Heat stroke

It's hot down here. I forgot that summer means heat waves and brownish thunderhead clouds by the san gabriels, the san bernadinos. Even by the beach it's hot, no cool wet breeze, just more warm stifling air like the AC is broken. I've been trying to go running earlier in the morning to avoid the heat at its worst, but I hit the pavement after 10 and the sun was already near its apex, already above 80. I made my way down to the bike and running path at the beach where I stop at every half mile or so at a drinking fountain. I take the ramp exit at the park and do the circuit training stuff by the rec center, where all the hoods and derelicts hang out. By this time I'm so sweaty I look like I've come straight out of the harbor and I can taste the salt and diluted sun screen on my skin. There's a very old asian lady doing stretching exercises, she's unaccompanied and I wonder how she waddled her way down here with her toddling, diminutive steps. She's wearing a house dress with bright, primary-color flowers on a bright blue field and navy blue sneakers. Her short hair is dyed a light auburn and at the crown of her head is a seeping white patch. She could be my mother. For a brief instant I think that my dad and his family, sick of her old woman's complaints and arguments, have conspired to send her back to the states and she's been fending for herself at some city convelescent home. I haven't called them since last October maybe last September so I don't know. I have to look at her face to make sure it's not her. The woman's right eye is half closed, but I don't remember which side of my mom's face was affected after her stroke. She returns my stare and facing her now I she looks too chinese to be my mother. Mayhe it's too hot to be exercising. I watch her as she waddles away and I try to remember how dark my mother's bare limbs were last time I saw her.