The Summer Story

She spent the summer reading back issues of Granta in an Adirondack chair in the front yard under the trees and bleaching random sections of her hair, only to end up coloring it a shade called Front Row. Sometimes, she could see the air because the wildfire smoke would waft in from the east or the north or south. The plums from the backyard tree were all scattered on the counter, they were all over the yard and some had even made it onto the street in front of the house. One was rotting by the window and she took a photo of it with her Pentax.

The anxiety was constant: a low, loud hum that would wake up inside her. Sometimes the only trick to extinguish it was to take half a Klonopin (she'd squirreled them away into a Sorel shoebox last year) or a glass of wine. It wouldn't matter soon anyway, she was to check into "The Robert F. Kennedy Jr. Wellness Camp sponsored by Amazon" tomorrow morning at 6:13am. Packing needed to be done and it had not yet started. 

A list of items allowed along with the form detailing her biometrics, current medications, diet, and "mental health status" was on the bedroom dresser. She was five feet seven inches tall and thin with blond hair and blue eyes which was listed as "Excellent" on current birth certificates, but she'd failed her "mental health fitness test" at her last doctor's visit upon which the doctor was obligated to report to the CDC for further investigation. This is when the anxiety had started, or maybe it was four years prior. She wasn't really sure. 

She took out her Marc Jacobs canvas travel bag and started to read the few things she was allowed to pack which she'd need for a "possible indeterminate amount of time". All the items had to be American made. This meant her shampoo (Canadian), foundation (also Canadian), Dr. Bronner's lavender bar soap (too liberal), tampons (tooooo, Swedish?), lipstick (too French) were absolutely not allowed. Looking around, she found a canister of Clorox wipes, some Cheez Wiz and Revlon Super Lustrous Lipstick in the color Show Off with a pair of Levi's and three white men's Hanes t-shirts and decided that was good enough. Her glass of cabernet sat untouched on the nightstand. She rubbed her left ankle were it was slightly bruised from the ankle monitor, the Amazon logo slightly worn away. 

It was never made clear what the "campers" would be doing during they stay. What they would eat. What they would see. 

She did not sleep that night. 

The next morning the haze covered the sunrise making it blue and orange and pink all at once. She swung herself out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen to have one cup of Fidalgo Organic Breakfast Coffee and a slice of toast. Everything was quiet except for the noise. She brushed her teeth and threw on another pair of Levi's that were in the back of the closet along with a white Gap t-shirt. No makeup and glassy-eyed. Standing in the kitchen, the whir of the electric Amazon van could be heard coming around the corner. Glancing back, she took one last glimpse of the family photo taped to the fridge. Her husband, son, and herself just two years before. It had been a year since she'd seen them, their whereabouts unknown. 

There was a knock at the door and she grabbed her bag and phone to follow the masked man out to the van. Her phone was taken, wiped clean, and placed into a large black duffel bag and locked with the other phones. She looked up and saw there were four other women in the van, various ages. No one said anything. The man shut the door and stomped to the driver's door, a plum crushed under his black boot. 

As the van drove away, she could smell the plum, it's tartness and sweetness. 

Summer was over.