The pink hat was unimportant. Maybe I lost it again the very next day. What mattered is that he jumped into that freezing mucky river to rescue it. Seven-year-old me stared aghast, unable to believe that an adult would sacrifice so much to assuage the tears of a child. There was trepidation, what if he drowned? The hat is not so special to me.
He resurfaces, wringing neon in his heroic hands. “There, good as new,” he smiles.
I don’t speak. My cousin, who later dies in a skydiving accident. If only the air had been a raging river instead.
Day 2: Sounds Like Limon (Emergent)
He looked back over his shoulder, blew me un besito, then walked away. He named me Limonada. A good man. I hurt him, and he didn’t even know it yet. Guilt and shame. Anxiety still gripped me, a flat tire on the way to the airport. Even with so much privilege, he could still change a tire. Income distribution. We learned that, in Guatemala, the richest ten percent control more than fifty percent of the national wealth. He is in that ten percent. The impossibility of a future together is a powerful love potion. I never saw him again.
Day 3: Sparkle Bear (Body)
Mind racing. Anxious and angry; why? Lonely. And you are already in bed. And yet, you have never rejected me… I crawl in, dig myself beneath you. Feel your weight, your warmth, your softness stilling my chaotic mind. Rhythmic breaths and city sounds soothe by paradox. Clean hair, I don’t love the too-sweet scent of that new coconut shampoo, but I do love you. It’s dark. I thought I was angry with you for being absent (asleep), but my skin was only longing to press against the specific sparkle of yours, to be gently crushed by the peace of you.
Day 4: GIRLS (Heart)
Standing outside, the old brick building looms over her. Above the door it says, “GIRLS.” She is here to pick up her youngest child. The door clicks, and she pulls it open. Sounds synonymous with little humans fill the air: laughing, crying, yelling, playing. She peeks through the glass before going into the room. Her daughter is sitting happily at the table, it’s snack time. As she turns the knob, her little girl’s eyes dart to the small window. “Mommy!” Love encompassed in one word. The angel with curls and deep eyes runs. This reunion never gets old.
Day 5: Manta Ray (Awe)
I am struggling to maintain buoyancy. The dive instructor rescued me from popping to the surface. I now hold his arm. We move silently, ten metres beneath the surface. Myriad of fish and colourful choral delight me eyes. I feel joyful. The dive instructor is making the signal for me to look up towards the surface. I bend my neck back and an enormous, graceful shadow floats over us, blocking out the water-refracted light streaming down. A manta ray! Time freezes, I stop breathing, and my eyes are transfixed. I am in love. I am in awe. I am free.
No comments:
Post a Comment