She Lies And Says She's In Love With Him, Can't Find A Better Man, She Dreams In Color, She Dreams In Red, Can't Find A Better Man
--"Better Man", Pearl Jam
He looked around for her for ten minutes, but she was nowhere near the pool. She had told him to meet her promptly at eleven at the Sierra Madre community pool. He had showed up exactly nine minutes late. Could that have been it? Could that have been the reason? He didn't have his watch on any more, but he figured it must have been twenty minutes after eleven. She still hadn't shown up.
He looked at the pool again, teeming with all sorts of people. Kids mostly. But every now and then he caught a glimpse of one of their parents who had ventured into the sky blue depths. He estimated quickly in his head that there had to be fifty, maybe sixty bodies in the pool altogether. On their faces were drawn smiles of pleasure and enjoyment and from their lips escaped the joyful peals of contentment. There was not one unhappy soul in the bunch. He tried scanning through the splashing, but he couldn't find one child like himself who showed even the slightest hint of discontentment. He couldn't find one. Everyone everywhere around him was aglow.
It was the great numbers of floaties, he thought. Kids in floaties cannot be unhappy. It's impossible. It'd be like trying to be angry when you were a giant balloon crown on your head. Even the mental image of it suggested it's ludicrous nature. There the kids were swimming, giant inflatable arm bands keeping them afloat. They were merely happy to be at the pool. They were merely happy to be in the water on this early Summer day in the heart of the San Gabriel valley. It didn't matter to them that their families might be going through hard times or even that their parents took them down to the pool because they didn't know what else to do about their kids, or even that there were people troubled now wandering around the pool. They had their floaties. They shielded the kids from all that unpleasantness like Wonder Woman's arm bracelets.
He lamented the fact that he was perhaps too old for floaties at his age. He rather liked the notion of something to help keep him afloat.
He didn't know what he would think if he actually did find another miserable soul. Would he then smile at his patience? Would he pat himself on the back for his diligence? Whatever comfort he could draw from finding this as yet unrevealed figure would be small and not worth the effort. It would have been like being caught in a rainstorm and finding a single tree to hide beneath. It wouldn't stop the storm. He'd still get wet. He decided he wouldn't look any more. He would try to enjoy the crowd--maybe even blend a little.
She would show. He just knew it.
He turned his attention to the snack bar located at the far end of the pool. He remembered how much he had loved their cobbled together pizzas the year before when she had introduced them to him. All they were were Thomas' english muffins topped with Ragu spaghetti sauce and shredded parmesan cheese. To her, though, they were the best thing about coming to the pool during the summer. She had whipped back her dirty blonde her. She had flashed him those interminable blue-green eyes of hers. He couldn't have said no. So he told her she would try them. Wouldn't you know? They were actually pretty delicious and he told her he wouldn't mind having another one. My treat, he had told her.
The next time she had invited him to meet her at the pool, he had been working on how to best broach the subject of grabbing another pizza with her. He ran over all the lines in his head. Is it time for pizza yet? Who's hungry for pizza? Say, remember last time when we had those pizzas? They all sounded horrible to him. He thought she probably doesn't even remember showing them to me, he thought.
He considered it a colossal failure when they had failed to stop for snacks that time. It was his fault for not suggesting it.
When she came today he would suggest the pizzas right from the get-go. He thought that would put a smile on her face. He wouldn't even bring up the fact she was late again. He wouldn't even act like she had been late at all. He would tell her he just got to the pool himself--make up some story about his mother and brother Francis had been extra annoying by delaying him so. In fact, he would apologize to her for being so late. He thought that she would like that.
At St. Rita's he had been presumptuous. He had approached her out of turn. He thought their hanging out all Summer had entitled him to act more friendly with her at school. He had been wrong. She hadn't ignored him entirely. She just hadn't turned on that remarkable smile she had had for him during the Summer. When he heard her tell her friends, "oh, he and I went swimming a few times a month or two ago. It's no big deal," he took it in stride. It was no big deal. It wasn't as if they'd even ridden their bikes together down to the pool. Their parents had dropped both of them off. It wasn't a big deal at all.
The whole school year they sat a few rows from each other. They had remained quietly friendly. No big deal. But she hadn't asked him to do anything else with her after class. She had her friends. He had his friends. Never the twain did meet. He never gave up hope, though. He never once stopped imagining how casual he'd be when she finally did ask him to walk her home. No big deal, he would say, we both take Baldwin down and it'd be nice to have someone other than my brother to walk with. That's what he'd say. Then, while they were on their way down, right before they turned onto Sierra Madre Boulevard, he'd duck into the pharmacy to buy a New York Seltzer like he always did when he walked him. Vanilla flavor was his favorite. Hopefully, she would walk in after him. Then it'd be his turn to introduce her to something he was privy to and she wasn't. If he was lucky she would ask him to take a sip from his bottle and not just ask for her own. Either way he knew she would like it. That could be their new thing, like the pizzas were.
