HOT. It was a hot, hot day. I wanted to stay at home. All I wanted to do was sit on the porch by the fan and let the wind rush over me, with my fingers wrapped around a cold glass of lemonade. The lemons, the sugar, and ice might have helped to soothe the metallic taste in my mouth. My tongue felt swollen and too large, and the dryness was making it stick to the roof of my mouth. But Mama had said I couldn’t stay at home, not when it was my cousin’s birthday party and the whole family would be there. It was Saturday. I used to love Saturdays. On Saturdays I would take extra classes at school, but I'd had to stop going to those. Mama said they were too expensive, and that I was just fine without them. Now I never knew what a Saturday might bring. 

Mama had been up and in the kitchen since sunrise, cleaning and making her famous mac and cheese for the party. She came into my room, pushed open the curtains, and told me to ‘rise and shine’. The sun beamed into my eyes. She sat on the edge of my bed for a moment. She let the silence fall then sighed. ‘Good morning, baby. Get up. Your cousins will be here soon.’ Mama went back downstairs and opened all the windows and doors to let a breeze push through the house. The smell of Clorox and baked cheese wafted into my bedroom. We were all supposed to be cleaning our rooms and doing our chores. I put on the yellow backpack that Mama and Papa gave me for my birthday, and I spent the morning camping in Mama and Papa’s closet. It was dark and cool. I lay on the floor; the sun came through the slats of the closet door, giving me zebra stripes. I liked the smell of the black leather from Papa’s boots and the starch from his shirts.  

Betty called my name up the stairs. ‘It’s time to go.’ She opened the closet door and picked me up by my wrists. ‘Come on, let’s go. Everyone’s ready.’ I dragged my feet down the stairs.  Betty and Simon never bothered to argue with Mama these days. When the time came to leave, they just made their way to the driveway and stood there waiting. They said they didn’t want to make things any harder. Betty wore a wide-brimmed sun hat and a pair of cut-off denim shorts over her swimsuit. Simon was wearing a green tracksuit, but insisted that he was not hot. He was playing on the red Gameboy that he got last Christmas. I asked him if I could play too. He ignored me, as he did every time, but I always asked anyway. Betty was chewing her gum, blowing an occasional bubble, as she riffled through her bag, making sure that she had also remembered her cherry Chapstick and eyeshadow palettes. She had all her new copies of TeenBeat and TopPop magazines in her tote bag, which she planned to read with the older cousins by the pool.  

Aunt Celeste had dropped off the twins, Susie and Peter, earlier that day so Mama could give them a ride to the pool. Mama had the biggest car, a paneled station wagon, with room for a muddle of cousins. Aunt Celeste and Uncle Victor would meet us there after they finished closing the shop for the day. It used to be fun when Susie and Peter would come over to the house. These days, they didn’t want to play with me as much. They told me to stop being a baby, though they were only one grade above me. They preferred to play with the older cousins now and would follow Betty and Simon everywhere. 

We were still waiting on Mama to finish carrying the rest of the gear into the car. The sun’s glare reflected directly off the car into my eyes as we waited. I tried to blink it away. Sometimes, the sun in my eyes or on my skin would make the feeling bubble up inside me. The feeling was hard to stop, but when it happened Papa would tell me to count to 10 and then he would hold me tightly. That helped, sometimes. One Mississippi. Two.  

We finally piled into the car. It had been baking in the sun all morning, so a suffocating heat had built up inside. The car’s AC hadn’t been working for weeks. Mama said she didn’t have time to go to the mechanic. My thighs were sticky against the hot leather seats. I was smushed between Simon and the car door, so I rolled the window all the way down and tilted my head out to let the wind beat on my face as we drove. The drumbeat of the wind against my ears blocked out the happy chatter of Susie and Peter in the claustrophobic backseat and the Tracy Chapman album that Mama played every time she drove in the car these days.  

By the time we got to the pool the sun had risen right over my head and was barreling down on me like an evil eye. The pool was buzzing with activity. Everyone in the neighborhood was trying to escape the thick mid-summer heat. I liked this pool. Papa would bring me here every summer when he was trying to teach me how to swim. He would hold my belly up with both of his arms and I would swing my legs to paddle in the water. We would glide along the water. It felt nice. Swimming helped when I would get that feeling, but now I didn’t want to swim anymore.  One Mississippi. 

