Electra Rose
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Water pt 1 (of 2)
🕑 Added 2018-01-31 13:44:41 +0000 UTCThe sun beat down so hot that the concrete in the street seemed to waver and radiate it back up, making her skin sticky. May was already wearing as little as humanly possible to keep from overheating, but that just made her sweaty skin stick to things. Like the couch, the door handle, her phone...
She needed to cool down. The usual option was to take a 15 minute walk to the well air-conditioned gas station to buy soft serve ice cream. But that involved running across a highway in her crappy flip flops. Also- hot. Unbearably hot.
It was getting so hot that she was desperate enough to use the community pool.
By herself, it didn’t even sound like fun. Usually she would go to splash around with friends, but they were all on family vacations. It would be mostly deserted, but for parents and their young children, maybe. And some very grumpy – and not terribly cute- lifeguards. They were always caught up in some kind of interpersonal drama, too. Like they thought they were starring in some young adult drama that everyone around them sort of awkwardly pretended not to notice.
Also, no matter when you came out of the pool, it was still going to be swelteringly hot out. It was still the height of summer.
May considered it- it couldn’t be any worse than lying here on the pleather couch like a lump under a fan. Even though just the idea of moving seemed horrible beyond contemplation and her limbs felt heavier than lead. If she just summoned the strength to get up, grab her swimsuit, and go to the pool, she could cool off for a few hours- maybe see her Gran, too. This was about the time of year she usually made homemade ice cream with strawberries.
She could ask her sister if she wanted to go, too. Alicia was out with her friends, but they hadn’t been to visit Grandma since last summer. They would have gone at Christmas, but it was far too busy to manage.
May rolled over to grab her phone from off the charger on the floor and tapped out a message. Ugh. Even her thumbs were somehow sweaty.
The heat was making her crazy. Or maybe it was the quiet. Getting up to turn on the TV was unthinkable, even though it would be entertaining. For some reason she couldn’t shake the feeling that it would make the house even hotter. But that was insane.
Without the noise of music or voices, all May could do was listen to the house. Her dad had always said those noises were the house “settling”, but that really only brought more questions. Why was it doing that? What was it settling on? When would it stop, and would that even be a good thing?
It was so quiet she could actually kind of identify the individual sources of the noise. Pipes rumbled quietly, probably water from the boiler or something. The appliances- particularly the fridge- hummed with electricity. The air conditioner was obviously working hard as well, blasting out air over her head. It just wasn’t enough in a house this old, with such iffy insulation and the old, badly-sealed windows. It was expensive to get new windows or have the walls torn down to be filled with insulation, not to mention buying a new air conditioner.
This was her life now. Her existence felt limited to this moment, sweating heavily on a cheap, sweat-sticky pleather couch in mid-July. It was so incredibly boring and mind-numbing that it might have come around to being a meditative state.
Then her phone buzzed on her stomach. May lifted it above her head to see it better, because she hadn’t yet reached that level of self- awareness where she could read small text placed flat on her stomach by just raising her head. Someday, maybe. It would be a triumph for tired, sweaty, inadequately-entertained young women everywhere.
She squinted a bit at her phone. It was Alicia, saying she would meet her there later, after a movie at her friends’ house. Well, that was that.
If Alicia was coming, it was worth it to go. She’d feel like a real garbage can if her sister got there before she did, when she was evidently out with her friends for at least another hour or so. She’d committed herself to leaving, so she might as well go now. Grandma’s house had better siding, insulation, and a newer air conditioner.
Come to think of it, it was really stupid of her to have not just gone. She could have been eating dessert in comfort by now, if she’d just gotten off her ass.
Her phone case was already supposedly waterproof, but May grabbed the bag-type one she’d ordered to go over it as well. Two layers of water protection was probably good enough, but last summer she’d had a bad experience with a leak in her older phone case. RIP phone. But this one was new, and she wasn’t chancing it. She’d resolved to only get burned once on that.
Her swimsuit was by the door, along with some cash in another waterproof baggie. May tucked the rest of her money from her shorts pockets into the baggie with last year’s, and dumped everything she was taking into a drawstring workout bag.
