While I was visiting family, they offered to take me for a ride in the country. V. took the wheel of the Jeep, which she never does. We drove across the hills in a way that struck me as improbable. At one point the grass turned into a dirt road around a bend, but V. stayed on the corner grass, giving us a bump.
Fighter jets flew in formation overhead. A few would have seemed strange, but there were enough to indicate something big was happening here. “In Pennsylvania”? I thought in disbelief.
We came to a cliff overlooking an artificially rectangular lake that was an unhealthy green. We could see an enormous helicopter and a smaller plane submerged, but I was told they had been there for years. By now some of the fighter jets were flying full speed into the water, transforming into dark-green submersibles just before impact.
As we looked down the strangely sheer walls into the lake, we spotted what we thought were bodies, but although they looked dead we became aware that they were alive.
To my surprise and shock, CC threw my iPhone into the lake, which appeared to have the effect of killing the bodies that hadn’t been dead but now were. How we could tell this I don’t know. I felt guilty for their deaths, but mostly I wanted my iPhone back. Neither CC nor anyone else seemed inclined to take responsibility, and I felt devastated even as my waking mind wondered whether a saturated iPhone would work.
The lake lurked as the the most disturbing aspect, a chiseled, post-industrial, post-apocalyptic morass, apparently filled with human and mechanical victims — our final destination after an amazing ride among the lovely green hills.