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Our time confined in this space is turning into odd territory.
Have you ever been on a road trip, even two hours with a person you don’t really know? Well, the first half hour it is awkward, it is quiet, and no one knows how to act or if you are allowed to listen to your favorite music or fart.
“So, how long have you lived with Bambi?” I twist the dial to lower the music and Aly continues to bounce her head to the bass.
“Since I got out of rehab.” She states the fact, and great, I am back feeling like an asshole with probable cause.
“You two seem close.” I stare at the open desert road. Aly’s eyes are on me, staring into my spirit. I hope she doesn’t look too close, she might find something familiar.
“I have come up with a list to help your efforts on breaking you out of your bad habit. First, we could paint, read books, meditation, go on long walks. There is also a marvelous idea of going to speak to an actual therapist and getting real help.” I don’t know the mental list she has, but if this is how we are going to accomplish my struggle, I have my doubts.
“What are your hobbies?” I ask, instead of focusing on the dilemma.
“Are you trying to get to know me or something? What’s with the twenty questions?” Aly reaches and turns the music back up.
“Yes, that’s what friends do.” I turn it back down.
“Well, I think we should ask qualifying questions before we establish this friendship.” Aly straightens her shoulders, pressing them against her seat.
“Such as?” Counting the stripes in the middle of the road as they pass.
“Do you believe in aliens?” Ugh, of course she would go with such a strange topic.
“Nope, I think it is the government messing with everybody.” I shrug off her judgments.
“So let me get this straight. You don’t believe in aliens. You believe when people get abducted, it’s scientists performing experiments on them. And, what, these scientists are into butt stuff? Couldn’t they hire prostitutes for that?” Alyeska has a response and opinion for everything under the sun.
“How about we put the friendship questionnaire on hold and listen to music the rest of the way.” I turn up the volume, and finally, we both agree on something.
When we get to the arena, Alyeska takes in the environment. I’ve swam here a few times before. Most of the guys I’ve known from the swimming world since we were kids. It’s a sport that cuts out your guts and leaves you to swim to shore while sharks are chasing you.
“Wow.” Alyeska stares at the massive arena. “So, this is your domain, like a king coming home to his kingdom?” I swear she stares at me with intense pride I can’t place; it makes me feel ashamed for one mistake, the worst one I ever made.
“Something like that. Hey, I’ve got to check in. Why don’t you find a seat in and grab some food from the concessions?” I give her a twenty and she eyes the money in my hand. But doesn’t put up a fight as she accepts it.
After checking in, I wander around the seating, I say hi to a few people and shake hands. But mostly I am itching to be alone and find my silence.
Before a swim meet, I like to go out in the seats, stand in the top row and stare down at the pool. It reminds me how small and insignificant I am. And down there when I defeat the gallons pushing against me to lose, to give up, I keep going, because it will only ruin me if I let it.
Outside of these walls, nothing else matters, no one else cares about my name. But in here, this sport is the synonym for my name. It is my claim, the ultimate thirst for strength, and a place where I know the taste of victory.
It’s dark up here, all the bright lights are aimed at the water. The commotion of the crowd is ramping up, and soon they will be chanting and the noise in my ears will be washed away with the fluent speech of water.
I head back down to change my clothes and make my way over to where the other swimmers are stretching.
“Swimmers report to your lanes.” The announcer’s command booms over the speakers as I finish stretching with the others.
We get to our designated blocks, and I stare into the water in front of me. It’s the same water I have seen for years. The color changes, but it feels the same, only there is a slight temperature difference.
Our goggles go on and then our caps. I adjust mine and press them against my face to secure that no water will invade my vision.
“Take your mark.” Another announcement and I bend over and grip the edge of the block with one foot backward.
The horn goes off and my toe catches on the edge as I push myself to clear the area. My fingertips dive into the water, then my wrists, then cover me completely. I dive too low and have a hard time getting back to the surface after I kick seven times to gain speed.
There isn’t any time to check where anyone else is, or panic about my current place. My hands groove against each other and then spread as I push the water behind me and bring them up into a butterfly stroke. Pushing fast, holding my breath as I follow the black line on the bottom of the pool.
When I reach the other side of the pool, my body bends in half as I flatten my feet against the wall and kick off, swimming as far as I can under water until I come up for air.
