You Must Remember This

Chapter 5: A Truth Universally Acknowledged

John pounded the water with even strokes, leaving a bow-shaped wake that combined with everyone else in the pool to create choppy interference. Breathe in, breathe out. When he forgot this mantra, the electrifying shock of chlorine in his nose would jolt him back to reality, and he would take a few moments to find his rhythm again. Careful breathing made John perceive Ms. Stevens's voice as an old, grizzled monk at a Buddhist monastery; Jason had told him once about how in middle school, someone matching that exact description whacked him with a bamboo pole during guided meditation. John thought that sounded painful. The sun reflected in the ephemeral patterns, granting everyone a sun-dappled sheen when they emerged for breath. Beth grabbed the concrete lip of the pool, pulled her torso up, and turned back to look at John and the others who were still finishing their laps.

Today was technically the second day of the swim unit, as the first was yesterday during the short day, a scenic tour of the facilities punctuated with frequent reminders not to act like idiots. If they misbehaved, Ms. Stevens and one of the water polo coaches would have to get in the water to supervise them. The students laughed among themselves, blissfully unaware of their impending new routine. The following morning, like many others, was cold. The boys came out of the locker room in small clusters, some in oddly sized flip-flops and some barefoot, most clutching striped towels or plastic bags of clothing and shoes. They paced back and forth to ward off the cold, damp floor, which felt to them like it drained their life force with every second. The girls on the other end seemed more loquacious, but they too were burdened by the cold; some stood on their towels in an attempt to ward it off, but this only delayed the numbness, as eventually the moisture would seep through to every fuzzy filament and they would have to move. By John's period, the day had warmed considerably, but nobody was comfortable. They didn't know how good they had it, Ms. Stevens warned.

Jason barely tolerated running, and he also barely tolerated swimming. At least he was buoyant, unlike Frank, who astonished Ms. Stevens by his ability to sink like a rock despite his light figure; after the first swimming session, Frank innocently inquired to Ms. Stevens about alternative activities, and they came to the consensus that his time would be more efficiently used on the track. She suggested he try scuba diving (Ms. Stevens never had had a student scuba dive for PE credit, although she never explicitly forbade it; if anyone ever did, she would have a cool story to share at the next staff meeting). Coincidentally enough, Pranav's sophomore PE class was on the track during that time, and Frank would blend in perfectly. Jason finished every lap with his head and heart pounding. It wasn't that he was out of shape—Jason could lift weights and do push-ups all day—Jason simply lacked endurance, and PE was nothing but a competition of endurance. He considered asking Ms. Stevens for a similar exemption, but as soon as he walked by her to enter the locker room, she gave him a glare that indicated clearly he had not earned the right to favoritism. Jason could feel the chlorinated water eating at his skin, wicking away moisture and turning it into a crumbly patchwork. He tried blasting away any trace of the chlorine in the shower, scrubbing with a bar of soap, but he left every day feeling raw.

Ernest was frequently bothered, and today was no exception. Mrs. Huang took a portion of class that morning to lecture on Chinese culture, a topic he believed he needed no further education on. The Chinese had invented gunpowder; they had invented kites; they had invented the printing press; they had invented the compass; they had invented poetry—Ernest believed this claim to be a bit dubious, and Mrs. Huang then asked the class if they knew any Chinese poetry. Frank offered up one of the poems that every other student in the class knew by heart from a young age, and Mrs. Huang applauded and told everyone to learn more. If Frank could do it, they could too. Her vaguely racial rhetoric bothered Ernest; a few weeks prior, she had explained to the class how people from the south of China were more attractive due to the clean air and water, while those from the north, like herself, were ugly—but not to worry, they were from the heartland of Chinese culture, and for this they should be proud! These statements ensured most in the class felt insulted in some way; Mrs. Huang looked at Frank as she explained these truths that apparently were common fact. The juniors, who had already heard this same talk their previous two years, made sport of watching the freshmen's jaws drop.