old dream

I'm in a large colonial city in south america. Rio or Sao Paulo. I'm standing in front of an old hotel. I go in and make my way to the top. There is a secret room, an attic. Inside there is a young Johnny Cash. He asks me if i want to learn his secret song. I do. Suddenly i am playing the song alone to a small congregation. i take up a small cold statue of the virgin mary. she begins to shed tears of blood which i use to perform the eucharist for all those in attendance. some time later
I'm leaving the hotel. Following me are secret agents from the Pope. They are wearing white suits and matching white panama hats. i elude them and disappear into the crowd.
Im having a beer in a restaurant. I am talking with a girl i knew a long time ago. I see the cops enter with a few of these white-suited papal agents behind them. I grab the girls hand and lead her out a side door. I ask her if she has a car. she does. i ask her where she's parked. Her car is parked at the bottom of a hill. When we get to the bottom i catch a flash of light from the top of the hill, sun on a sniper scope.
They mean to kill me; the thought hits home.
I yell at them to shoot, do their best. They do. As the bullet approaches i attain an almost mystical awareness of its trajectory. The bullet seems to slow as i pivot out of the way and slaps harmlessly into the dashboard. What was that, the girl asks. Nothing, i say. Drive. Just drive.