performance and teeth

I was at a festival, somewhere on the coast of central New South Wales, sitting with a few people in an outdoor café, late in the afternoon. There were tents and demountable buildings set up to house the events and to accommodate the guests. I understood that people were travelling from up and down the coast to attend the festival. I looked across the roadway and noticed a sign erected outside a big white tent. It announced that I was to be singing with a “string band” that evening. I was excited but also nervous, particularly considering we had not rehearsed. I gathered the musicians together and we had a rehearsal in the tent. Though there was much to learn, I was confident that we would sound great. I woke.

Next, I was in Newcastle at our family home where I spent my teenage years. I was sitting outside the house around a park picnic table with my mother and sister, all in our pyjamas. It was night and as we were talking, we were watching the sky; stars turned from white to burnt orange and then exploded into fountains of sparkling light. We were amazed and in wonder. Again, I was scheduled to perform, but this time I was booked to do an hour of stand-up comedy. I was concerned as I am not a comedian and have no desire to be one. I talked it over with my mother and sister, suggesting that I redefine my performance and sing for an hour rather than try to do something far outside my skill base or comfort zone. My mother agreed but my sister, playing devil’s advocate, thought I should challenge myself and do the comedy routine. I felt that it would be challenging enough to sing and that to attempt comedy would lack integrity, not being what I do.

I suddenly realised that I had a huge wad of hot pink bubblegum in my mouth and needed to spit it out. I ran back into the house and up the stairs to the bathroom, to dispose of it in the bathroom rubbish bin. The bin was overflowing so I began to stuff everything down into the rubbish bag and to clean up the area around the bin. Again, I had a strange sensation in my mouth and I needed to spit out more bubblegum. This time, a few teeth came loose and as I pulled the bubblegum out of my mouth, the teeth came out too. I was horrified as even more teeth became loose and fell out. I looked in the mirror and could see empty bloodied gums on the left side of my face. I ran downstairs, cupping the teeth in my hand, to show my mother. I could see two Indian men that I do not know, one sitting in the loungeroom in my father’s chair, and the other washing up at the kitchen sink. I was fleetingly aware of being in my pyjamas. I showed my mother the teeth which were broken and crumbling in my hand, asking her what I should do. She remained calm, saying that it would be alright. I woke.