For my little brother

Evangelism

The wind was blowing, ruffling through my hair, my shirt flapping in the breeze like a flag. The toxic smell of garbage was almost pleasant to me, as was the sunset blinding my eyes. In the middle of that sun stood a small boy, his back turned towards me, looking into the distance across the ocean at a horizon filled with red.

"Evan!" I called out.

The boy turned around, his face still concealed by the glare of the setting sun. "...Garrett?" he said softly, so soft that I wasn't sure if he actually said it or not.

"Evan! It's me, it really is me!"

The boy began running, running towards me. His arms reached out in front of him as he rushed to touch, smell, embrace the one person he longed to see again. I started to run towards him, but as we neared, the gap between us became more and more profound. He was just barely out of reach, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't close the distance, couldn't reach whatever was in front of me, as if invisible hands were holding me back. I was running, moving my legs, but not going anywhere, like a runner on a treadmill at full speed. No, I thought, not this again!

I took a flying leap and tried to cross No Man's Land, tried to break free of my restraints and bridge the gap. The ground met my face, hitting me with an abrupt slap, the boy having seemingly vanished into thin air. There was a sharp sting of pain, and with it, I opened my eyes in shock.

I looked around. The ground had receded away from me, leaving my head dangling precariously above a significant drop. Below me were the legs of three sleeping bodies, none of them matching the description of the boy I saw just moments earlier. And speaking of bodies, my own...

I gripped the shelf and pushed myself back. Soon, my head was back on the right side of the edge, a solid surface to rest upon. The two boys next to me were still sleeping. Surprisingly I had failed to wake them up.

It was that dream. Again. I had it again.

I stretched my legs and tried to go back to sleep. Sleep evaded me, wouldn't let me hold on to it. I couldn't toss and turn due to the cramped nature of the room. Too many sleeping bodies, too much heat, too little comfort.

Too many thoughts.

I tried to roll over and accidentally kneed Ricky, who was sleeping beside me, in the back. "Sorry," I whispered, "I didn't mean to."

"That's fine," he responded in a groggy voice. "I can't sleep either."

There was a quiet shuffle. I looked up to see a small boy on the opposite side of the room, making his way over the pile of bodies towards the slop bucket. He misstepped and set foot on someone's arm. There was a sharp "Ouch!" which cut through the night air like a knife, jolting everybody awake.

"It's too hot up here," Ricky continued. "Too crowded, too packed, too compact. Can't move around, can't turn my head, can't even get out. I feel like I'm suffocating in an open box."

I rubbed my eyes, trying to clear the image of my brother in my eyes. So close, yet so far. It hurt knowing that it was a dream, a painful dream even though I always longed to see him.

He tiled his head slightly, as if he were trying to look at me. "You ever get used to this?" he asked.

"I've only been here for a few days. I don't think I'll get used to this even if I lived here for a year."

He sighed. I felt like I had just shot him with my words. "And years I'll probably be in here for."

There was a great deal of squirming and fidgeting around us as the boys all tried to go back to sleep unsuccessfully after the uninvited wake-up call. When things had settled down a bit, I felt the soft tickling of light as it landed on my eyelids. It was white like the moon, the moonlight I saw yesterday. When I looked up, I thought I saw it for a split second before it disappeared. Was I hallucinating again?