A/N: Yes, this really happened. My son has vivid dreams, but when he told me these, the computer just happened to be handy and I happened to be in a writing mood. So I guess this will be my first 'original fic' even though besides the fact that I'm writing about his dreams, this really happened. Also, my son says that if you haven't got the patience to read the entire story, skip down to the third dream, since that's the one that stands out most vividly to him and is the most interesting. Thanks for reading, but please, no offers for psychological help!

MY SON'S STRANGE DREAMS

I was sitting in my bedroom, reading some poems on , and thinking I should be working on my 'original fic' when my older son (not dave but kit) came into my room (it happens to be the only decently cool room in the house since we don't have air conditioning) and started telling me about his dreams.

"For the last three days I had these weird animal dreams!" he said.

My first thought was that he shouldn't fall asleep watching 'Animal Planet'. Especially if Steve Irwin or Jeff Corwin is on. The first dream seemed pretty standard. It was three or four days ago, was about a pack of grizzly bears attacking him and his friends while they were camping in a log cabin. A two-storey log cabin, at that. This was where it diverged from the standard, animal-mauling nightmare. One of his friends fell out of the window and the bears began to maul him. Meanwhile there were bears on the roof, though how they got up there is beyond me. They were smashing in the windows, trying to get at my son and the remainder of his friends. My son said he wanted to run, but his dog was hiding under the bed, cowering. This falls firmly in the realms of fantasy because his dog, a crotchety old terrier mix with only three teeth who definitely lives up to the term 'female dog' would have been yapping her head off, enflaming the enraged bears even more.

Anyway, as the dream progressed, the bears sort of melted into different characters, as sometimes happens in dreams. They suddenly became Nazi soldiers, complete with swastikas. I really didn't have any thoughts on this since he doesn't watch the History Channel very often and never watches the old WWII movies. But the soldiers were actually more like toy soldiers, he said. They kicked in the door and started to march in, but once one was in the door, he would just stand there, despite holding automatic weapons on my son. My son would have to shoot him to avoid being shot himself, and when the soldier fell, another would calmly walk up and take his place.

This seemed to be where the dream ended, but I was already shaking my head. My bank account won't allow for psychological counseling. My son wouldn't take pity, however. He began to tell me about the second dream.

This one also seemed pretty standard. He and his friends were out in 'the wilderness' as he put it, camping. You'd think we camped a lot, but in all honesty, we've only done so about five times. Anyway, he and his friends were out camping 'in the wilderness' and they were attacked by a pack of wolves. (remember that there are no confirmed reports of wolves attacking humans in the United States, despite their fierce reputation) The wolves attacked and the young men ran. Probably the smart thing to do, too, since they only had BB guns to defend themselves with. The guys would run until a wolf caught up, then turn and try to shoot it. Then they would run again. I'm not really certain whether everyone ended up in a wolf's belly or whether they were able to save themselves, because my son was anxious to tell me about the strangest of the three dreams.

I almost went for the aspirin. It gets worse, I wondered? Well, the next dream was about alligators (and, thank YOU very much, Steve Irwin!)

Anyway, the alligators. My son and his friends (he has lots of friends, which is good since they all get attacked by animals) were partying on the beach. Keep in mind here that we live in Colorado. They were frolicking in the waves with dozens of other faceless characters. Then suddenly (these are his words now) the sky darkened to the shade of a sunset and all of the faceless hoards weren't there anymore. They didn't disappear, it was more like they had never been there at all. Anyway, my son and his two friends were still the water, about forty feet from the shore, when one of his friends was dragged under, never to be seen again. At this point my son and his final remaining friend saw two alligators swimming by the remains of the dear departed's floatation device. (we're back to my words now) As if on cue, an unmanned motorboat pulled up beside them, saving them from the inevitable 'gator attack. They clambered aboard in a rush of panic and then the boat carried them back to shore. They were calm now that they were out of the water, save for one thing. As they moved to the small playground that seemed to have just appeared, they dreaded only one thing. ME! It seems that they had borrowed some cheap, Walmart rafts from me, with the injunction to bring them back safely, or else. They sat on the swings, looking at the raft bobbing in the waves.

