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trip—so he no longer thought it was a dream, either. It seemed he was beginning the have the same kinds of doubts Brandon was, in his own way.
    “You set your drink down and weren’t watching it?” Brandon asked.
    “No man, I learned not to do that. I finished my drink. I was heading to the trees to take a wiz—”
    Derek jumped up and dropped his coffee cup. It hit the floor, but didn’t break. A look of horror and distrust fell over his face. He pointed his finger at Brandon.
    “You’re freaking me out, man!”
    Brandon’s own fears suddenly surfaced, prodded into acceleration by Derek’s emotional outburst. He set his cup down on the table and stood up as well.
    “Well I don’t think we’re dreaming, and I don’t think we’re on a drug trip, either!” Brandon shouted back. “I’m just trying to figure out where the hell I am, and what I’m doing here with a hippie from the ‘60’s!”
    The two stood staring at each other, both poised to start running, at or away from each other, which way Brandon couldn’t tell. That’s when the overhead audio system began to play. It wasn’t a Jimi Hendrix song. It was a man’s voice—a calm one, thankfully.
    “The two doors you see on the wall lead to hyena rooms,” the voice said.  “Please use them at your convenience.”
    Brandon and Derek looked around the room in a panicked reaction. The only change was the image on the video screen. It now showed a picture of the two doors that were against the side wall. An outline-figure of a man appeared on the screen and walked up to one of the doors, and it opened in front of him. The figure walked in the door and it closed behind him. This scene then repeated itself several times on the screen.
    The voice spoke again. “The doors to the hyena rooms open automatically when you approach them.”
    “Stay away from those doors!” Derek said.
    Brandon looked at the doors, and then looked back at Derek. “Why? If this is a dream or an LSD hallucination, you can’t really get hurt, right?”
    “Don’t turn this into a bad trip, man! Please! A friend of mine almost lost his arm, after gouging it with a tree branch over and over during a bad trip. Brando, please. Don’t let those hyenas out!”
    “Brandon,” Brandon said, “not Brando. And I don’t want to go into a hyena room any more than you do, believe me. Let’s just calm down. All right? Peace, brother?”
    Derek hesitated, but then made the peace sign with one of his hands. Brandon returned the gesture, and they both sat back down. Brandon leaned over to pick Derek’s cup up off the floor, and refilled it for him. He handed it to him as an olive branch offering. Derek accepted it.
    “Now don’t freak out,” Brandon said, “But I think we might be dead.”
    Derek looked at him like he was nuts for a second, but then started laughing uncontrollably.
    “That’s the funniest thing I ever heard, brother! You’re a comedy genius! Oh, man! Don’t freak out but you’re dead!”
    Brandon thought about what he just said and began laughing as well. It was good that the mood had been lightened some.
    “Well,” Brandon continued, “it’s not so bad, right? They have good coffee here, wherever we are.”
    Derek stopped laughing and said, “All right, Brandon , you tell me the last thing you remember, before the white room.”
    Fair play. Brandon tried to focus. He decided to just start talking as he was thinking.
    “A party. I think. Yeah. A party. Your sister—I mean, my wife, is…was…drinking and flirting with other men. I got upset. I think I left her there at the party.”
    “You left the party?”
    “No. Yes. No. Wait.” The troublesome feelings surfaced again, and new scenes began flashing in Brandon’s mind.
    “I was outside. I left her inside. I was walking. Yes, it was night. Walking. Smoking, I think.”
    “Pot?”
    Brandon shot Derek a disgusted look. “No. A cigar, I think. Yeah. A good one. Yeah, I was really pissed off. The