A Dream with a Message

All my thoughts and signs of Marcie, as well as a peek at a friend's personal blog, triggered a dream last night. But it seemed like some little bit of Marcie was coming through with a purpose, and not the random synthesis of imagery drawn from our lives.

In the dream, Marcie and I were making out in an airport lounge, sitting in a little round booth with some hors d'œuvre and glasses of wine. A beautiful lilting voice came over the loudspeaker as we kissed.

"Flight Three for Mbingu now boarding at Gate Seven," it crackled, interrupting the music in the lounge, and our kiss.

"Mmmph... mmm," Marcie said, her hand on my jaw as she stopped. "We have to get to the gate or I'll be late."

I nodded and grabbed her bags, admiring her sleek form in her little aqua camisole and long but clingy white skirt. She was wearing white heeled sandals of some kind, and I remember thinking that they showed off her toenails' little flowers very well as we walked.

When we arrived at Gate Three, children were playing and clamoring around a few smiling adults. A young man stood in a white uniform that looked an awful lot like an Army uniform in Navy white, I noted. Everyone was dressed for summer.

"Marcie," a beautiful Indian (or perhaps Pakistani or Bangladeshi woman, I could only guess) said, beaming and taking her hand. "I am so glad you made it. Why don't you take these four and take them with you?"

She gestured to four little girls, one of them a redhead who immediately attached herself to Marcie's leg, the other three African, dressed the same, in little white gowns, one wearing her hair in hanging braids, the other two, smaller girls wearing little cloths wrapped on theirs.

The taller, braided one showed the other girls something in her arms, "It's my baby," she said. "I saw a brilliant glow in her hands and on her forearms, cradled but translucent, the faintest outline of a baby's form visible.

They murmured and the girl slipped her arms under her gown, smiling a moment at me. I smiled at the smallest girl, who looked at me a little confused, and she came over and took my hand, pulling me. I started to go, but the woman took my arm with a warm and gentle but firm grip.

"No, Serena," she said. "Francis is not going on this flight, but you will see him later, okay? Now go with Marcie."

"Sorry, Serena," I said, and before I could ask why I was not going, Marcie spoke.

"I call him Frank, Niyati, " she interjected, smiling at the women. Marcie stepped in close and her face slipped into a little sad smile. "Honey, I have to go now. I'm sorry, but they said you can't get an entry visa yet."

I suddenly realized that Marcie was seriously going without me, and that is why I had no luggage of my own. I began to protest and Marcie kissed me. I felt a strange electric jolt down my back and opened my eyes, my throat hard and pained as understanding dawned and I remembered.

Niyati rubbed my back as I listened to my little bride and the tears flowed.

"We'll have our second honeymoon, honey," she said. "But not right away. I have things to do, and you have things to do, too. I won't leave you alone. I'll call you, okay?"

I could only nod and then kiss back. The four girls hugged around us until Niyati took their hands and put them in Marcie's or on her skirt gently. Marcie pecked my cheek and Niyati took her bag.

"Okay, ladies," she said. "Time to go now. Marcie, I will see him home after everyone is in."

"Bye for now, honey," Marcie said. "Come see me when you can."

"I will," I said, hoarse but determined to sound strong, which I was not nearly.

They walked into the gate and were gone. Niyati rubbed my back and smiled when I turned to her.

"She waited for you in the terminal so you could see her off," Niyati whispered. "She is very stubborn. But it was okay to let you come here for her. You have been very good to her."

"Why can't I go?" I asked.

"It is rare for people even to come here," she said, "You have been here before, and you knew your way back, and you will know your way here when you don't get to go back again."

She sighed and smiled, stroking my cheek and smiling. "You may have been waiting for your gate call once, but this was Marcie's. Your ticket is expired, and your reservation is for a much later flight, so you can't board yet. You also need an entry visa to fly, and yours is not ready yet."

I nodded. "So I don't get to board until I die?" I asked.

"You will not die, no one really does who comes here, but you cannot be responsible for anything when you do come to depart," she said. "If there is something not yet done, you cannot board."

I was calmer but sad. I stared at the gate and sighed heavily, wondering how I would visit if I could not fly yet.

"Stay here a moment," Niyati said. She walked over to the confused soldier, who waved as she guided him into the gate. I waved back and nodded. I envied his luck.

Marcie walked backto the edge of the gate and beckoned to me sneakily. She bit her lip and looked at Niyati, who was greeting a young woman and a couple.

My heart surged. I smiled and ran to the gate on my quiet step, sneaking rapidly and leaping at the end, but a huge wall of a man suddenly stood before me. The gate slid back from me behind him.

He put his hand on my shoulder and Marcie came over as he spoke. "I know you can't help it, and I know you think you want to take my wrist, and you want to slip by, and you want to go, Francis."

I nodded and looked up at him. He may have been seven feet tall or so, but I didn't care. I considered the best course for a moment but my thoughts were scrambled as Marcie kissed me.

"Honey, you are very brave and I know you want to be with me, and I am so happy you ran to me for one last caper," she said. "But just run to me when you see me somewhere else, okay? We'll have our time together."

The man let go of my shoulder. "Thank you, Marcie."

I had one last kiss before the dream ended. As we kissed, i felt her mischievous delight with me and her passion. I woke and felt her hands on my cheeks and her lips on my own, phantoms of her again acting as company to me.


Sometime this weekend, I will share Chrissy's dream of her. I have been trying to digitize the wedding video. We will see. I may also get the archive of messages from Tanya, and I have found more little notes. Good night, friends. If any of you have dreams to share. please let me know.

Extra note: The name I heard was "Natty," but this is as close as I found from theplace I think the woman was from or supposed to be...