Kane Kaiman is a graduate of Cedarburg High School. There, he scored a 5 on his AP Psychology test, giving him the authority to interpret the dreams of all humans and some of the earth’s more intelligent mammals. He lives with his wife, Dalton Brown, and his son, Mick Grundtner, in Madison, Wis.
This week’s dream:
“I have a recurring dream where I’m running through the streets chasing after someone. It’s late at night, but I can see everything. Each time, it’s a little bit different. The person is not always the same; I know because they’re wearing different clothes. It feels really good to run after them, because I feel like I have super powers. I’m really fast and strong. And it’s like I know they can’t get away because I can smell them. They reek! It’s weird. I have a lot of weird emotions, too. I’m trying so hard to catch them, but the chase is fun at the same time. Really exciting. Right at the end, I’m so close to catching up, but before I can actually do whatever it is I want to do, like tackle them or something, I wake up.”
—Clayton Stahl, sophomore
One hundred percent accurate interpretation:
Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. But, the chase can’t possibly be as thrilling as the climax: tearing your human prey limb from limb.
Your kind has always made me sick. But, I guess I owe you a shred of gratitude; you’re the reason I got into dream interpretation in the first place.
As a boy, I worked on a dairy farm. I’d make my way out to pasture to milk the cows before the sun came up. One day, I grabbed my pail and trekked out into the moonlit meadow. I still have nightmares about what I found out there in the tall grass.
Mr. Thorison, the farmer, was pretty upset. It looked like his herd had been put through the wood chipper.
I didn’t tell him about the yellow eyes or the blood-soaked fur glistening under the full moon. Who would’ve believed a 12-year-old kid?
I grew up quickly after that. I studied my way out of Podunk, USA, and went off to the university. But, those cows were always at the back of my mind.
Something had to be done. What I needed was the perfect cover, a high-profile career that would allow me to travel the world.
Well, I’ve made quite a name for myself writing books, exploring space, things like that. The fame and fortune has given me the freedom to roam from city to city. I set up shop, write my interpretations for the local paper and patiently wait for the full moon.
I’ve seen your work around town. The authorities do a decent job of covering everything up, but blood has a tendency to leave some tough, set-in stains. You must be a pretty big guy, judging from the footprints. I’m guessing around six and a half feet tall before you “turn.”
It doesn’t matter. I’m going to hunt you down like all the rest.
At the crack of dawn, when you’re regaining your humanity in some blood-spattered back alley, know that I’m admiring the polished skulls in my study. They are my trophies; I line them up next to my collection of silver bullets.
And, like you, I get a kick out of the chase. There’s nothing quite like stalking a creature that embodies the brute strength of a wolf and the cunning of man. It’s an adrenaline rush to say the least.
This time, the game will be a little different. I know your name. You know mine. The element of surprise is lost. But maybe it’s more fun this way.
Don’t worry. I hunt wolves, not men. So, when the full moon comes around again, I suggest you chain yourself up, or else we’re going to have to find out once and for all who’s the better killing machine.
Do you have a dream you want Kane to interpret for you or someone you know? Send him an email at kaiman@wisc.edu for his absolutely 100 percent factually accurate advice.