Our family had set up for the party in the shaded picnic area with the barbeque stations and the patches of browning grass. Uncle Tank had already fired up the barbeque and was sorting out the meats. Simon helped Mama carry out the foil sheets of mac and cheese to the red and white checkered picnic tables. Aunt Judy was tackling the tangle of balloons and kids. The noise level rose with each new cousin joining the party. Uncle Al was handing out rainbow popsicles to all the kids with outstretched hands. As soon as we arrived, Betty and Simon scattered to find their favorite cousins and friends, Susie and Peter trailing behind them. Mama called out to the youngest ones, to make sure they stayed at the kiddie end of the pool and told the older kids to watch out for the babies. Uncle Tank raised his hand to give me a high five as I passed by, and I raised my hand to slap his. Then I made my way to the other side of the pool, far away from everyone.  

I laid down on a white plastic lounger with my yellow backpack. The lounger was old and broken, and its edges poked my skin. It was not comfortable, but I lay down, looked up and took in the whole sky. The sun beat my face. Droplets of sweat started to form on my upper lip and brow. I picked my head up, squinted, and looked around the swimming pool area. On a day like today it was best to be by the water. I had set up camp at the quieter but more exposed corner of the pool, where there were no orange umbrellas or trees. But I could still hear the steady hum of laughter and splashing from the slides at the other end of the pool. The water in the perfectly rectangular pool was baby blue, with only the occasional ripple making its way to my end. The sun glimmered on the surface. It made the world distorted and shimmery, like a heavy haze.  

Everything was wavy. My eyes grew heavy. I wished Papa was with us at the pool today too, like last summer. I tried to remember it, but that was hazy too. I must have dozed off for a little bit. I’m not sure how long I would have been asleep for, but when I woke, I looked up at bright eyes in prescription kiddie water goggles staring over me. I blinked a few times to focus my eyes, but I already knew who it was. Mia. One Mississippi. 

‘Aunty said I should come and get you and that the sun will make you sick. Is that true?  Can the sun do that?’ Mia was still peering at me, even though I gave no indication of moving. 

‘Hellooooo, did you hear me? Your mama said you should get out of the sun’. 

I lifted myself to sit up on the lounger. Flushed. Unsteady. Mia looked pleased with herself. Every time there was a family gathering, she was my shadow. I couldn’t shake her. No shade for me but my shadow followed me everywhere. 

‘My dad says you should come and get a popsicle before we run out’. I told her to tell  Uncle Al ‘no, thank you'. Then Mia stretched out her hand in front of my nose and unfurled her little fingers to reveal four melted gummy bears. 

‘Here! These are for you. Come and get some food. There’s lots of candy. Peter already ate six hotdogs and jumped straight into the pool. I told him he was going to throw up. Susie and  Peter are already swimming in the deep end.  l with the other big kids. But I’m… I’m waiting for you’. Mia tugged the edge of my t-shirt to guide me back towards everyone. I shuffled along as Mia led the way. My head was hurting. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Simon’s new friends cannonballing into the pool, followed by playful squeals and splashes. Betty sat clustered under the umbrellas with two other girls. They were all looking through Betty’s magazines, giggly and laughing with their cherry Chapstick smiles. Mia stopped to look at them, then looked up at me.  

‘Sometimes when the big kids play… it’s a little scary, don’t you think? Do you want to  swim in the pool?’ 

I shrugged maybe. Mia was ready for the pool party. She was wearing a floral pink swim cap that matched her favorite pink swimsuit with the frills around the waist. She had a fresh Hello  Kitty band-aid on her knee. Her tiny feet wore pink flipflops adorned by charms in the shape of fruit. Five years old and she still carried her teddy bear everywhere she went. I pressed my hands on the sides of my face to ease my aching head.  

‘Do you want to see the cake? It’s shaped like a unicorn. Phoebe hasn’t cut it yet.’ 

My heart was beating into my fingertips. Papa had said I should breathe and count to ten when I felt it coming. One Mississippi. 

‘They got a red velvet cake. That’s ok. But, you know, chocolate’s my favorite’. 

The droplets of sweat were dripping down my face and making my eyes sting with the saltiness. Everything was happening fast, but in slow-motion. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi.  

