I stand up, rest against the cement wall. Darkness coats me, but Gloria said I need to stay awake. Everything is rocking, and I can feel my body swinging back and forth. Nothing under my feet. And then I’m a little boy in the playground. The memory floats in front of me in full color. I’m seated on a slab of wood and Gloria is pushing me so hard, the ropes buckle each time she shoves my back. I feel her fingertips jabbing into my spine. When I cry out for her to stop, I’m swinging too high, she yells, “You’re having fun! This is fun!” Then the ropes slip from my hands and I speed through the air, slam into the ground. A guttural belch from my lungs.

She walks over to where I’ve fallen and kneels down. I wait for her to help me, but instead, she stares at me as though she’s confused. I grab at her dress with both hands and through my tears, I say, “You’re my mommy!” I don’t know why those words rush out of my mouth. It’s a stupid thing to say. Her head goes back, like she’s stunned. She speaks in a low voice. “No, I’m not. I’m a stranger.”

“You’re my mommy!”

She tugs her dress from my grip. “I’m not. I’m a stranger.”

The grin will come any second, I tell myself. Any second. But it doesn’t.

My tears stop, and sickness fills my chest. “Mom?”

“I’m not your mom,” she whispers right in my ear. I heard her slowly inhale. “You. Don’t. Know. Me.”

“I do.”

“How?” She tilts her head and smiles.

“I—I just do.”

“Well you’re wrong.” Her voice is different. Low and growling. She stares at me. “I’ve never met you before. You weird little thing. I don’t have the faintest clue who you are.”

“But.”

She stands up and takes a step back. I look down at my feet. Just beyond my toes there might as well be a crevice a mile deep. Fear floods me. Cold and prickly, it swirls straight down through my core. Metal blades through that most tender part of me.

My shoulders are shaking, and when my tears turn to sobs, the look on her face shifts. Leaning close to me, her eyes wide, mouth slightly open, corners curled up. She is curious, and she is delighted.

—

Only a game. A dumb game. Playing like she does. Acting like I’m not even there.

Why did I remember that?

I should have just laughed.

It’s going to be okay. She isn’t angry anymore. I saw her crying on TV.

“All we want is to have you home.”

Home.

Gloria is like that. She always turns things around. She’s never made me disappear forever.

MAISY