Sweat test
by Claire Hopple
My first memory starts in an overheated room. I was three, sitting on the floor with some toys and other kids in what looked like a waiting room. Moms were lined up in chairs along the wall with magazines.
The zipper on my winter coat kept catching neck skin. Forced heat pushed through the vents, pressing each layer on my limbs like a gentle suffocation. Carpet fibers seemed to fill my lungs.
I didn’t know it but I was getting a sweat test to determine whether I had cystic fibrosis.
Meanwhile, 237 miles away, in the same state, Centralia was burning. The Centralia mine fire is still burning. This fire has been ablaze underground since 1962.
At its current rate, it could keep burning for 250 years or more.
The leading theory for how it happened: cleaning up the town for its Memorial Day celebration somehow meant burning garbage near an old mine entrance, which led to igniting the coal beneath it. Fire began traveling those innumerable mine tunnels.
There’s no way to identify which tunnels continue to stoke the flames.
Carbon monoxide seeps up from the ground, which is already weakened and prone to sinkholes.
Regardless of the fact that the state of Pennsylvania condemned the borough of Centralia in 1992, a few residents remain, stubbornly breathing their own poison.
I was enduring my sweat test, yes, but I was also prolonging my sweat test. The boy closest to me snapped into full tantrum mode, collecting enough perspiration to ensure his release.
I sat. I didn’t move, really. I wondered why.
Turns out I don’t have cystic fibrosis. But then maybe I haven’t left that room.
Claire Hopple is the author of four books. Her fiction has appeared in Hobart, Vol. 1 Brooklyn, The Rupture, New World Writing, and others. Her writing has been nominated for the Wigleaf longlist and the Pushcart. More at clairehopple.com.