I
" Julian, are you coming to the creek or what?”
Francis calls. The sound of chirping cicadas and the movement of the fresh green leaves lingering in the new air on the first day of summer. Although I am trying to be in the moment of freedom and the absence of school there is still the impending fear of the return of routine. I sway on the balcony as I overlook the family estate. The cypress trees and lavender bushes brush together creating a whirlpool of white noise, the heat adding to the blanket of sleep that will send me to my dreams if I don’t start to move my blood again. I snap myself out of my daze and step to my bed, grabbing my still damp swimming trunks and quickly change. Though Nonna has opened all the doors and windows, the house provides cool refuge to the heat that permeates the atmosphere. I open the screen door to the porch and barefoot run through the unmown grass to where she waits by our bicycles. The morning sun is still peeping through the hillside’s bramble of natural sage and rosemary.
" I was just gonna leave without you, andiamo!”
“Alright already I’m here aren’t I.”
What I lack in enthusiasm, Francis makes up for and extra. She is the sister of my close friend Marko. He’s away for the summer, studying business abroad in New York. I miss him but we’re close enough where the monthly letter is enough to know that we are still close. As I pedal down the dirt road, dust billows behind us tickling our noses and coating our toes, moist from the dew of the lawn. We ride in silence as the country road turns to a forest trail that will eventually lead us to the swimming hole dug out by the town men years ago in order to collect clay for construction of a new church. It filled with water when they hit a spring, drawing kids to it during the spring and fall when the weather was still intense but their parents hadn’t sent them away for the summer. I’m living with my grandmother for the unforeseen future. If I were really honest with myself I don’t want to go back to my parents. They’re sweet but they are constantly concerned with what I’m doing and who I’m with until I’m so overwhelmed that I begin to suffocate. It comes on suddenly, sometimes when I’m thinking about something in particular or nothing at all. The doctors said I needed a vacation away from the city, which I’m not opposed to, although I will miss my friends back in Rome.
When we finally reach the grove in which the natural oasis of reflective water, not even caring enough to fully halt our bikes before getting off, we swing our legs to one side and jog along the silty shore, peeling our clothes off until nothing but my swimming trunks and her under clothes remain. There’s no one here yet. I plunge into the shallow water, knowing that it is far more painful to wade slowly as Francis does. The depth drops off quickly and if you aren’t careful or sure of where you’re stepping you could find yourself submerged. I’m not a local like her or Marko but I am still steady with my steps. Right before the drop occurs I dive under, opening my eyes to see the green-blue light show created by the shadows of the leaves, sun and ripples my splash. The busyness of the world above is muffled. I sink as I breathe out all the air in my lungs. I stand looking up as my toes touch the slimy soft bottom of the swimming hole. I can only see a blur but I know I’m shaded by almost complete darkness. It’s colder near the bottom and I can feel absolute stillness as all the movement of the upper water is stunted and absorbed by the water. My lungs beg me to breathe and I begin to feel my senses slipping away before I push myself upwards, breaking the surface. The water now feels warm in comparison to the depths. I catch my breath when I’m choking on water as Francis bombards me with splashes of water.
“ Oh you want to go there? You’ll be sorry you ever messed with me!” I joke as I spit out the water that I didn’t inhale. Francis squeals as I sprinkle her, still only up to her knees as she slowly adjusts to the temperature.
“Cazzo! That’s cold!”
We swim for hours, occasionally taking breaks to soak in the warmth so that we don’t catch a cold that would ruin the rest of the summer. Lying on the warm soil, my stomach growls, shaking my entire abdomen and opening Fancis’s eyes wide in amusement. I’m hungry but also so drawn to sleep that I wait a few moments more before standing to stretch my body. I’m tall, at least taller than Francis which says something, and although I’m thin, my muscles are becoming more defined with age. I feel like a rubber band and slightly shake as my exhausted body resumes my natural stance.
“Come Francis, let’s head back. Ho fame.”
Her face, easily mistaken to be sleeping, scrunches up as she groans, “Just a few more minutes please.” With more prompting she finally grunts herself awake, wandering in a crooked line to the place we piled our bikes. We head home leisurely in no rush to be anywhere. I gaze at the path ahead of me, zoning out, a luxury I rarely get to experience, either by my mother’s reminders that idle hands cause trouble or the fact that I’m always writing and reading for my studies.
We ride into town and instead of taking the turn to go home we decide to go to the cafe and get some gelado. As we park our bikes out front, I see them. They are a group of 5 or so ragazzi around my age or older. They laugh and giggle while the one in the center turns a bright watermelon pink, wiping melting gelato from the corners of her mouth. I wish to join them but I wouldn’t even know how to approach them. They are radiant and casual all together in a seemingly contradicting combination. A deep sadness enters my body and suddenly, hungry as I am, I don’t want to be here any longer and would rather just go home and lay by myself. Out of the corner of my eye I notice Francis walking up to them and the world fades out when they accept her and she joins in the laughter. They seem deeply interested and look up at her in intrigue, bending over the table to get closer to her. She looks to me, waving me over. As casually as possible, I walk over trying not to let the eyes on me cause a fumble or heat to rush to my cheeks.
