Knox
I sit cross-legged on a towel on a rock, Winslow snuggled up to me.
Sylvie gasps as she takes her first tentative steps into the spring. “Oh my God. This water is freezing.”
I dip my hand in. It is indeed chilly. “That’s good. Means it’s clean. Algae and bacteria don’t thrive in cold water.”
Her back is alabaster in the dim moonlight. I’m trying to be a gentleman and not look too much. My heart is in the right place even if my eyes aren’t always.
She takes a deep breath and giggles. “Okay. I gotta rip off the Band-Aid. Just go all in.”
“All in. You’ll get used to it.”
With a splash, she submerges herself up to her chin. She gives a little squeal. Her breath shudders. “Okay. Okay. Okay. Getting used to it. Okay. Brrrrrr.”
“So? How is it so far? Your first skinny-dip. Big moment in a young woman’s life.”
“I get why this is a thing. Although I think it’s called skinny-dipping because I’m burning like a thousand calories a minute in here trying to keep from slipping into hypothermia. How you doing out there?”
“Warmer than you.”
“So why are you so comfy being naked? You’re really just chilling. Your weird family?”
I sigh. “Yeah. Nudity was definitely not frowned upon. Maybe it should have been more. Just in general, there was a lot of open sexuality.”
“Like hippy free-love stuff?”
“I mean, basically. We—meaning the people so inclined—practiced what they called ‘ethical non-monogamy.’ But I overheard a few too many screaming matches to think it was being practiced ethically the whole time. I saw a lot of predatory behavior that made me question whether some of the people there had any ethics at all. Think about Dawn.”
“That sounds messy.”
“It very clearly was and is also part of the reason I left them. And why my mom ran off to join them.”
“Really?”
“She never, like, sat me down and laid it out for me. But she’d told me that she and my dad had some pretty important differences and conflicts and I kinda pieced together over the years that one of the points of disagreement was my mom getting to sleep with whoever she wanted and him not wanting her to.
So, yeah. I think that’s how we ended up joining the family. ”
“Is she a chaotic person?”
“If by that you mean she’s the sort who’ll pursue her own pleasure at the cost of the people who love her, then yeah.
Pretty chaotic. I don’t get the sense it’s entirely her fault.
She made some references to childhood abuse over the years.
But still, if you’re pursuing your path to empowerment by hurting people who love you—that ain’t great. ”
“That sucks, Knox. I’m really sorry.”
“One time, when my dad was out of town for work, I woke up in the middle of the night all alone. My mom had put me to bed and then gone out to party.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding. How old were you?”
“Seven or eight.”
“Knox. That’s unhinged; actual child neglect. It sounds like she’s a hurt person who hurts people, as they say.”
“Yeah, and it won’t surprise you when I tell you I was raised not to believe in therapists or mental health medications.
They were no match for apple cider vinegar and ayahuasca and juice cleanses.
” I hug my knees to my chest. “Remember how I said my dad died a couple years after she left with me? What I didn’t tell you was that I missed his funeral because my mom said we’d get arrested if we showed up and I’d go into foster care.
At the time, that seemed worse than being with her. Now? I don’t know.”
“I am speechless.”
“Yeah. It haunts me.”
“I can imagine. So if your grandma is your dad’s mom . . .”
“Yeah, they don’t have the best relationship. The weird thing is I bet it’s mostly my mom not even giving her a chance, just assuming my mamaw hates her for leaving my dad. But I don’t know.”
“I hope she gets the help she needs someday.”
“Me too. She seems to prefer this kind of toxic positivity—that’s a phrase I got from some fashion magazine—where she’s always talking about what a work of art in progress she is, which is how she justifies the swath she cuts through her relationships.”
Sylvie, whose back has been to me, turns to face me, only the luminescent white of her face visible above the water. “Speaking of getting help? If you ever get a chance to talk to someone, like professionally, about all this, promise me you’ll take it. No matter how you were taught.”
“I feel like I’ve just sort of learned to deal with it all as what life handed me.”
“I know but still. There’s help. You don’t have to grit your teeth and bear it. You can heal from wounds you don’t even know you have. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I say quietly, because I’m scared, but also determined to keep my promise and try Sylvie’s way.
The ways I was taught sure don’t seem to work well in many arenas—maybe this is the same.
“Hey, this is a fun first skinny-dipping conversation. I cannot believe this is what we’re talking about while we’re both fully naked. ”
“Emotionally and otherwise. We sure have gotten comfortable with each other, huh.”