formation, one “trumpet” growing out of another, and in clusters – beautifully variegated in color.
In a park garden are a great variety of hollyhocks, unlike anything in real life. One was brilliant silver inside, and gold outside.
Back in the ship again. The rumor goes around that we are bound for Madagascar, and we are now in the south Atlantic - My friend has not shown up yet, and I am worried. It seems I am only an "observer" on the expedition, but I am elated over the prospects of the adventure (we are about to "occupy" the Island for the United Nations).
I awoke here, then fell asleep and dreamt I told the dream to my family, going over it in full.
Charles E. Burchfield, March 13, 1942