Swim Alone

He clings to her while other boys play Marco Polo. A year of lessons, this is what she gets? She wants to lie in the sun. Enough, she says, loosens her arms, releases him. The boy winces at light bouncing off water. He grasps at her, where he thinks she is, but feels blind. He decides to drown for his mother. Just this morning he breathed only when she breathed, laughed when she laughed. Before he goes under he hears one boy catch another:My eyes were closed! His cries, underwater, make bubbles that rise like loose balloons. He watches his mother’s legs move away. Out of breath, he swims toward empty blue.