As I was walking to the store one day, I ran across a rather familiar looking face sitting on a bench at the corner in my dad's trailer park. I figured that for sure I was seeing things. I mean, how could George Washington possibly be sitting on a bench in a trailer park in Baton Rouge? Well, curiosity got the best of me, so I decided to ask. "Um, excuse me, sir," I said, "Aren't you George Washington?"

"Why, yes, young lady," he answered me, "I am. And who might you be?"

I was so shocked, at first, that I couldn't remember. I began stuttering, "I, ah, I'm--wait, I'll remember in a second. Oh! I'm Jessica Dye. What are you doing here? I thought you died a really long time ago."

"That's what all of the history books say, Ms. Dye, but somehow I was sent through the void of time the day before I supposedly 'died,' and I have been living here ever since," Mr. Washington told me. "Is there anything else I could answer for you, Ms. Dye?"

"Well, I would like to ask you a few questions about your life," I said. I added, "By the way, Mr. Washington, I would appreciate it greatly if you would call me Jessica."

"O.K., Jessica," Mr. Washington said, "Ask me anything. I'd be happy to answer your questions. What would you like to know?"

"Well, first of all, I'd like to know why you cut down the cherry tree."

"I didn't cut down the cherry tree, Jessica. That was just an ugly rumor that someone started to make me look bad," he answered me

. "O.K.," I said. Then I asked him a string of questions. "Mr. Washington, how did it feel to have wooden teeth? How did you ever keep them in your mouth? How often did you have them replaced, and how in the world did you ever keep them clean?"

Mr. Washington answered me with a smile, "That's quite a mouthful, Jessica. Let me see. Having wooden teeth felt quite different from having my real teeth, but, since I had no teeth to chew with, I had no choice. They were made of wood because glass was a bit too breakable, and there were no other materials to make them with. To keep them in my mouth, I had to have them screwed into my jaw. They were replaced every four months, and to keep them clean, I wiped them down with a rough rag."

"Wow! Mr. Washington, didn't it hurt to have them screwed into your mouth?" I asked, perplexed as to how such a thing was possible.

"Of course it hurt, Jessica, but let me ask you something," he said. "Would you rather have had no teeth to eat with at all and have a sunken hole where your mouth was, or would you rather have had wooden teeth--with a little pain--to chew with and a regular looking mouth?"

I raised my eyebrows in amusement, "When you put it that way, Mr. Washington, I think I'd rather have a little pain and wooden teeth." Then I asked him, "How did you meet Martha? That is, if you don't mind answering something personal."

"Of course I don't mind," Mr. Washington began, "Martha and I met--" At that time, my alarm clock went off, and I awoke with a start. When I looked back on my bizarre dream, I burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at this early in the morning?" my mother asked me.

"You aren't going to believe the dream I was having," I answered her.

We joined my grandmother in the kitchen, and I began telling them about my dream. When I finished, they shared in my good laugh.