When she didn't ask him to walk her home he took it in stride. It just would have been nice is all.
He walked around to the front of the building, past the boys' and girls' locker rooms. He thought maybe she was getting changed still. He didn't see her standing around the entrance and he couldn't spy her at all from his oblique view into the girls' changing room. Something was definitely wrong.
He wanted to go swimming. He felt foolish standing around in his swim trunks for the last thirty minutes and not going into the pool. He wanted to wait for her, though. The worst thing he could imagine was already being in the pool when she finally arrived. He didn't want it to seem that it was at all possible to have a good time without her. He wanted her to know he was there for her and not just to swim.
He started thinking. He had had floaties once. Long ago his parents had bought him a pair when he started coming to the pool and when he started spending more time at his cousins' house. They had a pool and it was much easier to swim over at their house than it was to come to the Public Pool everyday. She wasn't at his cousins' house, of course. But the trade-off was that the pool was far more wide open. When he had been younger he had worn the floaties all the way to the house. It was a badge of honor signifying he was going swimming. He remembered showing off his arms to the people they would pass down the 605. They would see the arm bands and they would smile. Or they would laugh and give him the thumbs up sign. Yup, he was going swimming alright. Back then he didn't care who knew it.
Now, even though he was dressed to go swimming, he wondered if he still knew why he was there. If she wasn't go to show and he wasn't going to swim without her, what was his purpose for being there?
When she had finally asked him on the last day of class to meet her at the pool on the day it first opened for the Summer, he was elated. He didn't tell her that, naturally. But he was. No big deal, he said. No big deal at all. It was all of two weeks from that day. He spent all fourteen days planning out how it would go. What he would say. What he would wear. He even went through the trouble of begging his mom for new swim trunks. Everything would go perfectly.
He walked around the pool once more amidst the living trees of kids, parents, and assorted families either entering or exiting the waters. That's when it happened. He hadn't even been looking where he was stepping and stepped right down on a hapless bee on the concrete. They always had a few buzzing around the water and managed to step right down on one.
He felt the burning sting of the bee's toxins almost instantaneously. He felt the heat all along the bottom of his sole. He immediately kneeled down on the ground to grab his foot. Some of the parents, concerned for him, asked him what was wrong. He kept pointing to his feet with his head in between short yelps of pain, but none of the adults understood what he was trying to tell them.
It hurt. He felt like he was hurt all over.
Are you alright, they asked him repeatedly.
No, I'm not alright. I'm not alright at all, he told them.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
He looked around for her for ten minutes, but she was nowhere near the pool. She had told him to meet her promptly at eleven at the Sierra Madre community pool. He had showed up exactly nine minutes late. Could that have been it? Could that have been the reason? He didn't have his watch on any more, but he figured it must have been twenty minutes after eleven. She still hadn't shown up.He looked at the pool again, teeming with all sorts of people. Kids mostly. But every now and then he caught a glimpse of one of their parents who had ventured into the sky blue depths. He estimated quickly in his head that there had to be fifty, maybe sixty bodies in the pool altogether. On their faces were drawn smiles of pleasure and enjoyment and from their lips escaped the joyful peals of contentment. There was not one unhappy soul in the bunch. He tried scanning through the splashing, but he couldn't find one child like himself who showed even the slightest hint of discontentment. He couldn't find one. Everyone everywhere around him was aglow.
It was the great numbers of floaties, he thought. Kids in floaties cannot be unhappy. It's impossible. It'd be like trying to be angry when you were a giant balloon crown on your head. Even the mental image of it suggested it's ludicrous nature. There the kids were swimming, giant inflatable arm bands keeping them afloat. They were merely happy to be at the pool. They were merely happy to be in the water on this early Summer day in the heart of the San Gabriel valley. It didn't matter to them that their families might be going through hard times or even that their parents took them down to the pool because they didn't know what else to do about their kids, or even that there were people troubled now wandering around the pool. They had their floaties. They shielded the kids from all that unpleasantness like Wonder Woman's arm bracelets.
He lamented the fact that he was perhaps too old for floaties at his age. He rather liked the notion of something to help keep him afloat.
He didn't know what he would think if he actually did find another miserable soul. Would he then smile at his patience? Would he pat himself on the back for his diligence? Whatever comfort he could draw from finding this as yet unrevealed figure would be small and not worth the effort. It would have been like being caught in a rainstorm and finding a single tree to hide beneath. It wouldn't stop the storm. He'd still get wet. He decided he wouldn't look any more. He would try to enjoy the crowd--maybe even blend a little.
She would show. He just knew it.
He turned his attention to the snack bar located at the far end of the pool. He remembered how much he had loved their cobbled together pizzas the year before when she had introduced them to him. All they were were Thomas' english muffins topped with Ragu spaghetti sauce and shredded parmesan cheese. To her, though, they were the best thing about coming to the pool during the summer. She had whipped back her dirty blonde her. She had flashed him those interminable blue-green eyes of hers. He couldn't have said no. So he told her she would try them. Wouldn't you know? They were actually pretty delicious and he told her he wouldn't mind having another one. My treat, he had told her.
