Jillian Merriweather

“Certain Red Things”

“I see you got your lil’ gym bag with you.”

her father, Stefan, says, already halfway through his meal.

She pays him no mind, hasn’t in a while,

she only takes in the salted butter rising from the toast,

the garlic powder from the seasoned eggs,

and the scarlet of the ketchup.

Tatum still struggles not to roll her eyes at his words

the man hasn’t supported her playing volleyball

since she got a spot on the JV team in 10th grade.

His overt dislike for the uniform the main reason,

he prefers for them to wear conservative clothing.

Long skirts, long sleeves, no skin showing,

horrid looking shoes.

She never understood why her father reacted

with such distain for the uniform.

Having full range of motion was important

in any sport, she couldn’t get why he

didn’t understand that.

It wasn’t like she was prancing around

in skimpy clothes

at the red light district.

As the dutiful housewife,

in her own long-hanging skirts

with her ankles covered,

her mother, Jamie, says nothing

but shows her support by dragging the surly man to every game,

as if he were a sloth and couldn’t move on his own.

When she made captain of the varsity team in junior year,

his dislike lessened slightly.

He recognized the difference in skill level

but never once has she gotten complimented on a good game.

II

A brash knock on the physiology classroom door

brings a slow-spreading smile to her face,

it pulls at the corners of her lips.

She knows what that means.

Calmly like a cucumber packing her backpack,

she waits Mr. Boneman to release her from class.

“Miss Rogers, clear out, you’ve got a game today.”

he calls out from the door.

His voice sharp as if he were a sergeant in the army.

“Give us a win, ya hear!”

Lifting a hand to her temple,

she salutes him in kind.

Joining her teammate,

the duo race toward the girl’s locker room

It was chaos once they got inside,

the girls tossing their clothes,

slamming locker doors, and yelling at each other

as if it was a scene from an animal enclosure at a zoo.

Got money on my mind, I can never get enough

And every time I step up in the building everybody hands go up

All I Do Is Win by DJ Khaled plays on coach’s speaker as

Tatum walks through the rows of lockers to find her own.

The rest of the team was busy stripping down to their under-lovelies,

as her mother calls them, before rapidly joining them.

Now was not the time to dawdle like lost ducklings,

sweat-inducing team warmups with Coach Petrova were mandatory.

She pulls out this month’s mainly off-white uniform

with hints of pink as pale as petunias

in support of Breast Cancer Awareness.

Shimmying like a snake, she pulls the shorts up her legs first,

she prepares for the shirt next

but a strange sensation shoots straight through her body

it grows in intensity as it travels from her backside to her lower belly

Her vision goes red as the pain starts soon after,

as if someone was shoving knives into her.

Bracing herself against the open locker door,

she tries to breathe through it,

biting her lips bloody in the process.

“You good, Cap?”

She waves one of her teammates, Tanya, off.

“Yeah, just a weird cramp. I think I ate too much at lunch.”

III

The snap of the ball meeting the palm of Tatum’s hand

begins the game as she jumps like a kangaroo as she serves,

the ball sailing like a ship across the net.

She runs to her position in the back row of the court,

ready to defend it.

The opposing team sets up their play.

Bump, set, spike.

Legs arm’s length apart

knees bent

hands spread ready to pass the ball to the setter.

“I GO!”

She yells as the ball comes straight at her

Creating a paddle out of her forearms

she achieves the perfect pass

the volley continues.

Bump, set, spike

Bump, set, spike, block

Bump, set, attack

Bump, tip

the volley continues.

IV

Two wins out two games so far

varsity plays best three out of five.

Tatum begins this round in the front row

ready to block all hits coming her way.

Her teammate begins the volley with a jump float.

She watches the opposing team struggle in the beginning

but manage to return the ball only to fail when

Tatum jumps into the air.

A single-handed block

deafening even to her own ears.

Her hearing comes back

the crowd is still silent

She turns slightly to see her teammates

who appear stricken.

Fully facing her team

she starts to walk toward them

the sensation of knives stabbing her comes back in full force.

Her jaw drops but no sound comes out.

She’s stationary,

like she had just been frozen while playing freeze tag,

in a state of pain.

Whispers from the crowd slip into her ears

she looks up to see people pointing at her.

She scans the crowd

to see her parents and sister in the audience.

Her father is bowing his head in shame.

Her mother and sister stand quickly

rushing, like fire licked at their heels, down the steps assumably toward the court.

They’re so far away.

“Cap.”

A voice breaks her focus

momentarily halts her pain, as if she was stopped at a red light.

She looks over to see Tanya walking over to her.

Tanya’s mouth is moving,

she can’t understand a word she says.

“Tanya, I–

“Cap.”

Tanya’s murmured utterance floats like whisps into Tatum’s ears.

“There’s a red spot on your shorts.”