Pool Day

Later it would be known as the hottest July 4th on record. On that day, the public pool was filled to the brim with every variation of suburban kid. I just wanted to fit in. But my mother made sure I was slathered with zinc oxide; my flowered bathing cap was securely clipped under my chin and my JC Penney bathing suit was properly fitted.

As I cautiously walked around the deep end, I wanted to be both invisible and welcomed. I navigated the water and spied my opportunity. HE was there. The bronzed, blonde and bearded neighborhood boy who made an art out of being disdainful of the world around him. At that moment in time, he was all I could focus on, and I directed my energy on how could I…covered head to toe in zinc oxide…make him notice I even existed.

I remember wishing my mom had let me wear my allegedly improper Monkees bathing suit. I sauntered over to the edge. Casually dipping my toes into the chlorinated world of pre-teen summer, I glanced sideways and saw my opportunity. Bronzed, blonde and bearded was alone as his posse was engaging in full on chicken fighting. They played on as he leaned against the pool. If you could smoke in the pool, his body language was just missing a Marlboro in between 2 fingers. One arm bent back as his fingers danced through his sun kissed blondeness. His coolness seemed both practiced and organic at the same time. I just stared at him as my feet started to burn on the pool deck as my feet and my bathing cap’s strap dug into my pudgy chin.

As I stepped on to the sliver of cement between the deck and freedom, I turned my back to the pool. Keeping a side eye toward bronzed, blonde and bearded I needed to calculate this awe-inspiring move to coordinate with just one bored glance from his direction.

This was it, the moment. In my head, I executed a perfect back jump into the pool. I manifested an Olympics worthy performance and could feel the crowd watching my perfect flight and descent. The harsh reality was, that in my singular moment of self-confidence I jumped up but neglected to jump out.

My chin connected with the pool’s edge, and I felt strangely flattered when the lifeguards leapt to my rescue. Although my injuries were far from life threatening, the blood from the large gash on my chin mingled with the zinc oxide to form an algae looking paste which floated on top of the water. Half of the lifeguards on duty started blowing their whistles to empty everyone out of the pool while the other half carried me to the pool’s medical office. I started to allow my supreme embarrassment to grow and envelop me like a fog. I wanted to dissolve and just start this day over. My mother was called to the office as she had been busy playing cards with the neighbors in the shade of a striped umbrella in the picnic area.

The door to the office burst open and I was shocked to see bronzed, blonde and bearded rushing in. “Oh my God, are you alright?” he asked. “I saw the whole thing.” Although my goal had been to get noticed, this wasn’t exactly the plan I had worked out in my head. Sensing my embarrassment, he wrapped his towel around me and said, “that was the most stupid bravest thing I’ve seen. At least you gave it a shot”. The towel felt like a hug and for that one moment in time, I felt special.

Growing up, I always remembered this day and I still cringe when I see kids jumping backwards into a pool. And I remember the kindness of bronzed, blonde and bearded. However, the lasting legacy of that pool day is that I would forever be known as “that girl” who closed the pool on the hottest July 4th on record.