Summer
Every Summer I go back to that seaside town with the salty river. She's waiting for me. Hair brushed, shirt on backwards, and a big smile. That first day, I take her to the ocean and she plays there. Splashes in the water, builds the biggest sandcastle she can, and watches the seagulls. She's careful after one bit her. At night, I help her get all the sand off her body, and tell her what happened since the last time she was awake. She knows already of course, but it's nice to let her know what's happened. I hide the bad news from her, she deserves a summer without storms.
On Wednesdays we go to the library. She has a little green bag she fills to the brim with new books and a documentary for the week. It has her name on it. I give her lunch and she feeds the ducks her goldfish and peas. The peas are a newer addition and actually good for the ducks. She often reads until it's time to go to sleep. My heart aches staring at her. She's so tiny. So young and innocent. She deserved so much better than what I gave her. She deserves so much better than I can give her. I'm the only one she has. There's nobody else in this town.
When the wind starts to pick up and dark clouds appear on the horizon, I take her to get ice cream. The sugar placates her for a time. I know I'm not good enough for her, but we only just managed to get the river back into its banks. The land will not last if the river continues to dump salt into the earth around its banks. At some point it all breaks. She learned more than she should. She cries. It's all I can do to grab her before the wind rips off the roof and the storm floods in. I will not let her be alone in the storms again. She gets tired after those fits, and I clean up the town as she sleeps. We pretend like nothing happens, like everything is always perfect, and I continue to hide the bad news from her.
When the air starts to turn crisp and cool, I take her to her room one last time. The bed is as big as I remember, the heavy blankets and her many stuffed animals lined up in her bed. I tuck her in, and I let her sleep. It seems every year she sleeps a little longer. Maybe next Summer when I go to the town she'll still be asleep. I give her a kiss on her forehead and let her drift off before I leave the town again. She deserves that much from me. I put her through so much, she deserves all the love I can give her.
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