Flight of the Dreamer

Joe gazed out the window at the receding ground as the 787 Dreamliner soared into the blue Texas sky. They once called him a dreamer, but he didn’t feel like a dreamer today. 

He was leaving the only home he had ever known for a new home in a land he had never known. He loved his life here, his city, good-paying job, cozy apartment, and late-model car. His coworkers, friends, and family. He would miss them terribly, and he wondered if they would miss him too.

The plane banked and headed over the sparkling blue expanse of the Gulf of Mexico. Giant cargo ships looked like toy boats below, floating lazily on the sea—peaceful and serene—belying the turmoil he felt inside. 

There were others like him, some waiting on the ground for their turn, some on this very plane, but their shared misfortune didn’t make him feel any better. He didn’t know how they felt, but he didn’t want to leave. But with things the way they were these days, he didn’t have a choice. 

He choked back the lump in his throat and wiped his tears. He closed the window shade, reclined his seat, and drifted into a troubled sleep. 

The ambient cabin hum morphed into shouts of chaos and anger, and he found himself jostled by a crowd. People pointed at him, laughing, jeering, chanting “go home American,” and “you’re not welcome here.” They pressed him on every side, closer and tighter, squeezing him, suffocating  him in a claustrophobic circle of death. 

“Help!” he cried. “I can’t breathe!” 

As the crowd choked the life out of him, he awoke with a gasp, his heart racing and chest heaving, gulping air like a dying man. It was only a dream, but what a terrible dream! It felt so vivid and real. He hoped it was not an omen of things to come.

His breathing slowed; he regained his composure and looked around the cabin at nearby passengers. No one noticed. Everyone was immersed in their own little worlds of electronic devices, quiet conversation, or sleeping. 

The intercom dinged, and a pleasant female voice reminded passengers to fasten their seatbelts and remain seated. He opened the window shade to see the plane descending through the gray clouds towards its destination.  

In fifteen minutes, Joe would arrive at his new home in Guatemala City on this free, one-way flight, courtesy of the U.S. Department of Immigration and Customs Enforcement.