That Me

Right before the lines went dead,

I heard my voice on the other end.

But it wasn't this me

it was another me

from 1977, summer

August to be specific

blazing hot day on the Jersey shore

even the ocean sizzled

roiling up onto the beach

crashing around my ankles

toes and heels buried as deep as I could get them into the sand

tiny pale pink bikini on my ten year old body

the strap at the back of my neck tied too tightly

but having too much fun to attempt a better fit

ten year old hands

brown over the long summer

splashing my brother

who chose to wail and threaten

instead of just admitting he was having fun too

(kids!)

my hair in a disarray that can only be achieved

by arid Atlantic breezes and too many days

spent in the city pool

a vast chlorine riviera

ten year old eyes squinting in the noon sun

those bright spears of reflected light

off the ocean's surface

an acceptable torture

just another part of summer in New Jersey

and hearing my name

I turned around

just in time to see my father

stretch out on his blanket

dark wavy hair glossy and thick

arms crossed behind his head

as peaceful as I would ever see him again

and in my ten year old mind

I thought,

"My dad is so cool".

That is the voice I heard before the lines went dead.

That me.

And it said

"This is the best day ever".

And it was too.