After that we went back to being quiet. I waited to see if anyone wanted me to read more of my essay. No one did, so I pressed my cheek to the glass too.
Despite so many difficult moments on that trip south, there were times when my sister put away the Bible and nobody argued. We stopped at South of the Border, where my father bought us sparklers and people didn’t stare at our family as much as they did in Dundalk. At the motel where we spent a night to break up the drive, we ate Kentucky Fried Chicken in our beds while watching black-and-white movies on the small TV. When we crossed the state line into Florida, we pulled into the Welcome Center, where my father asked a woman to snap our picture in front of palm trees. Even though the wind gusted and the sky grew dark too early, we wore the sunglasses my mother picked up at a pharmacy especially for the trip. In the remaining hours of the drive, however, the wind continued to gust and the sky grew darker still. One by one, we pulled off those glasses and tucked them away.
At 3:25 in the afternoon, my father turned the Datsun into the hotel parking lot. No one would have guessed the time since things were dark as dusk. After we checked into our room on the second floor, I didn’t bother unpacking my bathing suit. Instead, I lingered by the window, staring out at the raindrops splashing against the surface of the pool. Somewhere back in Georgia, my father had confiscated Rose’s bible, but she wasted no time finding another in the nightstand and stretching out on one of the beds to comb through the pages. My mother clicked on the clock radio and spun the dial until she found a meteorologist who made the same prediction as the others we had listened to in the car: heavy wind, heavy rain for the next two days.
“Here we go,” Rose said, not caring about the weather. “A gem from Leviticus, which is quickly becoming my favorite source of all things ridiculous. ‘The Lord said to Moses and Aaron, Speak to the Israelites and say to them: When any man has a bodily discharge, the discharge is unclean. Whether it continues flowing from his body or is blocked, it will make him unclean. This is how his discharge will bring about uncleanness’ . . .”
“Tell you what, tadpole,” my father said, ignoring her and putting a hand on my shoulder. “I’ve been looking forward to a swim too. Let’s do it.”
“What about the rain?”
“We’re going to get wet anyway. What’s the difference?”
Across the room, Rose kept at it. “‘Any bed the man with a discharge lies on will be unclean, and anything he sits on will be unclean. Anyone who touches his bed must wash his clothes and bathe with water, and he will be unclean till evening . . .’ ”
How desperate must my father have been for a break from her if he was willing to go swimming with me in the middle of a storm? But what did his reasons matter? I ran and got my bathing suit. When my mother realized what we were planning, she put up a fuss. Once my father promised to yank us from the water at the slightest threat of lightning, she gave in and even watched from the window, waving as we circled the pool before holding hands and jumping into the deep end.
With the wind blowing through the palm trees and rain splattering against our heads, I had the feeling we’d been tossed overboard from a ship during a storm. I flipped onto my back and kicked my way around the pool, squinting against the rain. In the shallow end, my father found a water jet and pressed his back to it. I watched him gaze up at the sky. More to himself than to me, he said, “I hope the weather doesn’t scare away the crowds.”
“It won’t,” I told him, though what did I know?
He looked across the rippling water at me. Without glasses, and with rain dripping down his face, he looked younger, less serious. It made me think of years before when he and my mother would take us swimming at a pond in Colbert Township near Dundalk. Back then, they used to swim with us too, though we never went there anymore. “Listen, tadpole,” he said. “Your mom and I agreed that you and your sister are going to wait in what they call the greenroom during our talk this evening.”
I said nothing, kicking my feet and picturing a room with green walls and a green carpet, maybe a green ceiling too.
“They’ll have lots of food for you both.”
Green M&M’s. Green Jelly Beans. Green grapes and kiwis and limes.
“You can read or play a game,” he said.
“Or listen to weird bible passages.”
He smiled, water dripping from his chin and from the cross nestled in his wet chest hair. “Or listen to weird bible passages. Anyway, we figured you’d prefer that to sitting in the audience.”
I dipped beneath the water, swam closer before emerging. “Sounds good to me.”
“Sylvie, you know how your mother gets her feelings sometimes?”
I did know. Everyone in our family knew. “Yes. Why?”
“Well, she keeps saying that she has an unsettled feeling about tonight. My guess is that she’s worried about Rose.”