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The Fuel

In dreams

The River Gorge rushed wild with high waters flowing over to my raft as I paddled to the capsized friend. He reached for my hand and I pushed his shoulders into the water as he bounced towards me and I pulled him inside. Two foster children in the water lost their guides far from the creek they were to stay in. One child held on to a rock and slipped his grip and his body floated into the wild waters downstream. I paddled and yelled, "swim downstream and just let the waters float you to the edge, just swim. I'll catch you there." The boy swimmer couldn't go far and I was worried for his drowning because his life jacket could only do so much.


A little girl, not much from five, with a life jacket wailed down the current, and my friend I rescued earlier told me, "I can swim to her!" The sound of the water masked his voice, and I heard, "I can reach her," and so I gave him my oar that I kept back from the cabin before the trip and told him, "Strech this out to her when we get close," and I kept paddling and rushed down digging my paddle deep and sweeping the waters behind me to move upstream. Rafting against the current was dangerous because the waves goes under the raft and pushed it up with more chances to capsize, but the little girl deserved her second chance in life. The sound of her cries cracked the silenced years in my ears, from the loss of prospects for children and the loss of finding true love. Her cries was my saving grace.


It took all of my stamina to paddle upstream to her to push against the surfing currents as she held on to a large branch over her head with both hands stretched with her body being pulled away from the wild rivers. My friend, let's call him Joe, stretched the oar and put it in between her arms just over her head and she grabbed it. Joe pulled her close and I kept surfing against the stream.


"What's your name?" I asked her, as she held on to the oar and Joe pulled her inside our raft. "Kayla," she said, in tears of tremors. She shivered from the cold waters, but the orange sun from the wild fires nearby was high above us and we all knew she would dry off. "Hang on tight in the raft, we have another friend downstream." We paddled around and surfaced the raft swiftly downstream following the rushing current. 


The boy was still in his life jacket and he swam three miles down the stream, but he was safely near the edge of the river, in betwen two rocks. He must have held on the rocks and stayed there for safety because the current won't move it and its solid surface was not covered with moss. The boy didn't cry, instead he smiled at me and my friend, Joe, and told us, "I know how to swim," and we curved the rock to pick him up. He hugged Kayla and Joe, and I rafted down to the cabin station downstream to the right of the fork of the Gorge. 


Paddling the raft felt like carrying a newborn puppy. It felt fresh in my soul, but with a softness of comfort and love in my bones, with the backdrop of the wilderness. If only I rafted everyday of my life, this dream in my sleep would mostly be more wild. When we arrived at the cabin, my body was soaked and my yoga pants and five-fingers slip-ons were sopping wet. Joe was happy and carried Kayla as she stopped crying and asked for some hot chocolate. The boy came to me, and hugged my flat stomach, "Hunter," he said, "my name is Hunter." And I cried to pieces, as the yearnings for children and a loving husband finally came to an end. 


The cabin was opened and the Duke of Cambridge was there, in a batik sarong, and a Balinese wrap hat on his head. He had a Sumatran sash and shirt over him and wrapped in his waist was a leather belt and shoulder stap with a Batik handle and artilleries. He came to me, and told me, "I've watched you grow. You've done good, even with the mistakes you've made." His voice of acceptance held me together as I felt a peace over me, from the tip of my hairs to the tip of my toes. He told me that I've overcame many afflictions and I was sovereign. "Fear no more," he told me.


I woke up this morning, and felt at ease. Even in dreams, I was loved.


Just write.

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