‘Aren’t you hungry already?’ 

I shook my head. ‘Not hungry’. I could feel the blood pumping in my temples. Three Mississippi. Four.  

Mia shrieked when she saw that Aunt Celeste and Uncle Victor had arrived at the party.  ‘Hi Aunty Celeste! Hi Uncle Victor!’, Mia exclaimed, waving the hand with the teddy in it  vigorously in their direction. Her other hand still firmly tugged the hem of my t-shirt.  

‘Come on, let’s go’. 

Five Mississippi.  

Aunty Celeste was making her way down the line at the picnic table, greeting everyone in  a flurry of air kisses, waves, and warm embraces. Uncle Victor had bent over to give Susie and  Peter his usual overwhelming hugs as they both stuffed their faces with pizza and hotdogs.

‘Let’s go say hi’, Mia insisted. She grabbed my clammy hand in hers. 

Six Mississippi. Mia tugged at my arm. I tugged it back. I didn’t want to. Seven Mississippi.

Mia let go. She went over to the grown-ups and came back clasping a red plastic cup of party lemonade. She extended her hand, and I extended mine to clutch the cup. Without saying a word, she turned on the heels of her tiny pink flip flops and skipped back to join the others at the table or cake. The sugar and lemons helped to cool me down, but the metallic taste was still in my mouth. Eight Mississippi. 

I was hungry now. My stomach felt hollow. I gathered myself and wandered further into the party. I wove my way through the people and looked at the plates with ribs, potato salad, fried chicken, and mac and cheese. Screwed-up napkins and half cups of soda pop were scattered across the tables. Phoebe had already cut the cake, and Aunty Judy and Uncle Al were passing around plates. Everyone was spread out around the picnic area and the pool. Some kids sat by the edge of the pool, eating cake with their legs dangling in the water. I stood on the edge,  wondering if I should dip my toes in too. Would that stop the feeling? I observed the water— the splashes and ripples. It was making me dizzy and drawing me in. I saw a shimmering reflection in the water next to me, looking back up at me. I didn’t know where she came from, but Mia stood close beside me. Too close. 

Nine Mississippi. 

She was grasping my hand, making it hard to breathe. She was taking all my oxygen, and the sun was still hanging over my head. It was too close. I clenched my teeth, and my jaw was tightening. The metallic taste in my mouth had traveled down into my throat. It was burning now.  I couldn’t get away from the sun.  

Ten Mississippi. Ten.

The feeling was bubbling over, and it wanted to come out. I couldn’t keep it in; it wanted to come out. I felt my arms release, with force. The nerves in my arms tingled from the sensation.  My head was reeling, but my body was tense. For a moment there was nothing but the sun and silence.  

Ten. 

My arms had released with force against Mia. Mia looked at me with stunned eyes.  Her pink flipflops and teddy were thrown into the air. It was quiet. It was finally quiet.  

Sun and silence. Ten.  

Ten.  

Then, like lightning, the world came rushing back in. Mia’s tiny body hit the water with the delay of a thunderclap. The water plumed and cast up from the pool, a constellation of droplets that haloed Mia like diamonds. Each droplet taking the sun and breaking it down, refracting the light into tiny rainbows around us. Each drop from the spray looked like a small glass ball, thousands of tiny-looking glasses and mirrors in the air.  

In their reflection I saw the kids laughing at me in school. Laughing at my yellow backpack and calling me ‘special’. I saw Papa. I saw Mama’s shoulders heavy. I saw Betty and Simon,  distant and quiet. I saw Uncle Tank. I saw Mia. I saw Papa. I saw me. I saw the sun.  

  Like a broken levee, my thoughts started flooding back to me and the world was in full color. Why did Papa leave us? Was it me? Why was Mama always sobbing in her room when she thought I  couldn’t hear her? And no one will talk to me. Was it me?  

Is it me?

I heard Aunty Judy cry out, calling Mia’s name. I felt the gasps and commotion and all eyes on the pool. Refractions of pink and ripples showed Mia beneath the surface. She was submerged, like a frilly cannonball in the deep end, covered in a cloud of bubbles that popped and crackled as they reached the surface. She was, clearly, heavier than she looked. 

