Summer after 8th grade year, something happened…
That’s why we don’t like the heat where I’m from. Praying the groundhog always sees his shadow so we stave off sunny days just a bit longer. Everybody knows what happens when God brings that heat so if it’s all the same to you, we’ll take the winter.
I still remember the first time I felt the heat. First time I understood what happens when it gets that hot, the sticky-suffocating-can’t-breathe kind of heat. It came in that sudden, shocking but not surprising kind of way. After a while we were all pretty numb from the heat. Who knew numbness still hurt? Maybe we thought it would cool down as we got older. Maybe we knew it wouldn’t. Maybe we were just hoping the groundhog was confused and the heat wasn’t never coming back. We don’t like the heat where I’m from. Mostly ’cause the heat means summer and we don’t like summer where I’m from. Mostly ’cause of what started happening that one summer. Even spring likes to show up with premature tears for the pain the heat will bring. And winter is just a reminder of spring’s premonition so we really just got three seasons– almost summer, summer and almost summer again. Hard living when you don’t like the heat. And we don’t like the heat where I’m from. Mostly ’cause of what happened that one summer. See, summer after 8th grade year, the boys all started disappearing. And they been disappearing every almost summer, summer and almost summer again since…