Suddenly a figure emerged from the shallows. They thought it was another alligator at first, because of the ridges on its back and the green color of the skin. Then it rose onto its hind legs and they saw that it was humanoid in shape. It was an alligator-boy (my son's word, not mine). He appeared to be between eighteen and twenty years old. This frightful apparition opened its mouth and said, "Hi!"

My son, being a friendly sort, started talking to him. He said the alligator-boy looked just like a normal kid except for the ridges and the green skin, but he looked terribly lonely. Like the slow kid in school. Despite being big, he looked like the one everyone picked on. My son has the softest heart in the family, so it isn't a big stretch to imaging him befriending this odd creature. He said he made small talk with the alligator-boy, while his friend swung on the swing and contributed occasionally to the conversation. They talked for about an hour, but the alligator-boy said my son was the only person who hadn't run away screaming when he showed himself. He told my son how lonely he was and that he appreciated him talking to him.

It was about this time that my son remembered the raft.

He said that he suddenly yelled, 'Oh, yeah! The raft!'

His new friend asked what was wrong and my son explained what had happened. Then he asked him, almost shyly, "Do you, er, think you could, uh, get the raft for me? I mean, seeing how you're part alligator and all?"

My son's other friend, the uneaten one, suddenly piped in. "Well, won't they still attack you?" he asked the alligator-boy, concerned. "I mean, since you still look human?"

The A-B told them to, "watch this!"

He proceeded to a small mud-hole about twenty yards away. There were alligators resting there. Very large alligators. A-B walked to the center of the ring of alligators and made a challenging call toward all the other alligators. The larger animals suddenly rose to their hind legs. They made the same call right back, and bared their teeth in challenge, but A-B acted as though they were merely kittens mewling. He ignored them and waited for the largest of the 'gators to challenge him. When the largest one rose on its hind legs and roared, the others dropped down into a submissive position, cowed. But A-B calmly strode up to him, disregarding the gaping mouth and razor-sharp teeth (Crikey, now I sound like Steve Irwin!). He stopped centimeters from the open maw and caught the brute's eye. My son said that even in the dream he felt his own heart racing with concern. He was sure the 'gator was going to accept the challenge and bite A-B's face off. A-B wasn't concerned, though. He gave it a look that clearly said, "I dare you!" to the beast. Hesitant at first, unwilling to be bested, but clearly intimidated, the huge 'gator finally dropped to all fours and assumed the submissive crouch of its fellows.

A-B walked back to us and grinned.

"See," he said, "they won't bother me."

The human boys were thrilled. But when they looked for the raft, it was gone! There was another boat out there, though, with two rafts tied to it. The people on the boat must have been below in the cabin. As they studied the boat, A-B spoke up.

"I can get you one of those," he offered.

My son blithely disregarded current property laws in our state and happily accepted. Both he and his friend were apparently more afraid of my temper than the police. A-B smiled and jumped back into the water. It took him seconds to get to the boat and untie a raft. As he was coming back, though, sharks began to circle A-B.

There was, my son said, much churning of water, splashing and thrashing. The boys on the beach were again frightened for their new acquaintance's welfare, but even more worried that the stupid sharks were going to ruin the raft! Their worries were groundless since A-B surfaced, pulling the raft, only moments later.

They made the appropriate amazed noises when A-B walked out of the water, unharmed, dragging the raft behind. He told them not to worry. "They were JUST sharks," he said with a smile. "They mess with me all the time!"

They thanked him, much relieved. Apparently, since the parental rage had been circumvented, my son felt secure enough to wake up at that point.

My son looked at me earnestly. I didn't know what to say. I was on the verge of laughter, but I didn't know what his reaction would be. Then I got a strange idea. I would write this down, because it made a heck of a story. With his permission, and his assistance, I did just that.

He asked me to post it tonight, but I might wait. He went to bed about thirty minutes ago. When I went in to turn off his TV, Jeff Corwin was shouting about the unusual tree frog that had just hopped onto his head. I left the TV on. I wonder if Kit will have any strange dreams tonight?