I’ve had two nightmares since Seamus was born that have stayed with me. The first is one where I take him to the beach and lose him in the waves. Since this almost happened last Thanksgiving and I had the dream soon afterward, it doesn’t bother me. The imagery is awful, don’t get me wrong, but I understand the origins of the dream and that defangs it. I can’t say the same for the other one.
In the other dream, Seamus is abducted by strangers while we’re frequenting some sort of open-air store (farm stand?) on the side of a road across from a huge wooded area. They are a young, scruffy blondish couple, the guy rides a long skateboard, they have a large dog on a lead that carries hints of rottweiler. They grab Seamus as he walks not four feet ahead of me, run to their battered white pickup, and take off, while I chase. Sometimes I chase them all the way into a town, like this morning, before they lose me and I wake up breathless.
The chase differs a little. Everything else is the same. The height of the trees across the road, the gold color of the light that tells me it’s early morning or afternoon. The store, with it’s small cinder block front leading to a tented area (seasonal, I guess). The truck, an old white two-seater, heavily dinged with edges of rust where the paint has scraped or worn away from the dents. The 20-something surf punks, whose faces I never see well.
Four times now I’ve had this dream. The same damn dream. The same details and setting. The same stealing of my child. I can’t pin it to any waking event, and it drives me crazy.