Dream Two: Cars. Michael Keaton

Michael Keaton. We're sitting in the little cozy room next to his little kitchen. We are across from one another but almost next to one another. Our knees almost touch. He is in love with me but he doesn't want me to know. He thinks I won't love him back and his worry is all over his face. He plays it off by being funny and silly. He is nonchalant and flippant but pleasant to be around. I do not know how I feel about him, other than liking him.
I notice that his clothes are smudged in dirt around his collar, on his sleeves, and other places. They weren't noticeable to me at first but now I wonder how I could not have seen. Something must be wrong. He sees me looking and tells me some story about how the dirt got there. He's lying and I know it. And he knows I know it. The evening becomes awkward because I don't like being lied to and I can't fake not being angry. He is anxious and is no longer silly. We sit there in the little room for a while in silence.
Finally he says in a low, soft voice, "I am a fireman."
Something in my heart rolls over with a soft thud. I see that he is not covered in dirt but in ash, and I know he has been saving lives and lying to protect me.
I fall in love with him in that second. He can see that I love him but he can't believe it. Still, he leans close to me and says "We're so past this" and kisses me. It is neither the best nor worst kiss. I'm still in shock to find that he's a fireman. I think he mistakes my shock for disinterest because he leans back and looks bemused and resigned to my maybe not loving him after all.
He writes something down on a small square of paper and says I can call him if I like.
At home everyone is in a frenzy for some reason. Everyone is yelling and fighting. We spill out onto the front porch and suddenly everyone stops fighting and everyone is smiling at me. They all look at the curb where some cars are parked and look at me. I get it - one of those cars is mine! I say, "You didn't have to do this," and my mother tells me it's to make up for one thing or another. I see a little dull, red car with yellow writing on its side. I think this is the one meant for me. But someone else gets into it. So I look back at my family and ask which one and they point to the biggest car ever made. It is pale metallic winter green, but sometimes it is darker. It looks like a station wagon and a hatch-back combined, and it seats eleven people besides the driver.
Suddenly a skateboarder zooms in and graffitis on the lower right hand corner of the back bumper. I can't read what it says. I chase this boy on my in-line skates but he is much faster. I chase him down the street and when he goes into the hospital parking lot I give up. My family looks sullen - they wanted me to beat him down. "It's alright," I tell them. "He'll be back. I'll be waiting for him." We get in the car and we get out but we don't go anywhere.
The room is dark. The bathroom is pitch dark. There are three lamps in there, each with many light bulbs. I try them all and none of them work. I notice the side of a cardboard box has been cut out in the shape of a toilet seat and laid on top of the actual toilet seat. I don't want to sit on the cardboard so I peel it of. It comes off like old duct tape in the heat. Beneath is inches of inky black sticky filth. There is a smell. I try to put the cardboard back but it won't fit.
I discover that I am missing Michael. I become distraught. How can I find him? How can I find him? I walk shaking my head and clenching my fists. Then I remember the paper he gave me when I saw him last. The relief is indescribable. It shifts me to another place, one not so dark and dirty. I reach into my breast pocket and pull out the paper. I see it is his phone-number. I am so happy! There are two rings on the paper made of sticky cake. Sticky and wet and mossy. They look like coffee rings left on a napkin only they are made of this cake. I put the paper to my mouth and suck on the cake. It couldn't be better. I decide I will take my new car on the road and go to his house - the address is under the cake. It takes a long time for everyone to get in my new huge car. I wait patiently.
Sucking on cake rings.