We’re at some kind of workshop in a house in the woods. We all have to prepare something, like pretending to have a zombie war. Most if not all of the men strip naked for this. Everyone is laughing and surprised about it, but then everyone ignores it.
I need to find a large sheet of birch paper, because the one I thought was birch paper is probably synthetic. I ask my dad to help me find some birch. We’re both a little irritated. What if we only wind up finding a huge plank? What will we do with it later? At this point in the conversation, I am standing on a ladder fussing with something on the top of a roof of a small wooden house. I hear my neighbor, who is smacking wooden planks fit in slats which then produce a musical sound. Oh! I say. We can use it here on the roof to produce music! Great, says my dad. Let’s do it.
Then I cut away as a disembodied observer of A., who is hurrying down the wooded path. A disembodied authority is taunting her, and she is muttering under her breath back at it. She is going to play the part of a monster in the big whatever tonight.
So then we have to bring drinks and water somewhere, or I ask to have one, or something with small bottles of water in a fridge. B. and I arrange something. We have to hurry before nightfall. On the other hand, maybe it’s not so scary, if we already know the people who are playing the zombies.