Page 87 of Phoenix

“Oh my God, Case...”

He holds up a hand. “Let me get this all out.”

“Okay.” I sit back and listen.

“It was cold, winter time, too cold to be in the pool, so lots of people had the plastic covers over their pools. Grayson and I were playing outside, like we always did, and we ended up in his neighbor’s backyard. I thought it was a fun idea to try to walk on the cover.”

I am gripping the glass in both hands now, feeling the condensation form under my fingers, my heart racing as the story continues.

“Grayson didn’t want to do it. He didn’t want to get in trouble, but I always had to show him up. I made it about halfway across before the cover tore and I fell through.”

I can see his hands are starting to shake. He’s really struggling to talk about this.

“I could swim, hell, I used to be in the water all the time as a kid, but with the cover over me, I got confused. I panicked. I fought and fought and tried to swim up, but all I could feel was plastic. I can’t explain that kind of fear, Nora, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my life. There was a moment I just decided I was going to die. Imagine that. Nine years old, resigned to the fact, it was your last moment on this Earth.”

I can feel a tightness forming in my throat, tears pooling in my eyes at the thought of a child experiencing that kind of fear. “I can’t imagine it.”

“The last thing I remember was everything going black and the burning in my lungs. I woke up in the ambulance, terrified, in tears, and asking for my mom.” He pauses for a breath and to take another drink. “Ever since that day, I’ve been deathly afraid of pools—and large areas of open water—but mostly pools. I’ve never been able to push that fear aside.”

“So today, when I tried to pull you in, you freaked out because you were terrified,” I say for him.

“Exactly. Phoenix, I’m not an angry person. I don’t snap like that. I don’t raise my voice, unless I have to at work, and I’d certainly never do that to you. Being near the water sent my anxiety soaring and then you wanted me to go in. I just...panicked.”

“Case, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know...”

He holds up a hand to stop me. “You have no reason to apologize. How could you have known? It’s not normal for a grown man to lose his shit over going into a pool.”

“I’m still sorry. I’m sorry that today happened and I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s a battle even to this day...obviously.” He smiles a bit.

Being so vulnerable with me and telling me the truth had to have been difficult for him, even I can acknowledge that. He's struggling every day and I shined a light on it this afternoon.

I scared him.

I want to hold him. I need to hold him.

I get up from my seat across from him and walk over, kneeling on the floor at his feet, taking his hand in mine.

He shared with me—so I will share with him.

“You asked me once if the tattoo on my wrist was a tribute to my parents. I told you yes and left it at that, and it is true. It is a tribute to them.

“But their story still keeps me awake at night and causes so much fear and resentment deep in my soul.”

“You don’t have to talk about this. Not if you don’t want to.” He reaches over and pushes a tear that had escaped my eyes from my cheek.

“I want to. I want to share it with you like you did me.”

“Okay.”

I take a breath.

“When I was ten and my brother, Marco, was fourteen, we lived in a small apartment complex in Southern California. My father was a police officer. My mother was a nurse. We were literally the textbook perfect family. Dinners around the table, family game night, family vacations. The whole nine. We were happy and then the fire happened.”

“Fuck…” I hear him say, and I feel him squeeze my hand.

“It started as a small brush fire in a wooded area behind the apartment building. Between the winds and the drought we were in the middle of, it spread quickly, faster than anyone could have predicted. It engulfed our building in minutes. Sometimes, I can still feel the heat on my skin and the smell of the smoke in my nose.”

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