My heart beats.

I feel the faded bruise on my side throb twice,

one sharp pain and then a low, blunt beat.

Only Child

I want to be excited to see her.

I missed my friend.

She’s only

a few feet away

on her sleeping mat,

and we haven’t even

talked about how she

got out here

before us.

It’s okay, I think.

I’m used to being alone,

an only child,

left to myself.

I’m good at it.

At P.S. 6,

the teachers always told

my parents that I was

excellent at dealing

with teasing from other kids.

Maybe I can be tough.

Boogie Boarding

When the sun comes up,

I sit outside near Melinda.

Lisa calls out from the main room,

Wanna go boogie boarding?

Sure. Fine.

We get the boards,

shake off the old sand.

Mine is deep blue with

a rainbow swirl on the back,

and hers is also blue with a pink sheen.

The leashes spread and fray,

too much sun, too much salt.

It’s early enough,

quiet, and the sculptures

in the garden watch us open the gate

and slip through the fence.

What do you think the surf will be like? she asks.

It will probably suck, I answer.

She sighs at me.

I look over at her.

Her hair is messed up in the back.

I love how she never wears any makeup.

We should try to ride the waves together.

Remember how we did it a few times ago?

One-two-three gooo! And then I always beat you to shore.

She’s trying so hard.

I don’t say anything,

stare straight ahead.

I feel her shoulder bump into my shoulder.

Stop it, I say. She looks at me.

How long are you gonna act like this?

She taps my boogie board with her foot.

Do you want to talk about it?

About what? I lash out at her.

That you didn’t even call me?

Not once?

She leaves it there,

knows better.

We get to the beach.

There’s no one in the water.

Everyone stands in the sand,

and the lifeguards go up and down

the beach with megaphones,

holding boards

with a picture of a shark.

A great white was seen off the coast

early in the morning.

We pass the lifeguard tower,

stand there with our boards dug in

and our feet curling deep

into the warmth of the sand.

A Drive

Do you want to go for a drive?

Mom asks.

Just you and me.

I don’t, but I go anyway.

We drive

Shoreline Highway

toward Bolinas,

pass Seadrift

near the Audubon Canyon Ranch.

Water is coming.

Deep saltwater rivers

flow into the lagoon

where mudflats disappear

into clear glass.

Coots and cormorants

sweep from the sky,

drop into the water

come back with beaks full of bluegill.

I see Kent Island,

where the mother seals

are shiny duffel bags

on the beach.

Their pups

scoot into the water,