Untitled - CSUN ScholarWorks - California State University, Northridge
Untitled - CSUN ScholarWorks - California State University, Northridge
Untitled - CSUN ScholarWorks - California State University, Northridge
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wet and windy.<br />
When we turned back to the blanket the sand stuck to<br />
our feet making them heavier and my mother took my<br />
hand to keep me warm walking over to kiss our castle<br />
good-bye. I reached down and looking hard noticed a<br />
pattern of footprints-disregard for the lines that silently<br />
said No Trespassing-that screamed inside my own head. I<br />
don't know if my mother realized the set of footprints<br />
trampled through our castle, my tears, because we left the<br />
beach, driven out by severities other than the weather, and I<br />
had to walk. Walk back to the car myself to wear the sticky<br />
sand from my feet and carry my towel soft and close to my<br />
face, missing the day.<br />
There are other things that I miss as well. The sound of<br />
the corvier, the wind, my mother driving up to some place<br />
wooden, some place not far from the beach, and I could still<br />
smell the ocean. Salt water tanks filled the walls in rows<br />
like bigger buckets my mother collected and instead of the<br />
shrimp, the lobster hovered in the corner, she ordered clam<br />
chowder served hot in a bread bowl to share. In my mother's<br />
voice, she looked like this shrimp house, this dump of a<br />
cafe just wasn't enough, that the greasy patty melt smell<br />
was overbearing, perfuming the ocean she came here for<br />
with a stench reminding her that her green eyes were only a<br />
reflection of something sweet to me, only a way of looking<br />
at me while she thought out loud "North to one of the<br />
Dakotas or maybe Minnesota."<br />
Minnesota is my favorite state, partly because I have<br />
never been there. I've been to all the others or at least I<br />
know people who grew up on cheese farms in Wisconsin<br />
and people who still do live in Indiana, who know everyone<br />
in their small town and K-mart makes them smile. K-mart<br />
was never enough for my mother.<br />
My mother believed in things like the turquoise ring<br />
she kissed before putting it on her finger everyday for<br />
fifteen years, before setting it in my hand and running to<br />
the rest room like it wasn't ok to have this moment, "At<br />
least not here, not around here," she said and I received<br />
restaurant tapioca, the can, the lid non existent, whipped<br />
cream on the top and I wanted to like it, it tasted good,<br />
wanted to switch back to chocolate.<br />
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