She changed into her bikini in the bathroom because it was the coldest room in the house. The cool fake marble tiles felt amazing on her feet. She considered laying down on them, then dismissed that as delirium. Bathroom floors were not clean enough for that. Couldn’t be. Besides, there wasn’t enough floor space for her to do that without cradling the toilet.
She pulled her shorts over her bikini bottoms and decided to just wear the bikini top solo. She’d need to change clothes later at Grandma’s, but she had clothes there anyway. Oh- no she didn't. Those would be far too small. She sighed and went to the trouble of vacuum-sealing a shirt and pair of jean shorts into a plastic container so that the clothes would stay dry. It still felt like she was forgetting something. She had her charger double-bagged, she had money. She wasn’t naked and she wasn’t waiting for anyone. The only one holding up her day was her.
May padded down the wooden stairs, drawstring bag swung loosely over her shoulder. The stairs creaked with basically every step, which only seemed louder in the overwhelming silence of her deserted house.
The pool wasn’t far, but flip flops would be a horrible decision. The hot hot pavement would burn right through them anyway. Plus they sucked for any pace more strenuous than shuffling. May crammed her feet into her shoes by the door and air kissed a goodbye to her empty house, letting the wooden screen door slam shut behind her.
The sunshine and heat were so intense that the tar on the street was looking semi-liquid and bubbly. The stink of hot tar overwhelmed her nostrils and made her scrunch up her nose in distaste merely on reflex.
She walked the short blocks separating her from her goal, passing green lawns, a tire swing, and the small restaurant next to the pool where all the farmers congregated in the mornings. As soon as she stepped into the concrete building, the air felt noticeably cooler. She didn’t need to pay to use the community pool, so the lifeguard at the desk just waved her on to the changing area.
She wasn’t even sure why they needed to do that if it was free, since they only let in people from this area anyway and everyone knew everyone else. Was some roguish type going to barge in and attempt to dive in the deep end? Were they guarding from people who might hog the baby pool? It wasn’t like the place looked special from the outside. There were concrete walls, next to a concrete parking lot.
It was special, though. May thought that you could tell just by looking at the water.
The water was sparkling clean, and seemed to have the kind of tempting gleam that the ocean had. “Just jump in.” It beckoned, with enticing ripples in the water. She felt better as soon as she looked at it.
Maybe it just seemed more interesting than a regular crappy community pool because it used to be a lake. The myth of the thing was important. People had always swum in the lake, from the days when the town was merely a collection of simple wooden houses.
To hear her grandmother tell it, some 50 or so years ago a drought dried the whole thing up. The town had immediately “pooled” the money to have an actual pool built instead. It barely disrupted one summer. People just couldn’t imagine living without it.
May dropped her bag by a chair and noted the gigantic chipboard and clock by the lifeguard stand. It was, evidently, July 26, 2018. The time was exactly 11:06:24 AM. She sighed. It was gonna be a long day if she hadn’t even made it past the hottest part yet. It really was probably better that she’d left now instead of letting inertia win. She only would have been more miserable.
She didn’t feel like diving or climbing like a real human being today, so May just walked briskly to the edge of the pool, held her breath, and dropped in. The plunge was crisp and cold, like the water just kind of existed in some sort of pristine mountain stream state regardless of the weather or time of year.
It was silent. Pure silence, not even the sound of her heartbeat like you'd expect when submerged. No voices echoed above her head, warning toddlers from steep drops or cackling at a friend’s bellyflop. The water was just there- an insulating but ultimately unfeeling barrier between May and everything else outside.
She came up for air, and checked for her bag. It was gone. That made sense. She paddled for a bit, taking in the scenery. It was a bit cooler now, but maybe that was just because she wasn’t out in it.
There was a family at the side of the pool now. May watched as the father grabbed the two toddler girls up in his arms. They attached around his neck like good little koalas, while their mother had a slightly older child affixed to her back. The parents held hands and jumped in, but their entrance didn’t make a splash. They just slid right into the water. It was kind of like… if someone jumped into jello. The water gave a bit under the pressure, but gave and then almost immediately bobbed back into place.
