My uncle and I were traveling along in a pickup truck to his parent's (deceased) house. As we rode along we didn't talk about why or where we were going. (If we said anything I don't recall it.) At a point near some train tracks we saw a group of boys tossing what appeared to be model railroad cars. Some of the cars seemed quite old. I don't remember who, but one of us rushed over and recovered one of the cars. I looked like one of my son's current toy train cars, a green one, I think. We were then arriving at the location we had intended and exited the truck.
As we went inside, I did not recognize it as my uncle's parent's house, but it felt familiar to me. There were two people in the house, an older woman and a man who I felt like was a Native American elder or perhaps even a shaman or medicine man. I don't recall if anyone said anything while we were there. I was suddenly approached by a fox kit and it spoke to me. "You get more benefit out than the effort you put in," is all it said to me. I picked up the fox, or followed it (not certain) and was suddenly in a toy store. There was an open package that was from Disney's "Fox and the Hound" movie of the two lead characters as stuffed toys. The fox was a perfect fit although it didn't seem to necessarily want to go back in the box. I found the hound as well. I worked at getting the two animals back into the box, I believe they complained a bit about the cramped working conditions but didn't resist going back into the box. I carried the box back to the house area (the kitchen I think) and the old woman said, "let's put that down as the goal for the week." I countered in a exasperated tone, "more like the goal for the years."
Storyteller—Pamela Colman Smith - Photograph by Alice Boughton from the Brooklyn Life magazine, January, 1907. Thanks to the Brooklyn Public Library for a better resolution photograph than ...
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