last night i dreamed that i was in a strange roadside diner that was basically a mobile home. there was an east indian woman there with her three children and she was looking very sad and desperate. i started to talk to her but she was reluctant, so instead i focused on the children. the boy was about ten, the girl about seven, and the little girl was maybe two. we were sipping sodas and laughing and making faces. i realized i had to get going and was saying goodbye just as two east indian men came into the diner, angry at the mother for something. the children's faces went dark and forlorn. i was reluctant to leave but felt pressed for time - i was driving my van to pick some people up and was going to be late. i felt bad about leaving because an argument was breaking out but i didn't understand the language it was happening in. i walked out of the diner and got into my van, just as the two men came out, one of them holding the infant girl, both of them yelling, and the mother following behind, sobbing and pleading. the two other children emerged just as i was starting the engine and the boy came running to my window. "please take us with you," he said, "please. we can't stay this way." i looked over at the argument - the men each had a hand on the baby girl and were playing a kind of tug-of-war with her; the seven year old girl was climbing into the passenger seat. "i don't know, what about your mother?" i asked. "never mind her," the boy said, angrily, "she isn't good for anything, she neglects us for them," he motioned at the two men. "why are they fighting?" i asked. "they both think they are the baby's father," he replied, "but mother knows that neither of them are." i nodded slowly. the seven year old looked stoically ahead as though simply waiting for me to take them away. i thought for a moment and said to the boy, "okay. get the baby. we will go." he nodded back at me and calmly turned and approached the arguing adults, asking to hold his sister. none of them knew what we'd planned, of course, and were happy to have someone else take responsibility for the crying child while they continued to yell at each other. the boy slowly walked to the van and climbed in to the backseat, holding the baby, who was still crying. i backed out of my parking spot and started to just calmly drive away, the gravel griding under my tires, and the vision of the mother and two men arguing growing smaller in my rearview mirror. only when we'd turned a corner and they were completely out of sight did the seven year old girl climb into the backseat and burst into tears while her older brother held both her and the baby tightly. the boy's face remained blank and dark, he looked out the front window at night falling as i drove them away, not knowing anything about where i'd take them or what i'd do with them; only that i had to rescue them. i didn't even know their names.