Night of 26th December 2009

It's like a caper gone sour. I'm on the run, and each successive character I run into gets sucked into, and criminalized by, my ever spiraling crimes. The cumulative weight, perhaps light and laughable before, is now heavy and deadly serious - weighing over the entire episode.
The first few chapters I can not recall. My memory begins as I'm on the run for New Orleans - or some such watery, southern state. There my path crosses, I meet with, Arnold Schwarzenegger; I manage to get in with him through the mutual acquaintance of an actress - she was involved in the previous chapter of the caper.
Although she is now dead. I break the news to Schwarzenegger, and I'm surprised by how upset he becomes. I knew actors put it on for the camera, for PR, for appearances, and suspected his emotion was a sham; but seeing how Schwarzenegger reacts to the news takes me aback a little. He is crying, inconsolable, then quiet, injured, scornful. He says he knew her well, and she was a good person - they'd worked together. He is genuine.
Schwarzenegger gets out of the cobalt blue sedan car we were in. I have no idea what he is up to - he is unresponsive, and has a glazed look of some deranged determination. He doesn't wear a jacket, and seems to be wearing a gun strap over his shirt - he must be a cop, or playing a cop. Past his attire, I look at where we are. We're on a raised carriageway; it's not a bridge, but there is water all around. There are rectangular pools of water, levees, either side of the road in a "steppe" like arrangement. In the dream I call them levees, but I have never seen a levee and do not really know what one is. Their image in the dream, in one view, is similar to rice paddies (but without the blades of rice leaves pointing up though, or the lumpy earthen borders). Rice paddies in the golden tangerine morning sun - like something you'd imagine of Sumatra, Bali, etc. As Schwarzenegger jumps over the barrier and into the water though, the arrangement still looks like levees, or a series of locks - three, on descending levels. And the levels aren't, now, themselves broken into numerous smaller pools, it's like three strips of water, three rivers, side by side, in descending order. Or they are like the "View Pool" some hotels have outside, overlooking a bay or scenic view - three levels of view pools, each spilling water down into the other when disturbed.
The water is very calm and still on each level. It looks thick, viscous almost.
Schwarzenegger, in his grief, has plunged in. And is negotiating his way down the levels. This seems a scandalous thing - either because he is a star and may be poached in this state of un-control, and/or because going in the levees is taboo in this town - and I am scrambling to think what to do.
I'm running alongside the water, on the road, and the area seems more urban and populace. I decide that I need a telephone, to make a call, to make this thing right. Schwarzenegger is in the water, mad, making his way down - I think people are starting to notice and point. I have to save this situation and somehow have found a phone. It is a cordless, not a mobile, more like a house phone (from the late 80s or the 90s). I think it is black and gold. I'm relieved to have got the phone, but as I make a call - I'm informed, by recorded message, that there is no credit on the phone and it will not connect to any line. I try again. No service until bills are paid.

I'm in a disused house, a rundown house, like a squat. There is a mentally retarded character and the Bosses have told me, or I've offered to, teach him how to serve some refreshment (alcohol, perhaps beer) from the refrigerator to the others - who are there for some kind of gambling, or other illegal thing. Everything is very cheap, dirty, dark.
The room is rectangular, not especially wide, and I'm walking length ways down to the other end of the room with the simpleton. I'm showing him the way to the fridge. I take great care, and try to set the best example of hospitality I can so he can copy and do a good job. We successfully serve some drinks to the other squatters/gamblers/people. The bosses, who seem to be middle aged blacks are happy; but at this juncture, the house has been found out, and the Police are on their way. I must run again.

I meet up with Nana. We are on the run together, somehow in the middle of all this I have accessed the internet and find out a horrible secret about Nana's past - that she starred in some adult films, was a very promiscuous Japanese porno starlet. I see images of her taking ejaculations on the face, and of her being penetrated by a man with a penis almost the same length as his upper body. He penetrates her all the way with his huge cock.
She is found out and we have to confront her past (I experience a very complex set of emotions, positive and negative, that I can not express in writing here, and do not think I can really understand yet, but the effect is very profound - even with me now as I write). I can not fathom how she handled this man with the large penis; and it makes me feel very inadequate in comparison. But that we will stay together is never in question for me.
I think we have sex.

The game is up. I'm in Italy, perhaps Roma, but I think somewhere more northern, and the police have finally tracked me down. They have also found all the previous characters I'd met, and I see them taking them and getting more and more evidence about me and what I've done. I see a procession of Japanese mothers walking their children on a very bright sunny mountain pass (the mountainous pass seems like it's in Greece for some reason) and the police have singled out one mother, who at this instant, I recall as someone I either colluded with or perpetrated a crime, unwittingly, against. She tells all.
I'm trying to escape in a small car, and the Italian police are hot in pursuit. The chase passes stone houses, castles, and autumn woods (not many, or no, leaves on the trees); trying to shake off the cops I veer off the road and suddenly see the action from plan, or birds eye view. I've landed my car on a huge conical tile roof - brown or grey - the roof is many orders of magnitude larger than my car, and so the car looks like a toy in comparison. I spiral around and down the tiled roof, almost out of control. The police are on me. I wake.