The next time she had invited him to meet her at the pool, he had been working on how to best broach the subject of grabbing another pizza with her. He ran over all the lines in his head. Is it time for pizza yet? Who's hungry for pizza? Say, remember last time when we had those pizzas? They all sounded horrible to him. He thought she probably doesn't even remember showing them to me, he thought.
He considered it a colossal failure when they had failed to stop for snacks that time. It was his fault for not suggesting it.
When she came today he would suggest the pizzas right from the get-go. He thought that would put a smile on her face. He wouldn't even bring up the fact she was late again. He wouldn't even act like she had been late at all. He would tell her he just got to the pool himself--make up some story about his mother and brother Francis had been extra annoying by delaying him so. In fact, he would apologize to her for being so late. He thought that she would like that.
At St. Rita's he had been presumptuous. He had approached her out of turn. He thought their hanging out all Summer had entitled him to act more friendly with her at school. He had been wrong. She hadn't ignored him entirely. She just hadn't turned on that remarkable smile she had had for him during the Summer. When he heard her tell her friends, "oh, he and I went swimming a few times a month or two ago. It's no big deal," he took it in stride. It was no big deal. It wasn't as if they'd even ridden their bikes together down to the pool. Their parents had dropped both of them off. It wasn't a big deal at all.
The whole school year they sat a few rows from each other. They had remained quietly friendly. No big deal. But she hadn't asked him to do anything else with her after class. She had her friends. He had his friends. Never the twain did meet. He never gave up hope, though. He never once stopped imagining how casual he'd be when she finally did ask him to walk her home. No big deal, he would say, we both take Baldwin down and it'd be nice to have someone other than my brother to walk with. That's what he'd say. Then, while they were on their way down, right before they turned onto Sierra Madre Boulevard, he'd duck into the pharmacy to buy a New York Seltzer like he always did when he walked him. Vanilla flavor was his favorite. Hopefully, she would walk in after him. Then it'd be his turn to introduce her to something he was privy to and she wasn't. If he was lucky she would ask him to take a sip from his bottle and not just ask for her own. Either way he knew she would like it. That could be their new thing, like the pizzas were.
When she didn't ask him to walk her home he took it in stride. It just would have been nice is all.
He walked around to the front of the building, past the boys' and girls' locker rooms. He thought maybe she was getting changed still. He didn't see her standing around the entrance and he couldn't spy her at all from his oblique view into the girls' changing room. Something was definitely wrong.
He wanted to go swimming. He felt foolish standing around in his swim trunks for the last thirty minutes and not going into the pool. He wanted to wait for her, though. The worst thing he could imagine was already being in the pool when she finally arrived. He didn't want it to seem that it was at all possible to have a good time without her. He wanted her to know he was there for her and not just to swim.
He started thinking. He had had floaties once. Long ago his parents had bought him a pair when he started coming to the pool and when he started spending more time at his cousins' house. They had a pool and it was much easier to swim over at their house than it was to come to the Public Pool everyday. She wasn't at his cousins' house, of course. But the trade-off was that the pool was far more wide open. When he had been younger he had worn the floaties all the way to the house. It was a badge of honor signifying he was going swimming. He remembered showing off his arms to the people they would pass down the 605. They would see the arm bands and they would smile. Or they would laugh and give him the thumbs up sign. Yup, he was going swimming alright. Back then he didn't care who knew it.
Now, even though he was dressed to go swimming, he wondered if he still knew why he was there. If she wasn't go to show and he wasn't going to swim without her, what was his purpose for being there?
When she had finally asked him on the last day of class to meet her at the pool on the day it first opened for the Summer, he was elated. He didn't tell her that, naturally. But he was. No big deal, he said. No big deal at all. It was all of two weeks from that day. He spent all fourteen days planning out how it would go. What he would say. What he would wear. He even went through the trouble of begging his mom for new swim trunks. Everything would go perfectly.
He walked around the pool once more amidst the living trees of kids, parents, and assorted families either entering or exiting the waters. That's when it happened. He hadn't even been looking where he was stepping and stepped right down on a hapless bee on the concrete. They always had a few buzzing around the water and managed to step right down on one.
He felt the burning sting of the bee's toxins almost instantaneously. He felt the heat all along the bottom of his sole. He immediately kneeled down on the ground to grab his foot. Some of the parents, concerned for him, asked him what was wrong. He kept pointing to his feet with his head in between short yelps of pain, but none of the adults understood what he was trying to tell them.
It hurt. He felt like he was hurt all over.
Are you alright, they asked him repeatedly.
No, I'm not alright. I'm not alright at all, he told them.
Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers
Labels: pain, Pearl Jam, sting, swimming pool, unrequited love
posted by mojo shivers @ 1:51 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home