There is a section in my children’s book in which the protagonist, Paul Brager, has a disturbing dream that seems to tie in with the weird events happening in his life.
Paul never does understand it until later in the novel when the dream reveals its hopeful message.
The dream starts like this:
The plane was going down and there was nothing they could do about it.
He was just a kid so he was not surprised that he wasn’t feeling heroic. But there were tons of adults on that plane, some of whom were big, football-size guys, their arms thick and meaty, and even they were squealing and rushing around like he was.
The screams were girly and high-pitched and he really wanted to save everyone. You know. Dash into the cockpit and grab the steering mechanism and jerk them up away from the dull blue of the water beneath them. To let everyone know he was in control and, even though he was only twelve, he could still land them safely. He really wanted to grin at all those beefy men and see them look down, ashamed.
But he couldn’t.
Whatever the pilot and co-pilot were doing, it wasn’t stopping the water below from coming up, up, closer, closer, towards them. They could see it through the windows and they knew they were doomed. They knew life was over. But there was another feeling beyond this fear: the helplessness of not being able to do anything to save themselves.
Later, Paul tells his best friend, Chad Tremblay, about the dream. It is an appropriate foreshadowing of events that happen later.
I will be travelling for two weeks and so my next blog will be here around the week of July 21. See you then!