As I climb up the ladder I tell myself it’s okay if I don’t do well. I’ll go back to the way things were. But I realize now I don’t want to go back. I want something new and—like Ed says—something of my own.

I raise my arms above my head, then bend at the waist, aiming toward the water. I lean forward and without hesitating I jump and dive in. I don’t even think about the coach or Tata watching. I let the magic of the motion happen and when I get out of the water, the coach says, “Can you do that again?”

Repeat, Please

Repeat, Please

Again and again, I dive for the coach. Each time I finish, he nods and says, “Nice. Once more, please.”

Finally he hands me a towel. “Isabel, we’ll try to let you know tonight. Can I get your phone number?”

Tata rattles off the number before I can answer. His voice shakes, and I wonder if I’ve embarrassed him. It seems like I dived a lot better that day at the base pool.

On the way home, Tata tells me, “Your great-uncle was an excellent diver. Only, he dove off some of the cliffs around the island. People gathered in big crowds to see him. He was really something.”

“Oh,” I say, wishing Auntie had brought me to the audition. I knew I’d be a big disappointment to him.

Tata stares straight ahead at the road and smiles. “You must have gotten your talent from him.”

Boiling Water

Boiling Water

“Waiting for the phone to ring is like waiting for a pot of water to boil,” Auntie tells me.

“I’m not waiting. I’m reading.”

“You should go with us.”

How do I tell Auntie that I won’t hear Father David say Mass? My mind will be on the call.

“The coach may not be phoning you because he’s at Mass.”

“Good-bye, Auntie.”

She leaves with Olivia and Tata, too. My father hasn’t been to church since my mother’s funeral. Maybe he goes because he doesn’t want to make me nervous. After the door shuts, Tata opens it and sticks his head in. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” He winks before closing the door.

His words warm me, but now I want to make the diving team more than anything. I want to make it for me and for my family.

The words in my book blur together and I read the same page eight times. I turn on the TV, but there’s nothing worth watching. I think of calling Teresita, but she’ll be at Mass. And Mary Kelly will be at the base chapel. Besides, I don’t want to hear any more about her baby brother.