Heat

She was swimming in sweat. She was standing under a large shaded tree, wearing navy light cotton shorts with a white tank top, and fanning herself furiously with a discarded paper plate. And yet, she was damp from the roots of her red hair to the little cracks between her toes. She hated the way they slipped around in her sandals any time her weight shifted. She was barely aware of her jaw jutting out, the way Peter said it did when she was less-than-amused, but she was acutely aware of the pain in her lower back. It was miserable standing for so long. Why did all of the seating have to be directly under that flaming devil’s ball? All of those chumps looked like bacon slowly getting crisp; the various shades of red and brown skin were clearly growing angrier the longer they stayed in their seats. Although, it wasn’t much better looking like a melted popsicle under this tree. At least they were able to sit. She looked down at her feet, half expecting to see a puddle of her life’s moisture pooling beneath her, but instead saw only little tufts of grass peeking up through the sandy dirt. She sighed and turned her attention back to the game. How long did a volleyball match even take? The small handful of spectators suddenly shouted in a mixture of disappointment and elation. Why did they have to be so loud? It’s just a game, for heaven’s sake. There was Peter, cheering with the rest of them, his small dark ponytail slightly bounding from all of his excitement. Josie must have done something impressive. Nothing got Peter quite as worked up as watching one of his sisters do something impressive. In fact, his attachment to them was one of the first things that drew Anna to him. Her brother had never cared much about her despite her endless attempts to impress him or, at the very least, to endear herself to him. It turned out that the thirteen year age gap was pretty difficult for him to look past. To Michael, Anna would always be the annoying little brat who walked in on him fooling around with his high school girlfriend’s best friend. It was obviously an accident--why would she want to see that? Yuck--but he refused to believe her, and she may as well have not existed after that incident. But Peter was never harsh or even the slightest bit annoyed with his sisters. They could do no wrong. Even now, despite being married to Anna and despite three out of his four sisters being married to genuinely good men, he still insisted that he attend every single event where there was any chance his support would be welcome.* Sure enough, Josie grinned at Peter and flashed him their “secret” hand sign before squaring up with the net and getting in position to serve. Josie’s husband, Alex, was furrowing his brow as he took in the exchange. Anna wasn’t all that surprised to realize her features were mirroring the same furrows. This was the issue. Well, it was one of the issues. There was something off about Peter’s connection to the women in his family. At the very least, he was confused as to what his relational priorities ought to be. It was that very thing that brought them to this beach, which was mostly vacant aside from the few gathered spectators, in 94℉ heat. And the most upsetting part, to Anna at least, is that he knows how much she despises being too warm. Mmmmh. A groan escaped from Anna as she dropped her makeshift fan and massaged the sudden pain in her hands. She must have been gripping that plate more intensely than she realized. Of course, with the plate lying motionless on the ground, she was suddenly accosted by the thick, suffocating heat. Her head felt fuzzy from the sheer oppressiveness of it. How was Josie jumping around in the direct sunlight seemingly unaffected? It wasn’t fair. Anna felt the familiar shift of her stomach into nausea as she was hit, once again, with the sense that she would never live up to Josie and the others in Peter’s mind. She bent down to massage her calves as they also began seizing into painful cramps. Once again, her mind went to how unfair it was that she was forced to stand while everyone else had chairs, especially since the beach was so unstable. It kept shifting and rocking as the waves crashed in the distance. Her quick motion to rub out the pain in her legs tipped her balance, and she realized she was no longer upright. Fine. I’ll sit. She couldn’t remember why she hadn’t done that in the first place, considering the rocking sand. Anna went to pick up the dormant fan but found her head was suddenly shooting with horrible pain. She grabbed it hard, hoping the pressure would squeeze out the misery. But the pain brought with it consuming fatigue, and she found that she did not even have the energy to hold up her body, let alone her arms. Yes. It was good to lay there and be rocked by the rolling ground beneath her. She loved being on boats. They were so peaceful in their gentle lull. She could almost drift into sleep if it weren’t for the excruciating pain. It was everywhere now--her hands, her legs, her feet, her head, her stomach. She could see white all around her drifting through the leaves of the trees. It was so much white. Snow! On a boat! How lovely, were her last thoughts as she faded into darkness.

*Peter’s fourth sister was determined to walk to the beat of her own drum. She had sold most of her belongings, bought a van, and was somewhere in Nevada last they heard. He had released himself from the role of “protective older brother” only after much pleading from Anna, for the sake of his sanity.