By the time that it had, the family had of course disappeared.
She idly wondered where they were going. A glance at the clock informed her that it was July 26, 2009. It was nearly to 11:07 now. Maybe they were going to visit relatives, too, but they'd gotten a bit of a late start on it. Family trips usually started early.
The thought made her sad. She’d cooled off enough for now, anyway. So she brought her hands above her head and sunk down. She thought hard about July 26, 2018.
She emerged from the water on the right date, at least. The time seemed okay- 11:09. A little distortion today, but nothing too major. Her bag was still there and nothing seemed to be on fire, so May hefted her body onto the cement and grabbed her bag without ever taking her feet out of the water. Then she walked her hands back and slid fully into the water.
It accepted her like she belonged there, like the water she displaced didn’t really take up space but just somehow sucked itself in to make just enough room for her.
May thought about homemade ice cream and a cheery yellow-sided house. She thought about the summer that Grandpa had let her, Alicia, and their cousins ride in the scoop of his tractor. She thought about midnight snacks and good morning songs about ‘sun-shining faces’.
She exited the water in 2005.
The air was humid as well as hot and hit her face like a ton of bricks. May clambered out of the pool awkwardly, before shrugging onto one of the shaded beach chairs to drip-dry at least a little bit before going onto Grandma's nice carpeting. She clutched her bag to her rib cage, willing it to ward off the excessive heat somehow. Or at least not to disappear while she was recovering. Longer trips made her feel a little tired, for some reason.
It was a good year, at least. It would be a few years before the stroke, and the endless hospital stays. She was a good six years from the nursing home and seven or so from the funerals.
Using time- displacing pools was not an EXACT science and it was fairly normal to find yourself in the wrong year when you were going more than a summer or two. But she'd gotten it on the first try, so May just closed her eyes and let herself acclimate. She let the warm air hit her face. The heat felt a lot less torturous after a dip in the pool, even though she could still see heat waves coming off the pavement.
She probably sat like that for a good twenty minutes. The wind picked up. A sudden chill warned her of the possibility of a quick shower of rain, so May performed the quickest sit-up of her life and speed-walked out of the pool area. She winced at the horrible sound that wet shoes make and wished her feet would stop sliding around.
The cloud cover was surprisingly chilly- or maybe that was just the sharp contrast from the earlier heat. Either way, it wouldn’t last long. It would either clear and heat up again, or rain would drop out of the sky in a big thick sheet. May wanted to be inside before that happened, and she had about half an hour of walking to do.
She made it to the step-stones leading to the porch just as the downpour started. The fat raindrops made horrible pounding sounds on the tin garden shed roof and smacked down on the pavement. It splashed and spattered up onto her calves as May dove under the cover of the hydrangea-covered porch trellis.
The smell of the hydrangeas was overwhelming up close, though a bit dulled by the smell of petrichor. The combination was heady and nearly intoxicating- it was a one-two punch for nostalgia. May felt sad and happy and maybe-somehow- hungry? Weird. Or maybe that was a Pavlovian response to coming to Grandma’s house. If you weren’t hungry before, you got that way real quick.
May stared at the white screen door with trepidation. This was always the awkward part, and she had always made Alicia do it. She didn’t really have the nerve to just walk into her deceased grandparents’ house ten years ago and just expect that it would be ok. She was in elementary school now. Did her grandparents even want to spend time with a weirdly older version of her?
What do you even say?
‘Hi, Grandma, Grandpa, it’s me, your granddaughter from the future. Don’t think about this too hard, like why I’m here now, or what my cell phone is. Can I get some casserole, homemade ice cream, and maybe a dessert?’
She was getting off track and way too far into her own head.
This is why she needed Alicia. She was much better at stuff like this, she didn't think about it all too much. Maybe… May should go get her, or wait around outside the pool for her sister to show up. That would be better.
“You comin in, or not?”
