Highly Illogical Behavior(44)

As he got into the pool for the first time, his family and friends looking on in silence, he felt like he could cry. And he did, but just a little, and to avoid it being a big deal, he fell face-first into the water and then came up smiling. After that, he wouldn’t stop swimming long enough for anyone to ask if he was okay. But, of course he was. Nothing worked like the water.

When Solomon’s dad cannonballed into the pool, he waded over to his son and made a big show out of trying to kiss him on the forehead. And all his mom could do was take pictures, this look in her eyes like she was documenting a miracle. Finally, after they’d been begging her for an hour, she got in the pool and joined them for Marco Polo.

“He’ll never get him,” Solomon said to his mom and Lisa. They were all sitting on the edge of the pool in the shallow end by the stairs, an area Solomon’s dad had designated as the Loser Zone. He’d caught all three of them but hadn’t even gotten close to Clark once.

He drifted slowly through the water like an alligator watching its prey, his nose above the surface just enough to breathe and the rest of him hidden underneath. He’d let Solomon’s dad get close enough to touch him and he’d answer Polo in a whisper then sort of magically float right by him to one side. He was taunting him and every time he did hold his face out of the water, he’d shoot a huge grin over toward his audience.

Solomon, Clark, and Lisa stayed in the pool long enough to see the sun set and slowly watch the moon creep up to the center of the sky. They only got out to eat, pee, or when their fingers turned so pruney they started aching. Around ten, after Solomon’s parents had gone to bed, the three of them lay side by side, Solomon in the middle, with their feet in the water and their backs resting on the cold, pebbly ground that surrounded the pool.

“If this were an indie movie, we’d start talking about the constellations,” Solomon said, looking up at the stars.

“I always thought Ursa Major would be a cool name,” Clark said. “Hi, I’m Ursa Major Robbins. Nice to meet you.”

“Ursa Major Reed, Attorney at Law,” Solomon added. “God, I missed this view.”

“It is pretty damn good, isn’t it?” Lisa said.

At midnight, they finally said good-bye. He walked them to the front door, a towel around his waist and his half-wet hair sticking up and out in all directions. Lisa kissed him on the cheek and whispered into his ear. I’m so proud of you, she said. Then Clark attacked him with a bear hug that raised him off his feet. And, despite it hurting his mildly sunburned arms, that was the best hug of his life.

Once they were gone, he walked back outside and sat by the pool. There were no lights on in the backyard except for the one that shone from the deep end and cast a whitish-blue glow all over Solomon’s skin. He dipped his feet in the water, watching ripples as they moved out in tiny little glowing waves and he closed his eyes to listen to the only sound he could hear, water lapping against the side of the pool.

He thought about sleeping out there again, curling up on a lounge chair and letting the daylight wake him. He’d missed the sun, realizing now how stupid it had been to think he could live without it. He felt a pang of guilt as he looked around the backyard, tracing the top of the wooden fence with his eyes. Maybe he could’ve been coming out here this whole time. It felt so easy now. All it took was one step and it was like it had never been off limits, like he hadn’t gone three years without touching the grass or feeling the sun on his skin or shivering in the night breeze. Is this what getting better felt like? And if all he had to do was close his eyes and take a step to make everything better, then why couldn’t he just do it? Just rip it like a Band-Aid. Why did the thought of walking out that front door still make him feel like his heart was imploding?

“This is all I need,” he said aloud into the darkness of the yard. But even he wasn’t sure he believed it anymore.

? ? ?

The next day, Solomon woke up to the sound of his grandma’s voice echoing down the hall and into his bedroom. His parents were at work, so he knew she was on the phone with a client or something, probably being intentionally loud to wake him up.

When he walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, she was sitting at the counter with her reading glasses barely on the tip of her nose and a newspaper in her hands. For a minute she didn’t see him, so she kept reading and humming to herself.

“Grandma?”

She threw the paper down, jumped up, and ran across the kitchen to hug him. She planted a big, loud kiss on the side of his face and then squeezed him again, so tight she took the wind out of his lungs.

“Okay, okay,” he said, backing up. “You’re freaking me out.”

“Look at you! You’ve already got a tan!”

“It’s a sunburn.”

“Sunburn schmunburn. You look alive, kid. Like somebody brought you back from the dead.”

“Thanks,” he said. “You bring your swimsuit? The pool’s awesome.”

“No, no. I’ve got three houses to show by five. I just came to see it for myself.”

“The pool?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve seen thousands of pools, Solomon. I want to see you out there. Go on. Start walking. I’m very busy.”

When he stepped out into the backyard, she did the hug and loud kiss thing all over again. He thanked her for the pool, but she wouldn’t hear it, choosing instead to take pictures of him standing in the grass and by the fence and sitting on the diving board. By the time she was done, his face was sore from all the smiling.