days of hot concrete and sun-hats from rite-aid

Dedicated to my dad!

Days at the pool were my favorite.

I’m not talking about all those swim meets and all those different leagues and swimsuits and caps and goggles that I lived through for so long, although those are separate wonderful memories. Maybe for a different article. I’m talking about little tiny me that wore bathing suits that would fit a dachshund and they had soft, meshy ruffles with little tiny straps and layers of fabric that would have sand in them forever if I wore it to the beach even once.

My least favorite part was sunscreen. My buttery little arms needed so much sunscreen and I hated waiting for it to swallow me whole. I wanted to go, I wanted to run and jump and let the water catch me and soak like a sinking stone and lose my little sunhat in the tides of my dive and bruise my hand on the bottom of the pool and cry and have my mom kiss it before doing the exact same thing only I don’t notice because this time, my goggles filled with water and this pool isn’t chlorinated enough so my eyes hurt only I don’t know that because I’m too little.

I would swim ferociously. I would take out all the lightning in my little terror of a body and slam the water and claw my way to the bottom and let my ears burst and I’d return breathless to the surface only to waterboard myself by scratching my way back down to the filthy bottom of the 13-foot-deep pool and wishing I could stay there forever and feel the pressure push on my eyes and my face and my body forever. I loved feeling like I was collapsing in on myself.

The sunscreen deep in my skin and the chlorine in the water and the sunlight! All the acid in my DNA, it made my skin feel electrified. It felt taut and unbreakable and nothing like the pale, doughy skin that the world was blinded by. 

I couldn’t help but relish in how tired I’d feel halfway through the day. I loved laying on a towel on top of cement and letting everything around me seep warmth into my skin. I loved feeling like my muscles were melting into the ground and like I was about to have a syrupy sleep. My eyelids felt like sap and fingers and toes were gone with the light. They evaporated with the sunscreen. 

I’d eat like a human taking their first bite. I couldn’t get enough. I’d eat until I ached, and once I ate enough to feel like there was nothing separating my belly from the air, I threw myself back into the deep end since I knew I’d sink faster. I liked the pressure on my tummy.

I raged in the tides, Neptune rekindled. My dad threw me in the air and while the fight was fun, it was splashing so far down into the water that thrilled me. I loved tickly bubbles and hearing the water flood my ears. I was never one to plug my nose when I’d jump in. My dad’s hand held me still despite the water between my skin and his grip and up I went into the sunlight, begging to enter deeper into the water than I did before. I’d race, I’d dive, I’d leap, I’d thrash, I’d swim.

After my shower, my weary bones would lay disjointed and unmovable under light and airy covers. My sun-tired skin felt so harsh and kind against the blankets. There was something so wonderful about knowing that in the thick-aired night, it was still warm outside.