For those that have read the Body by Stephen King:

What did Gordie dream? What does it symbolize?

Referring to this part:

At last I slipped into something I knew was a dream. Chris
and I were swimming at White's Beach, a lake in Brunswick. It
was where Teddy had seen the boy hit his head and almost
drown. In my dream we were out in deep water, swimming
lazily along, with a hot July sun up in the sky. From behind us
came cries and shouts of laughter. On the sandy beach, people
lay face down on blankets, and little children played with plastic
buckets at the edge of the water or sat happily pouring sand
into their hair. Teenagers formed grinning groups and the boys
watched the girls walk endlessly up and down in twos and
threes, never alone, the secret places of their bodies wrapped in
swimsuits.
Mrs Cote, our English teacher from school, floated past us on a
rubber boat. She was lying on her back, dressed in her usual
September-to-june uniform of a grey suit.
'Be careful boys,' she said. 'If you're not good I'll hit you so hard
that you'll go blind. Now, Mr Chambers, we'll hear the poem
"Mending Wall", please.'
'I tried to give the money back,' Chris said. 'Mrs Simons said
OK, but she took it! Do you hear me? She took it! Now what are
you going to do about it? Are you going to hit her until she's
blind?'
' "Mending Wall", Mr Chambers, if you please.'
Chris threw me a desperate look, as if to say Didn't I tell you it
would be like this? and then began: 'Something there is that
doesn't love a wall, that sends the —' And then his head went
under, his mouth filling with water in the middle of repeating
the poem.
He broke through the surface, crying, 'Help me, Gordie! Help
me!'
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Then he was dragged under again. Looking into the clear water, I
could see two bare swollen bodies holding his ankles. One was Vern
and the other was Teddy, and their open eyes were empty and
white. Chris's head broke out of the water again. He reached one
hand towards me and out of his mouth came a screaming, womanish cry that rose and rose in the hot, sunny, summer air. I looked
wildly towards the beach, but nobody had heard. Chris's scream
was cut off as the bodies pulled him under the water again. As they
dragged him down to black water, I could see his eyes turned up
to me and his hands reaching out helplessly. But instead of diving
down and trying to save him, I swam madly for the shore, or at
least to a place where the water would not be over my head.
Before I could get there — before I could even get close — I felt a
soft, rotten hand wrap itself firmly around my leg and begin to
pull. A scream started to rise in my chest . . . but before it came
out, the dream passed into reality. There was Teddy with his hand
on my leg. He was shaking me awake. It was my turn to keep
guard.