How could I have forgotten? I was in the water with Seth for open swim after his lesson. All it took was one kid yelling "Let's play sharks and minnows!" My senses were assaulted at once. The smell of chlorine, the feeling of the sun on my back, the sounds of splashing and the shrieks of feigned fright from the mouths of children. The memories of spending my summers at the West Side pool club in Allegan, Michigan came flooding back. I saw Seth looking at me with confusion because he didn't know how to play the game. I wanted to explain it to him, but I started to tear up with a wave of homesickness for a time and place of long ago. It's the late 1980's and I am suddenly 12 or 13 years old again.
The pool was my social life, and my babysitter. Well, technically the baby sitting honor goes to Ron, the lifeguard. He was cute and nice and so GROWN-UP! I now realize he was probably 18 or 19 years old. He also had a ghetto blaster that would sit on the concrete near the changing rooms and unwaveringly play the latest and the greatest of the 1980's. You didn't want to mess with Ron too much, or push him too far. Otherwise he would blow his whistle and make various gestures at you meaning you were punished. That required you had to get out of the pool and sit on THE WALL! Public shaming in all it's glory!
It would be unfathomable nowadays for a mom to drop her kids off at a pool club for five hours. But that was normal back then. I don't recall seeing my friends parents there either. There was a good bunch of us who were "the regulars." They taught me how to play sharks and minnows and the rest of the pool games kids play. It's also where I learned that a bit of splashing into the face of a cute boy might cause him to tackle me, which clearly meant he liked me. Although looking back it's possible the boy was really trying to drown me, because 12/13 year old boys tend to not realize when a girl is flirting with them.
The friends I made at the pool were special. They were public school kids. I had been attending a small Catholic school since 2nd grade. That school was in the next city over, which was at least a 20 minute drive away. I didn't didn't know many kids from Allegan. But that meant the hometown kids didn't know I wasn't very popular at my school. The pool was where I could be cool. (I may be stretching this a bit.) Our town was so small that everyone knew everyone. But they didn't know me! They only saw me in the summer. After spending all school year with the same faces, it was exciting for them (and me) to see someone new. I remember two of my pool friends and I sitting on the wall (this time just resting, not on a punishment!) I was sitting between them and they were arguing over which one of them I should call first later that evening. One of these friends was a BOY and I knew that if he wanted me to call him then he must REALLY like me. The get married, have babies, be together forever type of like!
Eventually five o'clock would arrive. One by one the parents would come collecting their children. The parking lot was gravel and the driveway was long. You could hear the crunch of the tires on rocks and we would strain our necks trying to see who's mom was rolling in. After pushing my sister out of the way to claim the front seat, the ride home was damp and cold. In the 10 minutes it took to get home I could feel my limbs grow weary. The exhaustion of swimming all afternoon and all the sunshine (because baby oil you know, never sunscreen) was finally kicking in. I trudged up the stairs to my bedroom and attempted to find clean, dry clothes. I knew my mom would be making a great dinner.
I stretched out in my day bed on top of the peach color duvet. I thought about the day. I suddenly remembered I had a decision to make. Who WAS I going to call first that night? I dug through the piles of dirty laundry until my hands found the sought after prize. My clear, see-through, plastic phone. (Attached to the wall of course by a less than generous cord length.) I flipped open my address book where I had painstakingly recorded all my important contacts in my best handwriting (with the necessary adjectives scribbled next to each name describing just what I thought of each person.) I looked at the pages for a few minutes and made my decision. I lifted the phone and listened for the dial tone. It was mocking me, daring me. I punched in the number and as the sound of the ringing began in my ear so did the butterflies in my stomach.
I stretched out in my day bed on top of the peach color duvet. I thought about the day. I suddenly remembered I had a decision to make. Who WAS I going to call first that night? I dug through the piles of dirty laundry until my hands found the sought after prize. My clear, see-through, plastic phone. (Attached to the wall of course by a less than generous cord length.) I flipped open my address book where I had painstakingly recorded all my important contacts in my best handwriting (with the necessary adjectives scribbled next to each name describing just what I thought of each person.) I looked at the pages for a few minutes and made my decision. I lifted the phone and listened for the dial tone. It was mocking me, daring me. I punched in the number and as the sound of the ringing began in my ear so did the butterflies in my stomach.
*Special shout out to Ursula, Beth, Chad, Keith, Corey, my sister Stephanie, little Sarah and about a dozen more who shared those summers with me. Thanks for the memories! The details may be fading but the feelings of fun and friendship and long, hot summer days filled with limitless potential will always remain. I wish my boys the same.
