Part 1Becoming Summer

When I was five, I asked my mom why I didn’t look like anyone else.

In our small, isolated town deep in the mountains, everyone had dark hair and dark eyes. Mine was the color of straw.

My mother looked at me, her face blank. She didn’t say a word. She just picked up a pair of scissors and shaved my head until it was bare.

From then on, I was the only bald kid in town.

Two weeks later, I found a slip of paper she’d hidden in the woodpile behind our shack. It had a phone number on it. Barefoot, I ran to the payphone at the town’s only gas station and dialed.

That night, a procession of sleek, black cars rolled down our dirt road, their headlights cutting through the darkness.

Policemen slammed the man I called ‘Dad’ to the ground. My mother, sobbing, fell into the arms of a man in a clean, sharp suit.

They were taking her away. I just stood there, frozen.

“Momma,” I whispered to the empty space. “You said if I made the call, you’d kiss me.”

* * *

It was chaos, but all I could see was my mother.

She was being held up by the man in the suit, looking so fragile, like a single gust of wind could shatter her. I instinctively ran toward her, reaching out to grab the edge of her dress.

My hand hadn’t even touched the fabric—

“No!”

She flinched as if she’d been bitten by a snake, her head snapping around to look at me. Her eyes were wide with terror. She pointed a trembling finger at me, her voice a ragged cry to the man in the suit.

“Don’t! I don’t want her! Get her away from me! She’s that devil’s child! Leave her here to rot!”

I froze, my hand still hanging in the air.

The man in the suit pulled my mother into his arms, murmuring softly, “It’s okay, Evelyn. It’s okay. We’ll leave her here. We’ll leave her.”

Just then, a man in a driver’s cap looked at me, then stepped forward hesitantly. “Sir, Ma’am… Mr. and Mrs. Ashford… my wife and I, we can’t have children. Seeing this little one… if it’s alright with you… I’d like to adopt her.”

My mother nodded instantly, desperately.

The suited man—Mr. Ashford—looked from my mother to me, a deep weariness in his eyes. He waved a dismissive hand. “Fine. Yes. That’s for the best.”

My mother didn’t look back. She let Mr. Ashford guide her into the fanciest car, the door shutting with a solid, final thud. The engine purred to life.

As the car began to move, to take her away forever, something inside me snapped. I tore my hand from the driver’s grip and ran, my bare feet pounding against the sharp gravel of the road.

“Momma! Momma!”

Pain shot through the soles of my feet, but I didn’t care. I just ran and screamed, tears streaming down my face, blurring the taillights into red streaks.

“You promised! You said you’d kiss me! You promised!”

The car picked up speed, disappearing around a bend at the end of the road. I stumbled to a stop, doubling over, coughing until my lungs burned.