Mia’s teddy and a pink flipflop floated to the baby blue surface of the water. In the corner of my eye, I saw Uncle Al rushing into the pool. He dove in, with all his clothes still on, scooping up Mia in both his arms. He waded up through the water cradling his daughter, placing her gently on the patchy grass and examining her with hurried and breathless intent. The color had drained from Mia’s face, giving her a bluish tint. Uncle Al started to compress her tiny chest, one hand over the other. One. Two. Three. He did it again and examined her again. One. Two. Three. And again. One. Two. Three. Mia coughed, spluttered, and spit up, fluttering her eyes. 

Aunt Judy grabbed me and pulled me from the edge of the pool. Her hands tightened around my upper arms, she shook me hard, and started yelling. I could only tell she was yelling because her lips were moving. I couldn’t hear anything but the ringing in my ears, as if I was underwater. I thought she would never stop. Why wouldn’t she stop? That’s when it started to rise within me. At first I thought it was just a rumble from my stomach, but the thing grew louder, vibrated through my vocal cords, and out through my metallic mouth. I let out a scream. I wasn’t even sure if it was me screaming at first. Everyone hushed.  

But I could not stop. I would not stop. I began heaving and falling into myself. Uncle Tank made it to me faster than Mama could. My steely screams were muffled in Uncle Tank’s chest as he picked me up in his arms and took me to the shaded area. There had been no shade that day, until Uncle Tank’s embrace. Uncle Tank didn’t smell like Papa, but his broad shoulders shielded the sun all the same. 

In fact, there had been no shade since Papa left. It had been the last cloudy day of spring.  Before that the sun had rarely made an appearance all year, especially when Mama and Papa were arguing. It was as though the more they bickered and yelled the more overcast the sky became.  Sometimes I thought I heard my name in the middle of their arguments but Mama would shush him and speak softer so we couldn’t hear. Papa would say something that would make Mama cry for hours. Mama would say something that would make Papa silent for days.  

It was a Saturday morning when Papa came down the stairs wearing his old leather flight jacket and clutching a stuffed duffel bag. He kissed Betty, Simon and me on our foreheads. He drew me into his embrace. My nose dug in and breathed the musky smell of Papa and his worn leather jacket. He told us he was leaving. I didn’t understand what he meant. I told him I didn’t want to be without him. I just couldn’t. 

It was Saturday. That day, the clouds parted and gave way to the first sunny Saturday of the year. Since then, it had just been the sun and an unbearable summer. Some Saturdays I stand on the front porch looking, waiting for Papa to come home. But he never comes, only the sun. 

*** 

The sirens were blinding and the flashing lights deafening. The lifeguards hovered over  Mia’s area of the pool. The rest of the pool was pin-drop quiet. Everyone was lingering restlessly, trying to examine Mia, and whispering about what had happened. The paramedics arrived, and picked Mia up into their ambulance. Uncle Al and Aunty Judy went with them. The music had stopped. The party was over. Mama hadn’t moved an inch. She just stood there and looked at me through the crowd’s mumbles and shuffles. I fell in a pile at her feet. She crouched down to pick me up, saying, ‘Oh baby, why?’ over and over until she couldn’t anymore.  

*** 

The spotlight over my head from the single bulb was sharp. They put me in a dark room.  It was freezing, the AC cranking. My thighs sat on a cold metal chair. My toes were bouncing on the ground and my body swaying side to side, to stop the feeling bubbling up again. The lady with the clipboard and square eyes told me she was a social worker. Now that the doctor was done examining me, she would ask me some questions. She asked me if I could remember what had happened that afternoon at the pool. She told me that Mia had been hurt, but she was going to be ok. She asked me why I did it. My tongue had swollen my mouth shut, and the scream had used up the last of my words, so I just sat there. She looked at me and then she looked at Mama with questioning eyes. There was a knock at the door. The square-eyed lady closed her folder to go and answer it.  

On the other side of the door, I could hear the low drum of a voice. Then I saw the outline of Papa’s broad shoulders. He walked into the room, and I rushed to him, burying my head in his leather jacket. He sat me up and chased my eyes until I could look into his. Papa asked me why I  had pushed Mia. I said it was the sun. He asked me why I had screamed like that. I said it was the sun. 

It was the sun. It was the sun.  

One Mississippi.