Elements

Water


When I was fifteen, I went into the lake near the Japanese Gardens in Sioux Falls with two nubile girls in one piece suits that presented curved shoulders and hints of cleavage. I scuttled around in the water, splashing and sneaking longing looks, waiting for the signal to depart the murky brown water of the lake to walk to the nearby swimming pool and risk chlorine sting for a better view of what went on beneath. At some point, my weight shifted to my left foot, I sprung half out of the water with a sharp rock as a spring and sliced my big toe. The pain quickened. I limped with the others to the pool. The rinse in the shower and the wet cement floor dulled the pain of the wound, the scale of which I dared not come to know. The lifeguards in red suits and nonchalant glances, the calls of Marco Polo, and the humdrum mechanical rhythm of bounding divers of the flexible boards helped me forget what happened. I came home, took off a bloody sock, and saw an elegant red slice whose edges were encased in dirt. To the emergency room went I, with a nurse for a mother who remained adamant that this indeed was necessary. I remember receiving a Sprite as an initial palliative, before the attending came in and had me lay on my stomach with my legs from the knees down hanging off the little table they ask you to sit on in hospital examination rooms. He dug out the dirt, dilating the cut in the process, and I imagined the sound of my skin being widened as I bit my lip’s surfaces to create a distraction from the more immediate pain.

Air

A stringy piece of beef, used in mother’s stew, caught in my throat and tickled the esophagus with its filaments. I was ten. I haltingly grabbed the glass of milk and attempted to bully the meat down, but the milk lost the battle and came back up in defeat. Off rushed we to the emergency room.

Fire

You’d be surprised how fast fire moves. A little bit a wind, especially a hot prevailing wind cutting up a draw with downed timber and cured grass, is quite a catalyst. On the other hand, you’d also be surprised how quickly a black area becomes home to little sprouts of green, how quickly ponderosa pine that the fire toppled over allow themselves to become fuel for the next generation of little five-inch tall brethren.


You go with Archimedes? You think all is flux, can’t step in the same river twice? Cool beans.