I Dream of Chocolate

A children’s dream, Marcus found himself in today. A land of sweet and salty snacks, far as the eye could see. He floated down from the sky, passing clouds of cotton candy that rained milk when touched. His mighty wings did little in this place, as if he could float on the air without them. He smiled warmly, this was always such a pleasure to him.

“Always a pure place, the dreams of a child.” He said to himself. Just as he said those words what looked like a bubble floated upward toward him. He eyed it with interest, a smile ever on his face. Within the bubble was a slice of cake, plate and fork included. It stopped just short of him, waiting for him to reach inside. “This part is new.” Marcus commented. He decided to try it, and it was much as he imagined, delicious. He held onto it after that, looking around. Rivers of chocolate milk, trees of liquorice, stones make of gum drops, leaves glazed and bushes growing hard candies. A wonder, but one he wasn’t here for. So he touched down on a dirt path, or he assumed dirt. More than likely coco powder. He walked, a brisk pace to be sure, but still just a walk. He was after something very specific today.

It didn’t take long to find his target, the one in question wasn’t very subtle. On the chocolate river, in a tugboat made of cookies, was a child no older than five or six. The boy lounged, eating unending amounts of sweet things, not a care in the world. Marcus went to the air, floating easily to him. He landed very gently, only enough noise to show his presence. The boy jumped a little anyway, startled by Marcus, shying away from the great wings. Marcus was a large person, golden hair flowing in the wind with an olive skin tone, his silver wings almost shining in the light.

“Who are you?” the boy asked. Marcus looked at him, a soft smile as ever on his face. The boy was small, a little skinny, with a lighter dark shine to his skin. Marcus bowed lightly, hoping to put the boy at ease.

“Be well young Anthony. I am Marcus, an angel of dreams.” He said, a calming energy literally flowing from his voice. Anthony felt easier, more peaceful at the sound. “This, I must say, is the best cake I’ve ever had.”

“It is? But, I don’t even know what it tastes like?” Anthony said. Marcus rose a brow at that, motioning to an empty seat on the boat. Anthony told him to sit, so he did. “How did you get here?”

“This is a dream young Anthony, or did you forget rivers of made of water, not chocolate milk?” Marcus chuckled. Anthony made a face, but Marcus waved it away. “I’m an angel of dreams, specifically I am tasked to visit upon dreaming children, assure them of the greatness of life, and the joys of the future.” Marcus explained. Anthony looked confused, and for a moment the smile faded from the angel’s face. Then he spoke again. “You don’t believe in angels, do you?”

“Mama said angels don’t exist. Papa said he doesn’t know.” Anthony said. Marcus nodded.

“So, since I’m here anyway, think of me as just part of your dream. Would you mind telling me why you have such a wonderous land of confections? Sweet things and the like.”

Anthony didn’t answer at first. He looked uncomfortable, reach behind his head and scratching. Marcus was patient, he was in no rush to leave this place as he took another bite of his cake. Anthony looked around, as if just realizing everything around him wasn’t real, or willing it to be real. Marcus could understand that easily enough.

“I don’t have any of these things.” He said, this time with a sorrowful face. “Sometimes I get a treat, if I’m real good. Mama and Papa can’t buy a lot, not like other kids. Other kids at school, they have a lot of things to eat. I can’t ask for sweets, not when we sometimes can’t get food.” Anthony explained, showing a great maturity for his age. Marcus nodded, now his smiled faded to a frown. Most will dream of what they cannot have. Marcus always preferred children’s dreams, they only wanted the simplest of things. Toys, treats, or even the most basic as a parent attention.

“Why don’t we see how your parents are doing?” Marcus said, waving his hand. At once a hole appeared in the air, looking like a circular television screen. Through it Anthony and Marcus could see a man and woman, awake at night, talking rather loudly. There were several papers on the table they sat at. Both the angel and child were silent as they listened.

“We can’t keep this up.” The man said. “My boss, he’s looking for everything to get rid of me. He’s already cut my pay, and I’ve looked into every legal thing to fight it.”

“You think I don’t know that? I can’t even find a job to help, Anthony needs me at home and no one wants to hire me near here. All because I married out of the hood.” The woman snapped.

“So its my fault now, just for being from somewhere else?” the man snapped back.

This argument was above Anthony’s understanding, save the basics of work and money. Marcus had seen this same story from the dawn of time, every culture, every country. He could only sigh to himself as he looked to his side and saw Anthony’s sorrowful face. The boy felt, Marcuse thought, that he might be the problem. Marucs stayed quiet though, letting the parents keep talking. The two didn’t shout, but now they were calming down. The man took a sip of water before speaking again.

“Look, I love you, even if everyone from your family hates me. I don’t know what to do to fix this, we live here because we can’t afford to live anywhere else. But I want more for Anthony and you. Maybe I’ll have to get second job.”

“You’re gone most of the time anyway. Anthony might even forget who you are at this rate. And your boss isn’t making it so you can even maintain a second job.” Anthony’s mother protested. “I might have to pay a friend to watch him so I can work outside the area. Cheaper than a baby sitter.”

“Well, we could swing it if we don’t get lunch things, well except for Anthony.” The father offered. Neither sounded happy with it, but they wrote the idea down. Anthony finally spoke.

“Its always like this, its my fault.” Anthony said.

“It will never be your fault. No child is at fault for the ignorance of adults.” Marcus assured, standing again. He placed his cake down and put his hands on Anthony’s shoulders. With a deep breath he spoke, softly but firmly. “Your parents, they had you because they wanted you. You might be the only good thing in their lives. Others in the world, from both their families and old homes, do not accept them being together. It is stupid, and something you are fortunately too young to understand. But, I can tell you this, your parent are good people. They have, and will, sacrifice everything for you. So, do you want this dream to be, at least, somewhat real?” he asked.

“I just want mama and papa happy.” Anthony answered. His dream was of cakes and treats, but seeing his parents brought his true wishes to surface. Marcus smiled like the sun then.

“That is the single best answer you could have said!” Marcus thundered, startling the poor boy. The angle apologized, letting the boy calm down for a moment. “Keep being good young Anthony, and remember that it comes from here.” He said, point to the boy’s heart. “Kindness and compassion, for the said of kindness and compassion. I will be watching over you, now I think its time you woke. Don’t forget the textbook today.”

With that final word Marcus spread his wings wide and flew, up beyond the cotton candy clouds.

***

Anthony stood on the balcony of his home, looking to the forest behind it. He smiled, thinking about how he got here. A special dream he had, of cakes and treats, was the last thing during the bad times of his youth. A few days, he believes, after that his fathers’ old boss was sued. His father was able to take legal actions and a number of fronts. The money he received let his parents move to a better place, where both of them could work decent jobs. He remembers a lot of treats then, not as much as other kids because his parents didn’t want him spoiled. They taught him to help others, respect others, and hear them out no matter what. Now, here he was in a large house, bordered by other larger houses, with his own pasty business and the respect of most. His parents did tell him he was going to do something with cakes. Then he heard a gust of wind, and a small clank. Looking to his left he saw a plate with a slice of cake.

“Where did that come from?” he wondered, also spotting a note. He read it aloud. “This is the cake of dreams, one you should know very well. Goodness is sweet, far more than sugar, and you have it in spades. Thank you, for showing that there is still some hope, at least found the dreams of chocolate.”

Anthony was still after reading that note. Memories flashing again, odd ones he wasn’t sure existed or not. Silver wings and soothing voices, at least he thinks so. The idea fills him with warmth, and he takes a bite. He smiles, for it is the most delicious cake he have had.