The morning of May 10, last dream before waking
My loved ones and I have taken a vacation to a beautiful tropical island. My parents are there, along with my brother and sister-in-law, Soldier, Lisa, Ade, my aunts and cousins, and several children, including two that are my brother’s, and one little boy I call my son. We are seated in a shaded picnic area on a hill overlooking the emerald blue water. My brother and the kids are downhill, playing in a lagoon with a beach ball. There is a golden beach and then a bay which opens onto beautiful ocean and the bright blue horizon. The water is so clear, we can see fish, dolphins, sharks, and whales.
A pod of killer whales enters the bay. The crowd cheers and begins to walk across the sand to get a better look. My brother takes the kids by the hands and they follow the crowd. Those of us in the picnic area lean over the railing to watch the black and white animals jump, spin, and splash in the bay.
Then, a man in red swim trunks gets perilously close to the edge. A whale leaps up, takes the man in its massive jaws, and dives into the now-churning waters of the bay.
Blood. Screams. People running. I stand up and say, “My son.” My brother runs up the hill with the crying children in tow.
I wake up, heart racing.