Oh.
Grandpa was standing behind her.
May turned, feeling more than a bit sheepish. She managed to smile, but she felt her shoulders creeping up just a little. “I just wanted to stop by and say hello,” she said. “I didn't have anything going on today and wanted to see you. Mom and Dad are still at work, but Alicia said she'd come by sometime soon.”
Grandpa just looked amused. “Is that so? Good, good. I'm glad to see you.” He walked up behind and put his arm around her shoulders. It was warm and she could see the line where his tan abruptly cut off into pale skin. The casual touch made her feel small again. She leaned into his chest a bit as he opened the screen door and led her inside.
“Judy, May’s here!” He called, directing her into the kitchen. The house was a good twenty degrees cooler than outside. She flinched at the difference. Grandpa squeezed the arm around her back once, as if to say, 'I know.' Then he drew it back, patted her between the shoulderblades, and let her linger on the warm rug while he took off his shoes at the tile flooring.
Grandma was folding laundry on the cleaned-off kitchen table. The oven was on, as was the old radio attached to the underside of the cupboard. The familiar old commercial about raisin bread was on – ‘made with real raisin juice,’ the deep voiced man half sang.
It was easy to just relax and let the comfort wash over her. The rumble of the dryer in the background, the hum of the refrigerator behind her, sunshine spilling over the handmade fake glass ornaments she and Alicia had ‘helped’ make on the sill over the sink.
Grandma put the last lilac-colored hand towel down on the pile, and turned to face May. She sized May up in an authoritative fashion, lingering on the butterfly tattoo on May’s collarbone. She pursed her lips ever so slightly, but thankfully didn’t say a thing about it.
“You should take a shower, honey.” Grandma picked up the pile of bathroom towels. “Chlorine does nasty things to hair.”
May was led to the bathroom, and watched her grandmother put all the towels away. Grandma first set out three towels on the counter by the shower. All the towels went in the closet, in their respective piles. Hand towels by the sink were exchanged for the fluffy recently washed ones.
Grandma surveyed the bathroom quickly for anything out of place, and then turned to May again. “Did you bring some clothes, or do I need to wash yours?”
Ah. The bathing suit. It was probably fine?
“I’ll just rinse my bikini, Grandma. I did bring clothes.” May lifted her drawstring bag into her grandmother’s line of sight.
Her grandmother smiled, and it was genuine. “I knew I raised you right. Good girl. Let me know if you need anything, Grandpa and I will be right outside.”
Grandma swept outside with all the authority of a queen, no doubt off to manage her kingdom elsewhere.
May took a hot shower in air conditioning and reveled in it. It was luxurious and ridiculous, and she could never do that at home. She scrubbed from top to bottom, and was sure not to forget behind her ears. She’d done well to remember a change of clothes, and she hardly wanted to disappoint her grandmother now.
Her change of clothes felt crisp and clean, which was much easier to enjoy when she wasn’t instantly sweaty after leaving the shower. May blow-dried her hair on high, because she felt like living dangerously, and left the bathroom pristine except for her rinsed bikini drying on the shower rod.
Her grandparents were sitting in their comfy chairs in the living room when she came out. The clock read that her shower had only taken 5 minutes, so they must have barely just sat down. Grandma was hard at work on a crossword, and Grandpa was on one of the first pages of some tractor magazine.
“All clean!” She announced cheerily.
Her grandmother hummed, and Grandpa looked up from his reading.
“How would you like to go out to Vera’s for lunch, instead of eating at home?” He asked with a mischievous wink. “It’s lasagna today, and I’m itching to go. If we beg your Grandma, she might just let us.”
May could actually somehow feel her grandmother rolling her eyes, before she looked up slightly from her crossword.
“I only have enough tonight for two- we were going to eat leftovers.” Grandma clarified. “So it’s Vera’s or takeout pizza from the gas station.”
Actually, the pizza was damn good. But it was more comfortable to eat at the diner.
