Jordan yawned and stretched his little arms above his head. Then, he remembered. “I dreamed Mamita had got me my Thomas the Train toy, mami. And papi was there too and he wanted me to go with him somewhere, mami.”
“I thought Mamita had told you not to talk about your dreams before breakfast. You should listen to what she tells you.”
He curled back into a dreamless sleep; his mom carried him out to the car. When he saw the small, yellow single story house that was his Mamita’s, Jordan felt butterflies in his stomach. He had talked about his dream before breakfast. But what could go wrong? He ran to the front door, which was unlocked.
“En mi cuarto.”
Jordan ran down the dark hallway. The light from the sun hadn’t reached the windows yet. He pushed open the door to Mamita’s room and there she was, sitting on her bed. A newspaper wrapped box was beside her. He leaped onto the bed, pulling on the plaid bed covers, and greedily clawed at the newspaper. A Thomas the Train toy revealed itself.
“Gracias, Mamita!” He showered her in kisses. His mom and grandmother chatted as he ran outside to the driveway to play with his new treasure. The driveway was inclined, making it perfect for rolling his train down the bumpy, cracked concrete.
“Bye, Jordan.” His mom blew a kiss to him as she sat in the driver’s seat, ready to go to work. When he looked up to wave at her, he let go of his train, and it started rolling down the driveway, towards the main road.
“Hey!” The train was picking up speed and Jordan couldn’t stop it before it reached the main road. The train was rolling into the road, slowing down in the middle of the lane as a car was zooming in that direction. Jordan ran as fast as he could towards the road. His mom watched in her rearview mirror, frozen in horror as the car drove closer and closer to her child, who running in the street to reach his toy.
The car swerved, honking at Jordan to avoid hitting him but its tires crushed the little plastic toy.
“NO!” Jordan fell to his knees and his jaw went slack. He had known this toy for minutes, but its death had a major impact. He shook from nearly being killed himself. His loud wailing brought Mamita out of the house running, his mom got out of her car, already at Jordan’s side. Mamita scooped him up like an injured kitten and letting his salty tears soak her shirt.
“I’m so sorry, baby.” His mom stroked his hair. “What were you thinking, running in the street like that? You could have been seriously hurt.”
What could go wrong? Jordan looked at the blue, red and black shards of plastic and thought bitterly that he should have listened.
No debes de hablar de tus suenos antes de comer el desayuno.
The women took Jordan in the house and eventually his mom got in her car to go to work. Jordan stayed on the couch most of the day, watching cartoons, not even wanting to go out for their daily walk. What Jordan didn’t notice was the breeze that tousled his hair this morning, which propelled his little train to go faster do the driveway into the street, was no ordinary breeze of nature. Behind the bushes, invisible to all eyes, stood his father’s ghost, wishing with all his spirit to have his son with him again.