"Can you walk to the town?" Barbara asked. "Perhaps we can find out who you are if we know where you are."
"Yeah. I'm going down the hill now."
A low rumble from behind me had me clutching the cushions of the couch. "Hey, watch where you're - oh my god. Oh my god! OMIGOD!"
"What? What's happened?" Barbara asked, sounding suddenly worried.
She should.
"A woman with an oxcart just ran me over."
"What?" Patsy shrieked.
"She ran me over. Her oxen were running amok or something. They just came barreling down the hill behind me and ran right over the top of me. Holy Swiss on rye! Now the oxen are trampling me, and the lady in the cart is screaming and - Jehoshaphat! My head just came off! It just came right off! Ack!"
I knew in my dream state that Terri sat staring at me, her eyes huge, a handful of popcorn frozen just beyond her mouth as she gawked at the words that came unbidden from my mouth.
If only she knew.
"Oh, my. I don't - I've never had anyone die during a regression," Barbara said, sounding stressed. "I'm not quite sure how to proceed."
"You're . . . decapitated? " Patsy asked. "Are you sure? "
"I'm sure, Pats. My head's separated from my body, which is covered in ox hoofprints. A wheel went over my neck, I think. It . . . urgh. That's just really gross. Why the hell do I get the reincarnations where I'm killed by two bulls and a cart? Why can't I be Cleopatra's concubine?"
"Personal maid, not concubine," Terri corrected, stuffing the popcorn into her mouth and chewing frantically. "Are you absolutely certain you're dead? Maybe it looks worse than it is."
Oh, it's going to get much, much worse, the dream part of my mind said.
Goose bumps rose on my arms.
"My head is three feet away from my body. I think that's a pretty good indicator of death - good god! Now what's she doing?"
"The ox?" Patsy asked.
"No, the driver. She's not doing what I think she's doing, is she?"
"I don't know," Terri said, setting down the popcorn so she could scoot over closer to me.
"This is very unusual," Barbara muttered to herself.
"What's the lady doing? " Patsy said, prodding my knee.
"She's trying to stick my head back onto my body. Lady, that's not going to do any good. No, you can't tie it on, either. Ha. Told you so. Oh, don't drop me in the mud! Sheesh! Like I wasn't muddy enough? What a butterfingers. Now she's chasing the oxen, who just bolted for a field. Oh, no, she's coming back. Her arms are waving around like she's yelling, only I can't hear anything. It must be the shock of having my head severed by a cart wheel."
"This is just too surreal," Terri said. "Do you think she purposely ran you down?"
"I don't think so. She seems kind of goofy. She just tripped over my leg and fell onto my head. Oh man! I think she broke my nose! God almighty, this is like some horrible Marx Brothers meets Leatherface sort of movie. Holy runaway oxen, Batman!"
"What?" Terri and Patsy asked at the same time.
"She's doing something. Something weird."
"Oh my god - is she making love to your lifeless corpse?" Terri asked. "I saw a show on HBO about that!"
"No, she's not molesting me. She's standing above me waving her hands around and chanting or something. What the - she's like - hoo!"
He was coming. He was just out of my sight, just beyond the curve of the hill.