“I wish that Big Moon were warmer!” It’s Witchy Woman. Of course,
she’s commenting on the moon. But I like this idea. It’s so weird.
“Yeah, the
bigger the moon, the warmer it should be!” I proclaim.
She cackles.
Then turns to the woman standing in line, 6 feet or more, behind her. Not wanting
to continue the Moon Talk with me? I shrug and shiver.
One thing
she is right about. It would be nice if
it were warmer, moon-related or not. It feels a bit crazy to be standing out here
in the dark, in flip flops and swimsuit, thankfully covered by my new fleecy coat
my sis gave me for Christmas.
Is the Dive
Tank worth it?
Last night, I’d gotten to swim
in the Big Pool. Would I get to again? Or would I be banished to the Dive Tank?
It does
sound like a banishment, doesn’t it?
The Dive
Tank. Like I’m gonna be inside some deep, dark TANK. Without any diving gear.
The lifeguard comes out, mask and clear plastic hood over his face. The plastic scares me. It’s like I’m in a Sci Fi movie. Our world is poisoned and we all have to wear protective gear.
Which is
true. The coronavirus has poisoned our world. People are dying and getting
sick with no end in sight until the vaccine becomes available. And it sounds
like this isn’t gonna happen till the spring or summer. And even so, we will
all still have to be vigilant. Wear our masks. Swim in our own lanes.
I honestly
can’t even envision a world where I’m back at the Y in the sauna. Hangin' out
and chatting it up in Utopia.
Utopia is gone.
Hey, but at
least there’s the Dive Tank. Actually, I’m kinda curious about it, but do ask
the lifeguard if I can swim in the big pool. “If someone doesn’t show up,” he says.
“We’ll let you know.”
I try to hide
my disappointment. “The Dive Tank is
that little pool over there?” I ask, nodding toward the far end of the pool
deck.
“Yup,” he
says. “You’re good to go,” the woman lifeguard says after waving the blue plastic
thermometer at my forehead.
Does it
really register my temperature? I’m dubious. Maybe it just shows if I’m burning
up or not.
Which I’m
not. I’m freezing! I do wish that moon were warmer!
I head over
to the Dive Tank. It’s square with 3 lanes sectioning it. I finish gearing up with
my cap and plugs and mask and stick my toe in. It’s warm!
I jump in
and swim 4 strokes. At the wall already. Okay, this is gonna take a lot of turning
around. But again, I’m just SO happy to be in the water. I don’t even care.
Hell, I could just float in here and be happy. What is it about the water that
is such a necessary component for my well-being?
Who knows? As I turn around again, I wonder if I should count my laps. Like how many would equal 80 in the big pool? 200? That would be funny. It reminds me of when I was a kid and I would go out into our backyard pool and swim back and forth back and forth, counting 10, 20, l50, 200 laps. I was a very serious swimmer even as a 10-year-old!
As I come
to the wall, the woman lifeguard has approached me, “There’s an open lane!” she
hollers at me.
“Cool!” I grin, but thinking how goddamn cold it’s gonna
be to move all my junk and walk around the big pool to the chairs on the far
side.
It is cold.
Again, I wish that moon were warmer! But once I’m in the big pool, swimming,
wondering how many laps I did in the Dive Tank, I’m so happy. Swimming! How did
I live without it for 35 days?
I was very
cranky!
I swim on. Decide
that since it’s been about 15 minutes, I’ve probably done about 600 yards. I go
with this and start in on my fins backstroke yardage. Swim for about 10 minutes
when….
“Hello!!!
HELLO!!!”
I stop, the
guy lifeguard is hollering at me. “The person who had this lane reserved just
showed up. We’re gonna have to ask you to move.”
“Oh…., okay….” I glance up at the clock. It’s been 25 minutes. Shouldn’t anyone who is so late have to forfeit their lane and swim in the Dive Tank? I mean, c’mon. How long are they supposed to hold the lane for someone? When tutoring at the writing lab, we hold someone’s spot for 10 minutes. And this is what it seemed like they had done here, too, when they’d gotten me initially. It had been about 10 minutes, maybe a little more.
So, it
doesn’t make sense for me to move again, but I guess that’s the protocol here when
you reserve the Dive Tank.
I slowly
glide to the other end of the pool, readying to get out again into the frigid
air, even more frigid cuz I’m wet.
The Woman Lifeguard
hollers at me again, “Never mind. You don’t have to move!”
“I don’t?”
“No, it’s
fine. You can stay in that lane.”
I don’t know
what happened. I never saw the person who was 25 minutes late for their lane. Maybe
they just left. Maybe they’re over in the Dive Tank.
All I know
is that I’ve got the lane now. And I’m gonna make the most of it.
I turn over onto my back and gaze up at the moon through the misty steam. She looks warmer now.
Or is it just
the all the swimming? Warming me up. I grin as I reach the wall and turn, following
the moon with my gaze as I swim back and forth back and forth back and forth…..