Crossing Over -- a true story (2006)

Last night I had a dream.
I was standing on the right side of a railroad track
Back up against a cement wall
On my left, was a field, filled with smiling adult faces
Green grass picnics and BBQ’s
On my side of the tracks, there were only children
Some tiny and small, brown and scared
Others lively, excited, agitated and unaware or unafraid of the
Impending train that threatened their lives
Maternal instinct caused me to grab as many of the children close to my heart
Some of them looked shell shocked
Like kittens in high water
But there were too many of them, and some of them would not listen
I ordered them with slicing sternness to sit still, against the wall, away from the tracks
Don’t move, I ordered. Don’t move when the train comes.
I knew if they crossed now they would never make it
Most of them obeyed
But there was one defiant boy
Lips pursed, hands folded in obstinate will
Who refused to listen
and stood right in the middle of the tracks
His face-- liquid gold
His eyes--thunder
He stood there refusing to hear my demands
And later my pleas
I knew that if I went after him, he’d run.

And then a question of biblical proportion
Should I leave twenty five vulnerable bodies
And risk them taking flight
To save the lone hold out?


It was a question my dream never answered.
I woke up when the train was two feet from the
Boy
I woke up and didn’t even remember the dream
It was like morning was an extension of where the previous day ended
I got up, showered, brushed my teeth
And put on my clothes, and got into my car
It was only after I crossed the train tracks on my way to work
Did I remember