The Summer in the Shoebox

Three days before we first heard

There was no more Summer

We kidnapped the season

And brought it down by the lake

At Pueblo Norova

When it was explained to us

That the natural order of things

Was for season to melt into season

And for Summer to transition into Fall

We felt that something had to be done

After all, hadn’t we had a lovely time this Summer

And isn’t it true that we have significantly less fun in Fall?

And isn’t it also true that Fall will lead into Winter?

And isn’t it the truest of all true things

That Winter is sad and glum?

So instead of letting summer

Slip through our fingers

We caught it

And clasped it

And ran with it

Down to the lake

Where we put it in a shoebox

Brody brought from his house

We poked holes in the shoebox

So Summer could breathe

And we put photos of ourselves—

Having fun at Tara’s pool

Eating hot dogs at Ben’s beach house

Watching the fireworks on the 4^th of July

While Katie’s parents made us s’mores

Over a fire pit in their backyard

We wanted Summer to understand

Why we simply couldn’t let her go

If she left then school would start

And we’d all be put into different classrooms

Where we would make different friends

And be different sorts of people

By the time she arrived again

So into the shoebox she went

With a closed cover

Photographs of us

Enjoying her

And a watch

So she would always know what time it was

We set the box on the surface of the lake

And watched it float out to the center of the water

Where it sat calmly

As if accepting its fate

Then we turned

And with our arms around each other’s shoulders

We walked away

. . . . .

Two hours before school was to start

The pipes on one side of the building all burst

And the damage was such

That there was no telling

When we’d be able to go back

‘Looks like you kids get some extra summer this year,’ Brody’s father joked to us

We smiled

Knowing our plan was already working out perfectly

Then came the heat wave

That convinced Tara’s parents

To take the cover off their pool

And remove the few dead leaves

That had gathered on top

So we could all go swimming again

‘Looks like we’re having an Indian summer this year,’ Tara’s mother remarked

We smiled

And disappeared under the surface of the water

Our underwater laughter

Turning into bubbles

Making Tara’s mother think

That we were playing

Sharks and Seals

Then Mr. Dock found an extra stash of fireworks

In his garage

And so he set them off

Right over his front lawn

And the display had people coming from all over

Happy to see the 4^th of July

In the middle of September

It didn’t occur to us until later

But the fireworks might have been

What set the Summer off

Maybe from inside her shoebox

She heard the pops and bangs

The oohs and ahhs of the crowd

And the whispered promises we made to one another then and there

That we were never going to let her

Out of that box

Maybe that’s what made her decide

To fight back

. . . . .

The storm started as a slow dance

Across the sidewalk

On an unseasonably hot day

Even for a season

That was supposed to have left

A month ago

The heat met up in the center of town

And turned wet

Then started to spread out

As wind and dust

The local weatherman was stunned

At the way the storm was behaving

As we watched him on television

Try to come up with something to say

We noticed that the little red dot

Indicating the point where the storm was strongest

Was located directly above the lake by Pueblo Norova

We all looked at each other

And wondered just how mad at us Summer would be

If she ever got out of that box

That was when Katie’s mother and father

Came running into the living room

Telling us to get into the basement

Because the storm was—

And then the glass in the windows shattered

And the lights went out

And the weatherman began to pray

. . . . .

We waited until Katie’s parents were sleeping

In a cool corner of the basement

And then we piled up three chairs

Underneath the basement window

And crawled out onto the driveway

The wind was so hard

It felt like we were being struck

Across the face

By a hard hand

And in a way, we were

The Summer was angry

And stranded

On the surface of a lake

And it knew who its kidnappers were

How could she forget?

We’d left our photos

The town was being punished

For our selfishness

Houses were being uprooted

And thrown into the sky

People were stuck in place

Trapped by walls of rain

That were coming down so hard

It was like being trapped on all sides

By clear cement

And there we were

Stuck in the basement

With Katie’s parents

Not knowing if our families were all right

Katie’s mother kept saying that we would wait it out

That we would wait out the storm

But we knew there was only one thing to do

We had to let Summer out of the shoebox

So out the window we went

And down to the lake

As the rain beat down against our backs

Almost pushing us

Toward our conclusion

. . . . .

When we got to the lake

The air was so heavy

We fell onto the ground

Trying to catch our breath

As it ran away from us

Out onto the water

Ben unhooked the boat

But as soon as we climbed into it

We could see that it had been flung against the dock so hard

That there were puncture wounds

All on one side

‘What do we do now,’ Brody asked

And that’s when we heard Katie dive into the water

She had no idea what direction she was swimming in

But later she would tell us that she figured if the Summer really wanted out

That it would help her do what she needed to do

And so she swam

And when she thrust out her arm

One final time

Before the weight of her own body

Was too heavy to keep afloat

She felt it hit the shoebox

And instinctively, she ripped the cover

Off the top of it

Then fell silently down

To the bottom

Of the lake

. . . . .

When we woke up

We were laying flat

On a sheet of ice

The lake by Pueblo Norova

Had frozen solid

And so, after helping each other up

We walked to the shore

Stepping carefully

So as not to fall through

Even though we could feel the density

Beneath our feet

Katie had the shoebox in her hand

And she carried it

Like a skeleton

All the way back to town

Snow had been left everywhere

On rooftops

And streets

And on the old empty boxes

Mr. Dock had pulled his extra fireworks out of

And then left at the end of his driveway

For the trash collectors to pick up

The pipes in the school were swiftly replaced

The damage was reassessed

And it was decided that it wasn’t as bad

As everyone had thought

School began promptly

And it was announced

That summer vacation would be shorter next year

As a result of the missed time

We were split up

Brody and Katie in one class

Ben and Tara in another

. . . . .

Katie keeps the shoebox on her nightstand

And a few months later

When Christmas appeared

She went from house to house

Until she had collected her three friends

And then the four of them

Once again made the trek

To the frozen lake

And set the shoebox

Down on the surface

When they did

It glided across the ice

Until it reached the center

And then a light shot out of it

And hit the sky

Creating a firework

Of photographs

The barbecues

The pool parties

The s’mores

The four friends

Sitting together

Arm around arm around arm

‘Do you think this means we’re forgiven,’ Ben asked

And Katie, feeling warmer

Then she’d felt in months

Walked out onto the water

And up to the shoebox

Where the light was pouring out

The other three followed her

Until they were all standing

Around the box

Less than an inch

Away from their memories

They looked at the light

Then each other

Then they locked hands

And stepped

Right into it