Drowning Lessons
It was a summer of the seventeen-year cicadas. They clawed their way up from deep underground and climbed into the trees. Now, their high whine filled the air from dawn until dusk. Almost every tree in French Lick, Indiana hummed like a high voltage line; buzzed like an overheated transformer about to explode.
Alice stood next to her mother in the kitchen of her mother’s house watching Orin squat next to Emma. Alice turned her head and looked out the big window which framed the farmhouse sink and stared out towards the backyard and the big oak, loaded with singing cicadas.
It was next to this same oak that Earl, her mother’s second husband, had made Alice sit while he shook some cicadas from a branch and brought one over to her, still buzzing, in his hand. It was her eighth birthday and the day after he had come into her room at night, pulled off her pink nightgown and hurt her. She stared at the long, brown bug with lace wings. She tried not to look at Earl.
“Watch this,” he said. He gently squeezed the thorax of the cicada. Alice stared at its black eyes. The cicada slowly stopped vibrating its wings. Its song became a low hum, then it was silent, but alive, in Earl’s calloused hand. “If you touch them just right, they will stay quiet,” Earl whispered, “but if you squeeze too hard, they will die.” Earl quickly closed his thumb and index finger and crushed the Cicada’s head. Its’ wings buzzed against its body, then were still. “Our special time together is our secret. We don’t need to tell your mom or anyone do we sweetie?” He put his hand under Alice’s chin and forced her to look up at him. “Do we?”
Alice shook her head. Tears rolled down her small cheeks. Her hands were clenched so tight that her fingers felt numb.
Emma sat on the hardwood floor about halfway down the hallway from the kitchen to the two bedrooms of the ranch style house. She wore a blue one-piece swimming suit with pictures of smiling whales. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Emma was five years old.
Family photographs lined one wall of the hallway. Alice remembered how they would rotate with each new husband. She and her mother were the only constants. Orin was her mother’s fourth husband.
“No kiss, no pool.” Orin said. His right hand was on Emma’s back. His left hand held a red plastic cup imprinted with the logo of the University of Indiana. The cup was full of ice cubes and Coors beer. Orin wore thick glasses and had gray hair with traces of red from another time. He had not shaved in two days. Emma stared silently at the floor.
He smells like smoke and rotten stuff. I don’t want a kiss. I just want to swim. Mommy will come soon. I wish daddy was here. Those chickadada bugs are too loud. I just really want to swim.
“Good god its hot,” Alice said, “and the Cicadas are so loud.” She watched heat rise in shimmering waves from the pavers in the back yard next to the barbeque grill. “We should get going to the pool before we boil alive”
“Lordy, what’s wrong with your child?” her mother said. She pointed towards Emma and walked down the hallway toward Orin. Alice leaned back against the sink and watched from the kitchen. The hum of the refrigerator pulsed in time with the Cicadas outside.
There had been some blood. Her mother said it was just her woman time when she cleaned up Alice’s room. Alice did not get her first actual period until five years later when she was 13. She wondered why they suddenly started coming every month. Earl had been coming to her room at night two or three times a month for five years. Each time was the same. A soft knock. A fat shadow framed in the door. “Relax. Relax,” he’d say. “Stop crying god damnit!” Then he would slap her across the face. After she started her period, he stopped coming to her.
Here comes Grandma, she’ll help me I Know. I know she will. I just really want to swim.
“What’s wrong sweet pea?” Grandma said.
“I just want to swim,” Emma said. She sat still and stared at the floor. “I really want to swim.”
“She won’t give her old Grandpa even a little kiss.” Orin said. He patted Emma’s back. Emma shook her head.
When Alice turned 18, she told her mother about Earl. Her mother sobbed and sobbed and said she didn’t know.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said. “How could I know if you don’t tell?” She put her arms around Alice and held her close. “I’m so sorry my sweet pea.” Her mother’s flowered perfume made Alice hold her breath. “We don’t need no cops around though,” her mother said. “Earl’s long gone to Texas anyhow.”
“Oh come on now hun, let’s turn that frown upside down. Your grandpa’s just having fun. You know that he would never hurt you none,” Grandma said. Emma looked up at her grandma and down the hallway, where she saw her mommy standing in the kitchen, leaning against the sink, and running her hands through her hair.
Mommy’s gonna come get me. I know she will. I know she will, and we’ll go swim.
“Just a little kiss,” Grandma said, “just a little peck on the cheek. Don’t make Grandpa sad. After we swim, we’ll get some sweets.”
I really want to swim. And I love ice cream. Mommy come! Grandpa stinks. His hands are cold. I just really want to swim.
“Maybe ice cream?” Emma said.
“Two scoops for my sweet pea.” Grandma smiled and lifted Emma’s chin. “Just a little kiss. He loves you so you know.”
Emma turned to kiss Orin’s cheek, but he spun her hips and kissed her on the lips.
“That’s what a good girl does,” he said. “A proper kiss is always smack on the lips.” He picked Emma up and carried her down the hall towards the garage.
Emma stared over Orin’s left shoulder towards Janet.
“Let’s go swim,” Orin said.
Alice saw Orin kiss her daughter on the lips and pick her up. She saw her mother smile.
“Come on Janet.” Her mother waved and smiled. “Let’s go swim!” Orin had already disappeared into the garage with Emma.
Alice’s feet were rooted to the kitchen floor. Everything was noise. She her could hear blood pounding in her ears. She could not breathe. Those god damn bugs crawling everywhere. She fell to her knees. The cicadas buzzed in the hot summer air.
