The swirling waters and mysterious child in her dream left her a bit unsettled. What could it all possibly mean?
- Posted on Jan 25, 2018
Water. It was everywhere.
I watched in horror from the staircase as the water gushed through the front door. The smell of salt water filled the air, mist hitting me in the face. I stepped off the last step into the ankle-deep flood and gasped. The level was rising. And fast.
I had to get help. I sloshed through the flood to the living room. That’s when I saw him. Sitting in the middle of the room on top of a pillow, without a care in the world. A baby in a white bodysuit. He was about seven months old, chewing on his left hand as if he was teething. His jet-black hair hung over his ears, elf-like. The water swirled around him without ever making contact. As if some invisible force were shielding him. The baby sat there and stared, completely at peace. And somehow I knew. His name, it was Marcos....
I woke up in bed with a start, my heart thumping. I sat up and peeked over the edge of my bed. No sign of water. Thank God! Just a dream. A very real dream. Who in the world was Marcos? And why was I dreaming about him?
I took a deep breath and got ready for the day, trying to push that bizarre vision out of my head. The last thing I needed was more to worry about. My health hadn’t been the best over the past few years. I suffered from chronic pain and was on disability. Stress only compounded my symptoms. The sooner I forgot about that strange dream and the baby, the better.
I heard the coffee machine beep downstairs. That meant my husband, Carl, was up. I headed to the kitchen. I caught myself searching for signs of flooding as I made my way down.
“You okay?” Carl said when I came into the kitchen. “You look like you saw a ghost.”
“I had the most alarming dream,” I told him. “There was a flood in the house and, in the middle of it all, a baby named Marcos.”
Carl raised an eyebrow. “Have some coffee. Maybe that’ll help.”
It didn’t. I just couldn’t get that image of the baby out of my head. In the dream, he’d been fine. But what about the flood? What did it mean? I dialed my aunt Leigh’s number, hoping she’d have some answers for me. She always talks about her dreams and their messages.
“Maybe you connected with someone in Houston,” Aunt Leigh said. Houston? True, Hurricane Harvey had struck Texas days earlier. We’d been watching news reports about it all week. But I didn’t know anyone in Texas, let alone a baby named Marcos. I got off the phone with Aunt Leigh and grabbed my car keys and purse. I needed to get out of the house, clear my head.
“Where are you going?” Carl said.
I said the first place that popped into my head.
“Walmart. I’m going to Walmart.”
Carl looked as if I’d just told him I was joining a traveling circus. I rarely got out of the house these days, what with my health problems. Crowds made me feel worse. I usually avoided Walmart like the plague. But it was exactly the kind of place that could help take my mind off that dream.
“I’m just going to pick up a few things to bake a cake,” I told Carl. “It’ll be fine.”
It was. Walmart wasn’t too crowded so early in the morning. I browsed the baking aisle, scanning the shelves for ingredients. I was comparing two boxes of cake mix when I heard a baby crying the next aisle over. Come on! Not another baby! I turned out of the baking aisle to escape the noise and almost ran right into a twenty-something woman and her mother. There was a baby in a carrier in their shopping cart. The baby had tears in her eyes and jet-black hair that hung over her ears. Just like...
“Oh my goodness!” I said, clutching my own cart for support.
“Are you okay?” the young woman said. “I’m so sorry if my daughter’s crying upset you. She’s teething.”
“It’s not that, it’s...” I said, trying to get the words out and failing. I was shaking, near tears. People around us were staring now. “Your daughter looks like a baby I dreamed about last night.”
The woman and her mother looked at each other, confused, then started speaking in Spanish. Oh, great! Had I freaked them out?
“In my dream, I saw a baby boy in the middle of a flood,” I tried to explain. “But the water couldn’t touch him. His name was Marcos.”
The older woman shrieked. “Marcos?” she said. “Marcos!”
Before I could say another word, both women pulled me into a tight hug. They held on to me, laughing and crying. Even the baby was smiling. What was going on?
When they’d finally calmed down, the younger woman turned to me. “I can’t thank you enough,” she said. “My sister lives in Houston, in a neighborhood where bad flooding occurred. We just got word that she made it to a shelter with her family. Cell phone service has been so spotty, though, and we’ve been so worried about her and the baby. Until now.”
“Wait,” I said. “The baby?”
“Yes,” the woman said, smiling. “My sister has a son the same age as my daughter. His name is Marcos.”
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