I get together with two men. One of them's an alien--a big-headed quiet guy of reptilian ancestry. We form a scuba team that plans to descend to a famous wreck, a submarine sunk by a depth charge, right below a San Francisco pier near the Bay Bridge. The narrow slip is surrounded by piers and promenades on three sides, but it's so deep and tangled in scrap metal, old beams, and general harbor trash that the wreck's never been reached before.

We reach it. And bring back proof. But Big Head grabs the WRONG piece of evidence--one of the depth charges that sank it, or one of the torpedoes it carried? I don't clearly see it till we break the surface. But sense a faint ticking--the pressure change has wakened it. It could blow any time now. Usually they had fuses of a couple minutes so they'd reach the right depth. I yell at him to let it drop. After an agonizing few moments, he does. It swims back down in the green murk like a steel turtle. We climb out on the pier. They take photos of each other with their loot--proof we reached the sub. I'm still uneasy. They agree to leave after the next shot. I spot a strange little wave, a ring on the water above the wreck sit. Point and yell "We have to leave NOW!" Subtle, certainly no explosion far below--more like a bubble popped. But my long experience with waves says something else has been released. At last, my friends listen, and we run for the door in the corner. Too late! Another bubble, bigger, and a big head emerges from the water. No body, just vapor. The head of a god I recognize... and fear. I've me him before. A nasty one!

Tourists panic on the pier. The god announces "No need to fear; I'm just looking for..." and peers around as we reach the door "... THEM!" and points at us, with an arm of steam, and reaches across to us. If we'd started to flee a few seconds earlier we'd have made it out.

But now we're caught. In the palm of the bad god's hand...

NOTES WHEN I WAKE

• The sub: Uh-oh! Found historic treasure in the subconscious, but the proof I bring back is toxic. I woke up something dormant and deadly. But what? I've been obsessing on art and hiding for two days, when dreams and therapy said go out and date. Am I in hiding from this thing I think is gonna pounce?
• Big-headed scaly friend = sounds like I've come to terms with that alligator I wrestled in last night's dream!
• Delay, photos, the strange god = painted too long this evening. And watched TV, then studied Susan Seddon Boulet's cards depicting goddesses from around the world.
• Seashore demon, uncorked = the old tale of a man who uncorks a bottle on the beach, releasing a murderous genie. He tricks it back in.

NOTE ADDED AFTER THERAPY

Photography lets this god attack! Last week I dreamed of a god who wants me shut up in a house or a small town; the tools to defeat him included bike/car, the phone, and PHOTOGRAPHY. I thought of Peter, an acquaintance who's a fashion photographer... he's rather shy without his camera, but with it he flirts and socializes freely. In the dream, my friends, too, enjoy basking in attention and fame to come... but I fear it.

With, apparently, good reason. I think I'll indulge my stay-at-home feelings a few more days, till whatever it is... pounces.

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