“Alicia should be coming at some point, too.” May restrained the urge to check her phone in her bag. It was more a crutch than anything. Why did she even bother bringing it? “Maybe in time for lunch. She was finishing a movie at a friend's house.”
Grandma hummed. “Definitely Vera’s, then. That way we’re nice and close when she gets here. I’m sure she’ll be hungry.”
They drove, making the 30 minute walk into a 3 minute affair. May sat in the backseat and relaxed into the comfort of a space where she didn't have to be an adult, listening to the classical music playing on the radio and staring out from the beige car into miles and miles of flat farmland.
The soybeans swayed in the wind, looking like beautiful lush waves rolling over the ground. The corn was much more dignified. But honestly it just made corners hard to see around and was a horrible driving hazard. Still, it was bright and green. Must have been a good year- nothing looked overly wet or dry.
Vera was wiping down tables when they arrived. She ran a very tight ship, and was probably preparing for the lunch rush anyway.
There was basically nobody in the restaurant yet, save for a group of schoolkids huddled over a tray of fried stuff. But that was basically the only place to hang out in town. Kids always came there when they had nothing better to do.
They took a booth near the front window, so they could wave Alicia in when she came.
Vera (though May would never dare call her that, she was her Grandma’s agemate, and liable to whoop her back to her senses) strode up to the table like she just happened to be in that area at the same time and was surprised that they were present.
“What are you hungry for today?” Vera asked, businesslike. She didn’t even both to get out a pen and paper. They all knew she didn’t use them.
Grandpa, as always, just ordered the special. May wasn’t even sure he remembered what they were, but he was just the sort of person who trusts the recommended specials in any restaurant. Also, it was easy to remember. Really took the guesswork out of one’s life to just show up and ask for ‘the special and a coffee, thank you ma’am’.
Grandma ordered the pizza pork- some breaded, fried pork cutlet that was then coated liberally with marinara sauce and cheese, and a coffee as well.
“And you.” Vera leveled her gaze on May, who felt vaguely like a fuzzy bunny being watched by a hawk.
Also, that wasn’t even a question.
“I’d like the cheeseburger platter, a water, and a hot chocolate, please.” May ordered as politely as possible.
Vera nodded and walked away into the kitchen.
They’d come in at about 12, but left sometime after four. It didn’t take long for everybody else to come in for lunch from the heat, which meant that Grandpa and Grandma had some wonderful social time while May merely enjoyed their company and answered softball questions about how much she'd been liking her classes. Also, Grandma was absentmindedly rubbing May’s back the entire time, which was really nice.
And she could just keep ordering hot chocolate until Vera cut her off.
After the last of their peers wandered out their door and into the midafternoon, with no sign of Alicia, they gave up.
Grandpa paid the bill despite May’s admittedly halfhearted protests, and they left.
Grandma and Grandpa parked the car close to the entrance and walked her back to the pool. They stood at the edge of the pool on the painted DEEP END letters. She heard them talking quietly while she double-checked that the bag with her phone was zipped tightly and tried to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She was always leaving things behind, probably because she never felt ready to leave.
There were so many things she wanted to say. Leaving was always so difficult, because all of them knew why she’d come back here instead of just walking down the road. But she never had any words, and they didn’t, either. There was just quiet understanding of the tenuous balance they found themselves in.
It was weird, transitioning to being old enough to realize the undercurrents that adults were aware of. Four years ago, she would never have thought about what her grandparents would have realized. She had just enjoyed the time with them at face value.
When was the first time they’d realized that they would die soon? It must have been somewhat of a shock. They were only in their mid-50’s now. They both died so young. Were they at peace with it when they went?
“Well.” May cleared her throat and pasted on a smile. “It's about time to get going. I don't want Mom and Dad to worry too much.”
Grandma leaned forward to smooth her hair. “Have a safe trip,” she said. Grandpa made a hum that sounded like agreement. “It was nice to have you come by. If you're free later this week, we were thinking about going down to Uncle John's place.”
Uncle John was still around, actually. She'd seen him at the gas station last week. But it'd be nice to see him with her grandparents. May nodded.
