Lights

Splishy Splash

When I was young my parents began me in swimming lessons. They were county swimming lessons so it was pretty much just holding onto the side of the pool the entire time and holding our breath under water. That was the first time I really enjoyed water. Sure Tyler butt-face was there but I made sure that we'd stay far away from each other the entire time.

I remember distinctly being bored by the overly peppy instructor and just floating away on my back. I would just enjoy the feel of the water and watching the clouds. The instructors would talk to my parents telling them that I was probably just ADD or something.

When my mom was talking with some co-workers about the really crappy progress of my swimming she found out about the swim team that was developing in our town. She signed me up (and Tyler soon followed).

Everyone said that despite my rather small frame I was a complete natural. My dad would brag and say that his son was a fish out of water. My mother would hang my ribbons on her desk at work. It was some of the best years of my life by far.

I was even better than Tyler at something, which was pretty great. Though it meant I would get an extra face full of sawdust on the playground I knew I was still faster than him.

As time moved on from back then we became even bigger rivals, that is until 6th grade. When we (or should I say Tyler) hit puberty things changed outside of the pool.

Instead of getting a face full of sawdust I would get verbally attacked by him and his newly found friends. They even began to beat me up after school at times.

After months of the bullying Tyler approached me during lunch. It was a tuesday and the sun was hidden behind the veil of clouds. He told me that he was the one that was leading the pack tormenting me. He could call them off at anytime or make them do much worse. Like any bullied soul I begged for him to call off the dogs but it came at a cost.

He said that the only way the torture will end is if I stop swimming. At first I said that I'd rather die than quit the team.

So then came the dogs, 10 of them to be exact. They beat me up to the point of having to be taken to the emergency room. My mom marched straight to the school and demanded the kids responsible to be punished. Well that was the clean version.

So a bunch of kids were punished for beating me up some were expelled others were suspended but the one that mattered most, Tyler was untouched. That day he called in sick, how convenient.

When I stayed home with a swollen jaw and fractured ribs Tyler stayed with me with his "sickness". He sat down with me again and asked if I was willing to cooperate this time.

I agreed. The emotional toll of the beating was fresh in my mind and I could see any good out come but agreeing to drop out from the team.

That had to be one of the hardest things I have ever done before. Even now it's hard for me to compare anything to the feeling of telling my coach and parents that I didn't want to swim anymore.

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The lock clicked and opened.

I pulled the 20 pound door open and walked right in. The door closed automatically behind me with a loud slam.

My sneakers squeaked against the cracked old tile, echoing through the whole building. I turned the corner into an old locker room labeled "Women" on a rotting wooden sign that may have been pink at one point.

I dropped my backpack on one of the old metal benches and opened one of the many lockers in the room. In the locker I had a pair of swim trunks, racing goggles and, a swim cap.

I quickly changed into my swim gear and headed out into the indoor pool area.

Yes, it is what you're thinking. I own a swimming pool.

A year after I quit the swim team I was depressed and broken. I went for a very long one night when my parents were asleep. I was really just trying to get away from home. That night I found myself at this old pool. I recalled it from my early childhood, it was where my first swimming lessons took place.

I broke in by throwing a rock into a window and climbing in. Without knowing the owner of the pool was inside and wasn't very happy about it at first.

After he threatened to call my parents he looked around the large empty room. He looked sad and slightly drunk.

"Hey kid, why'd you come here tonight? I don't see no spray paint."

I just told him that I saw it and wanted to see what it looked like on the inside. I also mentioned that when I was little I had swimming lessons there.

"Do you like this place?" When he asked this I heard a sad tone in his voice.

Without hesitation I said, "Yes, very much."

After that night the old man and I became partners. He said that if I fixed the place up then I could have it. Just like that.

So That summer I spent time watching youtube videos and reading how-to guides in the library on things like plumbing and getting rid of various kinds of mold.

I became rather close to the old man, Henry Burright. I found out that when I met him his wife had died. They had been soul mates since they were twenty, they'd been together for 50 years before his wife died.

I stopped at the end of the deep end and held onto the wall while I caught my breath. '400 meter IM, gets me every time.'

"Why hello there birthday boy."

I looked up to see Tyler's face. Before I could react in any way my head was forced under water.

Precious air was replaced with chlorinated water. My lungs burned like fire as I fought against the strong hand holding me down. After what felt like hours I was allowed up again.

I gasped for air and began to cough up the water that had gotten into my lungs.

"Now now calm down there kiddo." Tyler said in a sickly playful voice. "You were only down there for 25 seconds, let's shoot for 2 minutes!"

Before he could push me under the water again I pulled him in by his arm. "Like hell you bastard."

I scrambled out of the pool before he could realize what just happened.

I ran towards the Women's locker room barely not slipping on the floor slipping on the tiled floor. As I turned the corner into the locker room I heard Tyler yell after me.

"OH NOW YOU'RE GOING TO GET IT!!!!!"

'Fuck, fuck, shit, fuck.'

I began to gather my bag and clothes from the floor and locker. I had barely gotten a shoe on when Tyler stormed in.

His eyes were burning like two emerald fires. He looked like a very large angry drowned rat. If this had been out of context I would've laughed at him but, right now I felt like I was going to die.