The Yellow Baths, continued.
By: Jackie Cubero
I blinked my eyes and as they adjusted to the steam around me, I was able to make out some of my surroundings. In front of me were dozens of circular, water filled tubs that sank into the floor. Steam arose from each one. And they were all yellow. A room full of yellow baths.
There were people in many of the tubs. Some tubs had what appeared to be entire families, others with just a person or two, and some were empty. I began walking along the yellow tile that covered the floor, looking around to see if there was anyone I recognized. Looking around for my family.
But wait, my family could not be here. They were on their way. They had been looking for me. I had been lost. Yet, I still had this sense looming over me that my family was in one of the baths. I walked through the room and looked at the baths, scanning the faces. Until, I found one with my family.
This could not be. How could my family be here in the tub and on their way to find me? Even though I saw them before me and was staring toward the tub, they did not seem to notice me. My mom and dad sat in the warm water. Dad’s arm around my mom. I turned away, confused.
I began walking through the room, past the tubs, and realized with a start that I knew everyone in the tubs. There were my neighbors, letting their dog out into the yard. There was the little boy from my daycare who taught me to flick off my scabs. There was my daycare teacher telling us it was nap time. There was my babysitter with her shiny, sparkling earrings. Closest to the door was a tub with waves splashing, and a little girl calling out, lost down town. And here was I, amidst pools of memories.
To be edited/revised. 🙂