Summer's Sun

“That’s the thing about the city. You never really understand it unless you live there yourself. Most people think its about the crowds and-” A woman says that, a blonde woman smiling with a young child in her hands speaking to another woman, roughly her age but with wavy, black hair. Everyone’s heads bobbing up and down as the train races through the dark tunnel. These two women are sat to far off from me to hear what they said before the train car was filled with that regular white noise. I retreat into my headphones and get my phone out from my pocket, looking for a song to fly me away from this bland car. My left hand grasping firmly on the rail; my right thumb glides on the glass screen then I find it – the perfect song. “Next stop…” my eyes burst out my head realising exactly what that means, and I bolt off the train seconds prior to it leaving. That was too close.

A smooth, upbeat piano melody soothes my ears as I jog up a flight of stairs, feeling each footstep until I conquered the entire thing. Rounding the corner I feel a vibration in my pocket and slow down to see what it is. Mum, texting me about getting shopping on my way back in Español. I sent an indifferent “okay” in response before pocketing my phone again. With another turn and yet another flight of stairs – there was finally light at the end of this tunnel. One card tap, a series of beeps and I’m out.

I am finally here. Home. A summer’s orange light spread all other the streets, filling as many roads and alleys as it can. Reflecting off the few cars traveling from point A to point B. I pressed my finger against the button on my headphones and felt the volume boom with energy against my ears. This was my favourite song.

With each new instrument, the song built up more energy. Pianos, drums, then the bass and then those small vocals, I couldn’t help but have a smile on my face. Each step I took was intwined with the beat, my body bobbing in time. Looking around I see the sights I’m always used to seeing. All of the buildings are indeed tall but when compared to the cloud piercing skyscrapers in the inner city, the ones in my neighbourhood are fairly small, no more than four stories high at most. This pattern continues evenly on both sides of the street with a road for cars sandwiched in between, a shadow being cast by the apartments. Walking out from under the shadow, I put my hand to my head to shield the glaring light from my eyes.

A bunch of kids are always playing basketball in the park left of me. They turn round and see me, and like every day before, they clammer around me, little moths to a flame. “Hey Jesse!” one of the little ones, Rushelle calls out, wrapping her arms around my hand. “Can you play with us? Please” another one smiles at me, a boy this time, Emil. Freeing my arm, I rest my headphones on my neck, letting the beats flow into the park. I sigh and quickly rustle Emil’s curls, after that I put down my bag and phone. A line of children forms in front of the hoop and I bounce the ball in place, surveying each one of them with a smirk. They know how this goes. I know how this goes. But I’ll try not to ruin it for them. I rush forward, dribbling from one hand to another with ease. The kids start calling names and positions at each other with no real sense of authority over one another. Emil is the first to oppose me, standing out wide. Well as wide as you can for a seven-year-old. I psyche him out, dribbling passed him with a smile on my face. Two other boys, John and Omar start trying to get the ball off me but as I said, it’s the same story. I’m on the three-point line and just as I line up my shot I hear Rushelle call out something along the lines of “GET HIM!” and before I can even get a semblance on what’s happening I am tackled to the ground and buried under the wait of these small goblins. We all laugh and thrash as all of them try their hardest to keep me down. “Get off of me you monsters!” I laugh as I start to get an advantage on them, moving frantically all the while trying to ensure none of their heads encounter any concrete. Eventually I’m free and they all stand in a limbo between laughing and gasping for air. I rustle Emil’s hair and smile, explaining that as much as I’d love to stay and beat them in basketball, I must get home. A resounding “Aww” came from all of them but after I rustled Emil’s hair before he calls out as I grab my bag, “how am I supposed to get the girls if you’re always messing with my hair dude!”. I laugh as I walk off, “you gotta look more like me hermano!”

I check my phone and more texts from my mum, I did spend almost half an hour messing around in the park so no wonders she’s wondering where I am. The air now is colder, but the sun still hangs bright my neighbourhood. I absently type a reply to my mum, my attention fixed on the purple and orange hue in the sky. This is easily my favourite time of year.

Then halfway down the street from my place, I catch sight of a familiar face failing to load a familiar sofa into an unfamiliar truck. I briskly jog over and help them out, hoisting the sofa into the truck, earning a look of surprise from Marco. He’s a family friend and has been around me as long as I can remember, it’s always nice to see him. After thanking me, and sighing, I can’t help but look at the sofa and him with confusion. “Oh no… I’m just moving some furniture around chico. I’m not going anywhere just yet, eh?” he chuckles and gives my shoulder a tap, still trying to catch his breathe. “Not as young as I used to be huh?” I laugh, looking down at the floor, then back at him, shaking my head the entire time. “You were young?” I look at him quizzically and he kisses his teeth, stepping into the road in exaggerated frustration before returning to me. “YES, I was young thank you very much,” he laughs and before an idea flashes in his eyes and he continues, “do me a favour and remind your mama of that when you see her?” He shoots me a wink and I roll my eyes. I’m not offended, it is no secret Marco likes my mum but she to this day thinks he’s joking. I admire the determination, yet it’s still far more fun to mess with him. “Nah man my mum wouldn’t come near you if you were the last guy on earth abuelo,” I call out, not looking back at him while I walk off, I don’t need to in order to see the look on his face. “No one calls me abuelo!” he laughs, saying goodbye in the same breath.

Shortly after I’m here – I’m home. I unlock the main door, climb up my tight staircase and stop on the third floor at my door. I open it to find my mum in the kitchen. “Hey Ma,”

“Hey Jesse, you remembered to pick up peas and noodles like I asked you to right?”

I’m silent and she sighs, “want a takeaway instead,” I smile and nod as she finishes washing the dishes and sits on the sofa with her phone in hand. I gaze out the window to the street below, the train station, cars, parks people and just… bask in it.

That’s the thing about the city, you never really understand it unless you live there yourself.