Jayden Lerma, “Cycle”.
Camila sat with her mother at the bus stop, their hands squeezed together. Rain poured all around them from off the cover, and the little girl found herself transfixed as she stared at the curtains of falling water, glistening like fallen glass shards. It was in these rare moments, when her mind finally slowed and she was able to sit still, that Camila noticed her surroundings and the little treasures found in them. Turning her head down to the sidewalk in front of her, she watched as puddles overflowed and rushed down the street. Her eyes widened in awe at the flashes of colours embedded in the passing water. She felt a tug inside of her, urging her to go toward the sidewalk to cup her hands in the rainbow sliding down the road.
The slight clicking sound made Camila realize that someone else had joined her and her mother at the stop. He brought a small flame close to his face, the light coming off warm and bright against his features. Wisps of gray plumed from his lips, drifting softly to the top of the bus stop cover. It brought a bitter scent that made Camila’s eye water but she still looked up at the faux clouds, imagining they were different shaped animals dancing above their heads.
Her hand was squeezed tighter and Camila was pulled closer to the warmth of her mother, the little hairs of the cotton scarf tickling her cold nose. With the smell replaced with familiar laundry detergent and perfume, the girl felt her eyes grow heavy and her limbs loosen. The last of her wandering thoughts slipped away from her mind with her consciousness.
Camila felt herself being shaken awake, as well as a tug at her wrist. Without finishing a thought, she hopped down and followed along down the rumbling floor of the bus. She looked up to her mother striding down the aisle of seats, one hand guiding Camila and the other holding the string bag of clothes. Camila looked past her mother to windows, filled to the brim with splatters and dots of water. They glowed yellow from street lights outside, tiny and bright enough to stand out from the dark outside. Restoring the stars in the sky. And like stars, they streaked across the panes of the background leaving bright trails behind it.
Camila sprung down to the stairs of the vehicle, just barely missing a ravine of rushing water below her and landing next to her mother. Her mother grabbed her hand and they both ran into the building with flashing green lights, screaming and laughing and scrambling to escape the cloud’s tears.
Once inside, Camila drank in the smell of Spring Meadows, Botanical Rain, and Orange Blossom Vanilla. She wouldn’t be surprised if she went up to one of the empty washing machines and opened the cover, to find a magnitude of flowers growing from between the cracks. From lavender to honeysuckle, they would burst from the door and tumble to the floor of the laundromat. There would be enough for Camila to make flower crowns for each person that walked through to clean their clothes. While her mother went to find a washer to dump the bag full of clothes in, the little girl sat on a nearby bench. She imagined herself climbing into the machine with a bag full of seeds in one hand and carefully placing each one in the frame of metal panels with the other. Then she’d turn the little switch and then let the machine turn on, so that the water that swirled within it could reach each of the saplings.
Camila swung her feet and pushed herself off the bench, wandering down the rows of metal boxes until finally she found the tall cart she was looking for. With a smile stretching across her face she raced to grab it as if someone else were to come out of nowhere to get it before her. Warm fingers grasped cold metal as she pushed off the floor and sailed down the uneven floor while her feet were just a few inches from the ground. She slowed to a stop next to her mother and climbed into the lowered metal crate, curling up and resting her head in the corner. Camille poked her fingers through the holes of the cart like vines twisting and tangling themselves. As her eyes shut, she swore she saw a glimpse of berries dangling over her head from vines that were ever growing from the cart.
When her eyes snapped open, Camila was floating. Then she fell back onto her mother in the seat of the bus. Her head laid in the crook of her neck, while the older woman kept her arms wrapped around the small girl in her lap. Camila’s eyes wandered over the vehicle, following the string of wire connected to the ceiling, just within reach for anyone to pull on with ease. Camila could too if she wanted to move her arms from where they were comfortably pulled to her chest. Her gaze caught on an old woman across from her, staring back. Peppered, stringilly hair was pulled up messely on her scalp with strands framing her thin face. Her mouth pulled up at the edges, revealing a gap of gold. A glint reflected off of it from the luminescence of the bus lights, giving the smile an air of pride to it. Camila decided that the woman must have eaten so much gold it had just gotten stuck there one day, reasoning that that was the reason the woman’s other teeth were yellowed and chipped. With the rain still thrumming the same lullabye on the window and the bus rocking her body with each bump, Camila drifted back to her slumber.
This time, when her conscience once again brought her back from the depths, her head was slumped against her mother’s shoulder, just barely feeling as the door closed behind them. Blearily, she heard the floorboards creak their greetings at their return. Camila’s arms hung limp and swayed as her mother moved further through the house and into her room. Her mother’s hands moved to her back and she fell instinctively backward toward the bed, almost sensing it. Her rain jacket was zipped off, her shoes and socks pulled off and it was only then that the cool covers were tugged over her stomach. Warm air puffed over Camila’s face when her mother heavily sighed and pressed a small kiss to the top of her head.
“Goodnight, mija,” Her mother said.
