Blue
 
Emi lay on her back, and everything around her was moving.  The sky, the clouds, the beach.  The clamor of the other people out there, most of whom were much closer to the shore.  The bright sun was just slightly obscured by a puffy white cloud.  She squinted her eyes and thought of something her dad had told her when she was much younger:  that the reason the water at the beach looks so blue is that it’s a reflection of the sky.  Common sense, but it still always felt to her like her dad was the one who had come up with the idea.  She thought of how it must look from the sky, like a great big watery mirror with people all over it.   And she started to feel a little bit like the sun.  Hot.  Still.  Everything spinning around her.  She felt less like any of these other people and more like a part of the reflection, her chest heaving like the water itself, rising and falling.
 
But this pensive mood was unbecoming of her, and she deliberately forced the thought from her mind.  Her dad had warned her not to swim out this far, and either he’d stopped watching her and simply hadn’t noticed she’d gotten away, or he trusted her more than he was willing to admit.  She’d only stopped out here to catch her breath after a rather brisk swim from the shore, and having regained her energy, she decided it was time to swim back.  
 
Under a bright red parasol were her parents, enjoying a bit of time to themselves.  Emi grabbed her towel and started to dry off.  
 
“You’re not training, are you?” her dad chided her.  “We came out here to have fun and all you want to do is swim faster than anyone can keep up with you.  Getting too old to play with your dad?”  She just stuck her tongue out at him and he laughed.  He was right, though.  She’d been all business since they’d arrived.  But it wasn’t every day she had a chance to swim in the ocean, and her parents seemed to be enjoying the time to themselves.  
 
“You know,” her mom said, “I think it’s probably a good time to head back.  It’s getting late enough, Emi, and your father and I do work tomorrow.”
 
It didn’t seem late to Emi, but she wasn’t about to argue.  She grabbed her towel and quickly dried herself off, then helped her parents pack up their beach gear before heading back.  The sun was still at its apex, and the sand was burning the soles of her feet as they walked to the parking lot.  She stepped gingerly on the gravel as she was off the sand, careful not to step on anything sharp.  Much to the chagrin of her concerned parents, Emi absolutely refused to go to the beach any way but barefoot.  
 
Emi suddenly felt something sharp stabbing her right foot, and she yelped in pain.  She stopped walking.  What was it?  Glass?  A sharp rock?  Her parents must not have heard her, because they just kept approaching the vehicle without her.  They’re getting impatient, she thought.  She hurried to keep up.
 
But at her very next step, she felt the same feeling in her left foot, and it felt like her right foot was hurting even more.  She tried to pause, but the pavement was hot and it made her skip.  With each step, the pain was worse.  Finally she fell to her knees.
 
She called out to them.  “Dad!”  She saw her father climbing into the driver’s seat of the car.  They’d already packed everything and were ready to head home.  He gazed at her impatiently through the window.   Was this tough love?  A lesson in proper footwear?
 
“Dad,” she yelled again, “I think I’m hurt.”
 
He said nothing to her.  She stared him harshly in the eyes, giving her best hurt expression, the kind that normally won him over.  But his eyes gazed past her like she was made of glass.  The lot fell silent.  Everyone else had gone.  She clenched her eyes shut to fight back her tears.  Why was he being so mean?  
 
“Emi,” her dad said, “It’s getting late.”
 
“Dad,” she pleaded.  “I’m hurt.  I can’t move.”
 
He spoke more sternly.  “It’s getting late.”
 
She squeezed her eyes shut.  Her legs felt like they were on fire.  Her toes felt wet.  Was she bleeding?
 
No crying, she told herself, shaking her head.  No crying.  Even with her eyes closed, she could still see him gazing blankly at her.  The image refused to go away.
 
She heard the voice of her mother whispering something.
 
“Is she having another nightmare?”
 
“Mrs. Ibarazaki, I know you mean well, but it’s best to let her rest if she can.  Waking her up now will only agitate her.”
 
Emi clenched her eyes shut.  Her cheeks were wet and her eyelids felt hot.  She felt the wet sand between her toes.  Her shins were searing from the hot pavement.  The soles of her feet felt like they were covered in broken glass.  But the image that was haunting her had gone.  How much of this was still a dream?
 
“I’m sorry I didn’t call, I just thought I would surprise her with a visit today and I wasn’t expecting her to be asleep.  Is she ill?”
 
“No, I think she’ll be waking up soon.  She was pushing herself even more than usual yesterday, and her exercise went late.  Normally I don’t approve therapy after hours, myself, but she’s showing such a marked improvement and it’s truly inspiring, not just for the staff but for the other patients as well.  So I made an exception.  We think she’ll be ready for release in two months, but if you asked her, she’d tell you she’s ready to go home any minute.”
 
Emi wiggled her toes.  Her legs were burning.  Her feet were covered in broken glass.  She could feel the blood running over them.  She kept her eyes closed.  Still dreaming, she told herself.  Don’t look.  Don’t open your eyes.  She heard her mother weeping.  She heard a man comforting her.  
 
That man.
 
“I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for us.  She really is amazing, but this isn’t just her miracle.  You’ve all worked so hard.  You especially.  And she really looks up to you.”
 
That laugh of his.
 
“Well, that’s news to me!  All the other staff here have been talking about how warm and bubbly she’s been this last month.  She’s especially good with the other kids in the hospital.  All the kids admire her resolve, and she’s so kind to them.  It’ll almost be a shame to see her leave.  But she still hasn’t quite taken a shine to me.  Only talks when she’s spoken to.  She won’t so much as look me in the eyes.”
 
His eyes.
 
The sensation of pain gone, Emi rolled over, clutching her pillow and soaking it in her tears.   She heard her mother’s startled voice.  
 
“Sweetie, are you okay?  I’m here.”
 
His eyes.  Why did they have to be blue?