Wow, she felt way too melancholy today, considering that it really hadn't been a bad day. She hated goodbyes, though. It was intense to leave with someone watching you. And leaving her grandparents was always the worst. It got harder every year. It was all always too much to say, so they never said anything.
...Okay, she had to leave before she started bawling. even though Alicia hadn’t shown up yet. May heaved out a sigh. Maybe Alicia’d stayed with her friend instead, or maybe she'd just ended up somewhen else. They hadn't actually coordinated on a year- she could be a year further back or something like that.
May climbed down the ladder into the pool, paying more attention to her footing than she really needed to. She blinked away tears. It was probably the chemicals in the water.
She kept her mind clear when she pushed off of the ladder, so she didn't travel. Instead she floated in the water, treading to stay upright. Her hair was just long enough to catch the water and grow heavy.
There was a heavy sigh. Grandpa took the last steps to the edge and leaned down. He didn't have to say anything for May to get the message. She kicked her way to the edge of the pool, to the left of the ladder, and stretched her face up. He placed a whiskery kiss on her forehead and stepped back. Grandma handed her her bag, and gave her a kiss, too, along with a wobbly smile.
She didn’t want to leave. But she had to leave. This moment was untenable.
May put her hands on the pool wall and pushed back. The motion propelled her out into the more potent waters, and also helped her feel a little bit more distance. It was hard to go anywhere if you couldn't focus on the time that you wanted to go to- you have to actually want to go there. At least a little. So she closed her eyes a moment and thought about having dinner with her parents, and playing a board game before bed. Maybe they'd watch a movie. Oh, tomorrow they might be able to go do something as a family, which was pretty rare now that May was in college.
She chanced a look at her grandparents, standing sympathetic and solemn in front of a sunset. It was kind of poetic.
“Goodbye, I’ll see you later.” But only, like, five summers later at most. She got it out before her throat started to close on just how unfortunate that word choice had been. Good job, that would definitely make them think about their strong suspicion that their deaths were coming soon. It was a little weird to get repeated visits from increasingly old grandchildren in a short period of time- she and Alicia had spent half the summer here, the year that their parents had been arguing a lot.
They waved. May gave one last bright smile and she quickly dunked her head under the water before the real waterworks started.
May concentrated on coming back to 2018. She swum back up, shaking water out of her hair immediately.
The effort was wasted. She blinked, confused. Her grandparents were still at the end of the pool. Grandma frowned, tilting her head a little to the side. Grandpa took a step forward. “Having trouble, hon?” Grandpa called.
She shook her head, and dunked herself back down. 2018. She was in college. It was summer vacation, and her parents would be home soon from work. She hadn't messaged them to say she was going anywhere, because she had planned to be back before they were off, so she really needed to get going.
She popped up again. Her grandparents were still standing there. When they saw her break the water surface, they actually started to look concerned.
Her stomach lurched. Her muscles felt tense, almost to the point of soreness. Was this just a nerves problem? Why wasn’t she going back home, or at least coming up at a different time?
“One more time, dear.” Grandma called. Her voice was brighter than her facial expression implied. “Third time’s the charm. It’s ok, just think hard.”
May nodded, hard. It felt like she was trying to convince herself with the motion.
‘One more time. Just stay down for a while and think really hard.’
This time, May dove down to the very bottom of the pool. She held her breath and thought about the same things over and over again. 2018. Her friends in college. She was 21. It was difficult because the town hadn’t really changed any in more than 20 years, but there was so much outside it that was different.
She held her breath until her lungs hurt, then kicked her way to the surface.
May opened her eyes.
“Maybe… there’s something wrong.” Grandpa said quietly.
Grandma pursed her lips like she always did when she was thinking. After a moment, she waved May to come out. “No sense killing yourself,” she said matter-of-factly. “We’ll feed you dinner and get you to bed. We can try again tomorrow morning.”
Comments
Rey
Ooh - this is super interesting! I love how even though it's sort of normal for her, it's also still weird? And now freaky, since she's stuck!
Ruben Strydom
This is so exciting!!
