Page 92 of Absorbed

Within half an hour, the entire facility was packed with swimmers. They were required to have three guards watching the water at all times for anything over a hundred people, and by rough estimate it appeared they were pushing their max capacity of two hundred and fifty. Bob was giddy over the enthusiasm the community was showing for The Plunge Olympics and put a sign in the pay window that said “MORNING SWIM SOLD OUT.” He called Mark to come in so he could remain available to officiate the races.

As the first race started at ten, twenty families had signed up to compete. With only six lanes total, Bob decided they would need to have four initial races of five relay teams each, then a final race between the four winning teams to place for gold, silver, and bronze. Then they could keep the last lane open for shallow-end swimming during the races and the deep end and diving board would remain open the entire time.

Stacey was blowing her whistle constantly. Dozens of people would turn at the sound while the kid running or throwing something into the water appeared oblivious. Despite using the megaphone, her voice was becoming hoarse. She stood in her tower to get a clearer view of the water, but it didn’t help much. There were way too many bodies.

That morning Stacey’d had no appetite for breakfast, but as the mayhem around the pool increased, her hands began to shake. She’d forgotten to bring a snack.

“This Olympics thing is insane,” Stacey told Jessie as he took over her tower during rotation. “There’s no way I can leave during my break.”

“Yeah. I hope it’s not like this for the full two weeks,” he agreed, looking around at the crowd. “Let’s just go to the pharmacy after work, ‘kay? On our way home?”

Stacey nodded, then made her way around the deep end to take over Melissa’s position in the shallow-end tower.

Melissa climbed down the ladder, scowling. “What the fuck is going on with you two?” she hissed into Stacey’s ear.

“Me and Jessie?” Stacey tried to keep her eye on the pool, but felt dizzy and nauseous. She gripped the ladder. “Nothing. I swear.”

Kids nearby in the water were splashing each other and shriek-laughing.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing. After what he said last night, I thought you would have been more loyal. Told him to go to hell. Instead, you gave him a ride home and a ride to work? Seriously?”

From across the pool, Bob eyed them as he directed the relay teams where they needed to line up for the next race. He held a stopwatch in one hand and gestured to Stacey with the other to wrap it up.

“Melissa, it’s really not like that, but can we–”

“Obviously you’re not as good of a friend as I thought.” Melissa spun around and weaved through the throng of spectators to the guard shack.

“Ugh….” Stacey climbed the ladder to the tower, feeling sick to her stomach. Once settled in the tower, Bob nodded his approval. Her head spun with Melissa’s words. She looked across the water at Jessie, then tried to push the thoughts from her mind and focus on the swimmers.

Bob was trying to clear the race lanes again, shouting to swimmers to shuffle over to the one free lane. Adults interested in watching the race stood in the water along the end lane-line, crammed so tight it was difficult to see around and beneath them. Toddlers were jumping into their parents’ arms from the edge of the deck. Small kids struggled to stay afloat, paddling around the mass of bodies in water too deep for them. Older kidswere diving beneath the surface like dolphins, navigating around and between the feet of spectators.

Stacey’s chest tightened at the thought of even one child at the bottom, unnoticed, like the boy she’d rescued a few weeks earlier from the deep end. She waved Mark over.

With his megaphone in hand and a red buoy strapped to his back, Mark motioned for Bob to watch his section. He kept his eyes on the pool as he maneuvered close enough to the foot of Stacey’s tower that they could talk.

“What’s up?” Mark asked through the megaphone to be heard over the crowd.

Stacey leaned over the railing and shouted down to him, gesturing with her hand. “There’s a whole section of the pool in the four-to-six-foot-deep area that I can’t see during the races, because of everyone crowding by the lane line. If Bob is timing the races and judging the winner, he can’t watch it, either.”

“Yeah,” Mark yelled back. “We really should clear all the water except the diving board area during races. I’ll tell Bob.”

Stacey looked across at Bob. He was holding up his stopwatch and a few gold coin necklaces while a newspaper photographer snapped photos, the crowded pool as backdrop.

Jessie’s whistle blew. Stacey whipped around to see a kid narrowly miss landing on another in the deep end. She was about to jump when Jessie reprimanded them.

Sweat dripped down her back and under her arms. Stacey shielded her eyes and squinted, scanning her own section of the pool again.

The racers were lined up on their blocks. Bob’s starter pistol erupted with a loud crack. Stacey startled. Swimmers dove in. Cheering erupted around the water and pool deck.

Stacey eyed Mark standing on the deck by the section of the pool she was worried about, and he gave her a thumbs up that he had it covered. She surveyed the shallow end, saw kidsrunning and blew her whistle, then shouted, “No running” into the megaphone.

The bathroom doors clanged shut, echoing across the concrete among the screams and claps and splashing. Stacey’s heart beat hard as she noticed the next leg of the racers diving in. They splashed across the pool and back. Then another group went.

Mark’s voice boomed from the megaphone across the water. A pair of middle schoolers sitting on the top railing at the back of the bleachers were told to climb down.

Suddenly, Bob sounded the bullhorn signaling that the race was over. Swimmers flooded into the open lanes again for a few minutes of free swim before the next race began.

Stacey was struggling to pay attention. She felt woozy. She inched forward, sitting on the edge of her seat, gripping the tower railings.

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