Dream of: 17 January 2006 "Dead Judge"

My father and I were in a classroom at a school which resembled Grant Junior High School. A sporting contest had taken place between two fellows at the school, and the outcome of the contest had become embroiled in controversy. One contestant had been Mike Spencer (a boorish bully who had once been my schoolmate at Grant), and Spencer had won the contest. Since the outcome was now disputed, however, Rick Dupuy (whom I first met in 1975 when we were in the 10th grade together and who had been by far the most intelligent student in my high school), had been appointed judge to determine the outcome of the contest. Dupuy (who did not look as I had remembered him) was brought in and he quickly declared that the other fellow, not Spencer, was the winner. A group of people gathered around Dupuy and began arguing against Dupuy's decision, but Dupuy wouldn't change his mind. 

My father and I walked out of the classroom and out of the school. As we continued walking along, it started to rain, and I commented, "That's all we need."

It was starting to get cold and I was only wearing a short-sleeve shirt, but I was carrying a long black coat, which I unfolded and held over my head. My father said something about "not getting too hot," and I told him I wasn't getting hot. I asked if he were getting hot. From the way he was talking, I thought that he might be sick and that he might have a fever. But I certainly wasn't too hot.

We started talking about what we had just witnessed at the school and about Dupuy's decision. My father (referring to Spencer) said, "No, he just went wild. This Dupuy fellow tired to put him in his place."

Obviously my father agreed with Dupuy's decision. But I was a bit troubled by something: Wasn't Rick Dupuy dead? If Dupuy was dead, how had he appeared like that?  

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