Summer of the Searching [Pt. 2] Summer in Detroit was its own beast, like staring down a monster with breath that stank like engine fire, hot and smoggy, about to close its jaws around your neck. But somehow, for the first time in Isis’s life, wandering its streets felt almost like being home. It was safer here - foreign in a way she remembered, so unlike her most recent years but so original and essential to her being. At the core, she was a Detroit girl: a failure.
She just needed to cool down. An impressive feat in the August haze, but her soul felt colder here. she was cold here. Isis remembered all the things she had sworn to leave behind, nagging at the back of her skull like an unwanted passenger. She had not invited Detroit along with her for the rest of her life, but it had come along anyway. Or maybe she had stayed. She didn’t know anymore.
Nevaeh was right, she realized very early into her stroll. Isis was not being a mother to anyone. She had two chances now, and she was blowing them both. She had to get out. Again. Out of Detroit and out of her head and out of her own way and just out. Out, out, out, out, out.
Those were the words on her lips when she reappeared at home only half an hour later. “I have to go,” she said. It was the strongest she had sounded in months, and she staved off the natural response. “I know I just got here. But I have to go. Just…. Just for summer.” She explained the extent of a plan she had - to step away, to find herself and, yes, professional assistance - and took a breath. Her lungs still stung like pollution, but there was a light glowing through the fog. Nevaeh stepped into view, with Theodora in her arms. “I’m trying,” Isis said quietly, and mostly to herself. “I’m trying.”