Sophie's Dream Part II
After a long hot shower, I settled into bed. I must have fallen asleep quickly because when I woke up, the sun was streaming through the bedroom window. I shuffled to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee and began thinking about Mrs. Farmer. I picked up the phone and dialed the hospital to check on her condition and to see if Grace needed anything. Maybe I could pick up some lunch for her after I ran a few errands in town.
After a bit, the operator came back on the line and asked, "Which room were you wanting again?"
"Room 227, a Mrs. Farmer," I replied.
"I'm sorry," she said, "that room isn't occupied, and I don't see a Mrs. Farmer listed."
"She has to be! I was just there with her last night; she came in by ambulance after suffering from a fall."
"I'm sorry, she's not here, are you sure you have the right hospital? Maybe she's at County Memorial?"
"No, no, I'm quite sure I'm calling the correct hospital, this is all very puzzling."
I thanked her for her time and put the phone back on the receiver and sat there drinking my coffee, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. None of this fitted together! How could she not be at the hospital when I had just left her side last night? I finished my coffee and decided to lie back down, maybe this whole situation would make sense later.
I fell into a fitful sleep and suddenly found myself sitting in the middle of a barren field, the ground was charred like it had been burnt. The air had an acrid smell, and the clouds were black and angry, as though a storm may be churning. I turned to my left and saw a Navajo woman; she was walking barefoot, her dress torn and dirty. Upon her shoulder, she carried a soiled leather pouch, with everything she owned of value, carefully tucked inside. Behind her a small dark-haired child tagged along with her head down, leaving her mother to lead the way. The expression on the woman's face was that of such sadness and despair, that I felt her sorrow in my soul. She trudged through the field, her steps laden with worry and disappointment. I cautiously followed them to see where their arduous journey would take them. She came to an isolated dirt road; and looked up and down the road, but there was nothing in either direction. She hung her head and slumped down to the ground. The child sat down beside her, a bewildered look on her face, asking the silent question, " Which way do we turn?"
The woman clasped hands with the much smaller ones, and brought them to her lips, kissing the palm of each one. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and she smiled bravely at the child. The woman then stood up and dusted the dirt from her dress, and the child did likewise. She looked to the left, then to the right again, and decided she must choose the right path. The woman and child began to walk down the road, each step more confident than the last. The sun came out from behind the clouds and shone down on them. The birds began to flit from tree to tree, as their song filled the air. The woman saw a town upon the horizon, the fields were laden with crops; horses and cows dotted the landscape, and carriages were coming and going up ahead.
She looked down at the child and beamed, they had finally reached their true destination.
I woke to the sound of crying and realized it was me. I wiped the tears from my face and wondered why this dream seemed so familiar, where did I know the woman and child from?
"Ms. Chariton, did you have another dream?"
I looked up to see Grace standing at the doorway of my room. What was she doing in my house? And why was she wearing a nurse's uniform?
"I-I don't understand, why are you here?" I asked.
"Sophie, don't you remember, you came here last summer, you had a breakdown after your divorce. But you're making progress and one day you'll get to go home."
I shook my head, I couldn't remember any of it. Why was she making up these lies? I glanced at her name tag: County Memorial Mental Hospital, Grace R.N., it read.
"I'll go call Dr. Weaver, and see if he's able to stop by today and visit with you," she said, "you always feel better after seeing him."
I returned to my bed and waited for Dr. Weaver's visit. About an hour later he poked his head into my room and smiled at me, " I understand you had another dream, Sophie. Do you want to tell me about it?"
I described the dream in detail, telling him about Mrs. Farmer and Grace's role in it as well, and how I didn't understand what it meant.
"Sophie, I believe these dreams are good for you, each time you have one, it brings you closer to the answers you are looking for," he explained.
"But if Grace is a nurse here, then why would I dream about her mother, Chepi, err, Mrs. Farmer?" I implored.
"Sophie, what do you remember about your mother?" he asked.
I thought for a few minutes about that question, and realized my mother hadn't crossed my mind in a very long time; she had passed away right after my divorce. I shrugged my shoulders and remained silent.
Dr. Weaver sighed and said, "Sophie, Chepi wasn't Grace's mother...she was yours.
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