Rosalisa knew that her mother would be home soon, and that her father would lock down the house to please her. First, he went from cabinet to cabinet, replacing the small combination locks and doing the same to the pantry and closets. Then, after passing through the backyard to lock up the pool patio, he went to the laundry room to fetch Rosalisa's now-dry swimsuit, and go toward her bedroom where it would be returned to her closet and rehung. Rosalisa heard her mother's Lexus crunch into the long gravel driveway and start down toward the house. Just as her father began to lower his lean frame back to the floor beside her, in their favorite spot in front of the couch, she noticed that the security system's camera lights remained unlit, the small plastic lacked it's cautionary amber glow.
"Daddy," Rosalisa said, pointing at the black empty square on the camera.
"Shit." Her father jumped up. "I mean shoot."
He ran to the room's farthest corner, bent over the old wood computer desk, clicked twice, and sighed. Rosalisa heard the cameras whir to life and slowly the red lights on eache blinked on. The car door slam from the driveway set her father in motion like a sprinter hearing a starter pistol, and by the time the sound of jingling keys pierced the front door, he had returned to his spot on the floor beside Rosalisa. He placed his hand on top of her soft coal-colored hair and winked at her, the crows feet beside his eyes deepening for just a second.
Her mother pushed through the door and began her "I am home!" routine. She first commented about the light in the room and how it could damage Rosalisa's eyes. She went from lamp to lamp, turning each on and casting the room into a soft white blur. Then, on her way to the desktop computer, she did a circuit through the kitchen, checking each lock.
"Why is there no vide from today?" She turned toward Rosalisa. "Henry?"
Rosalisa tensed up and her father shifted his arm out of her grasp, the small fingers digging in like a falling grasp.
"Decided to save the power, hon," He said. "Look. She's fine. Come sit here with us."
For a second it seemed to Rosalisa that her mother might want to come sit with them, more than anything, but felt repulsed for some reason. Then her face changed and Rosalisa could see only disgust.
"The floor is filthy."
Rosalisa's mother crossed the living room just far enough for the girl to see the top of her head, and then turned back toward the kitchen where she had already set out a spray bottle of Lysol and a rag.
"Thank god you are okay honey," She said. "Make sure to wash up after you... you know, get up."
That night Rosalisa dreamt that a fire raged throughout the small onestory house. At first she couldn't get out of her room Her father, screaming through the door to tell her to stay calm, was desperately trying to undo a combination lock on the other side. Finally, she heard the lock fall and her father swung her up into his arms. The two moved through the house, Henry carrying Rosalisa, until they reached the sliding door that led to the pool. Henry slid the door aside, and without stopping, threw Rosalisa into the pool. Rosalisa could hear her mother shouting, "NO! NO! She can't be in the pool, SHE'LL DROWN!" and her father shouting back, "She'll be fine. You need help! But I can't find you!" Her mother's voice seemed to be coming from everywhere in the house, and nowhere at all. "There is a combination lock but I can't get it open! Henry!" But her father just continued to run throughout the house back and forth until the fire grew larger, engulfing every section, and Rosalisa couldn't see him running anymore. The fire spread to the pool patio, overtaking the wooden fence around the pool. Rosalisa felt she had no choice but to go underwater, and did. For moments she panicked, wondering how she would survive, with no way to breathe and nowhere to go. The urge to breathe in became too strong and she inhaled, drawing her lungs full of chlorinated water, and to her surprise she did not gag, or even cough. Rosalisa found she was able to breathe underwater.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
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