ICE CREAM EGGS

“So, you doing anything special for Easter?” P asks to break the Utopian Ice.
Sandy snorts, then sighs shaking her head. “No, not really. G is giving up ice cream for Lent, but other than that.....”

“Ice cream!” P exclaims. Talk about sacrifice! She could never give up ice cream. It was right up there with swimming of the things she could not live without.

“I know, I know,” Sandy laughs softly. “I feel the same way you do. I usually try to support him by giving up the same thing too. Last year it was meat and I didn’t have a problem with that. But ice cream?” Sandy shakes her head, “I have to say he’s pretty good about it. He lets me eat it in front of him and such.”


“I would hope so!” P cries, thinking to herself how if he wanted to give up the most delicious food substance known to mankind that was his business. Sandy could be a supportive partner and all, but really. There were limits!

“I do try to just eat it on the weekends though,” Sandy continues, “so I’m not flaunting it in his face daily!” She chuckles, the mirth bouncing off the walls of Utopia.

P has missed this. She’d already had the “Long time no see” exchange with Sandy before heading to the pool. “Hope it’s not too crowded, see you in Utopia as you call it,” Sandy had fallen right back into the old patterns. Not asked P why she’d been gone and so P hadn’t volunteered the reason.

“You celebrate Lent, don’t you D?” P asks now in Utopia, noting how DL had been more than unusually quiet during the Lent Sacrifice discussion.

“I used to....” DL murmurs, her voice quavering ever so slightly. Immediately P knows. Easter must have been a big deal for DL’s mother, Martha Ann. Italians love the Resurrection, don’t they?

And now, with Martha’s passing so fresh, DL must be missing her so much. This is why P and DL have been out of the Utopia Loop the last few months. It was just too much for DL to venture out into the world after her mother passed.

P can’t imagine. Losing her mother. It would be devastating on so many levels. And with DL, there were these days, these rituals around holidays that all families have, but with DL, well, they were Grand Events. Now, this year, it will be so sad to have Easter, which had been filled with tradition and ritual and the spiritual without Martha to lead the celebration.


P doesn’t mention any of this while chatting with Sandy in Utopia. Though she suspects that Sandy knows something major has happened with DL. But being Sandy, she has way too much decorum and class to ask.

Now, DL rises and quietly floats out of Utopia, followed by Sandy’s nod and P’s usual comment about how it’s too hot in here for her.

Sandy doesn’t miss a beat but continues the ice cream narrative thread as soon as DL shuts the door: “I have this friend, she loves ice cream, and I remember one time I went over to her house and she offered me some. I asked her what kind and she opened her freezer and showed me 14, I swear, 14 different kinds of Hagen Dazs ice cream, all lined up in alphabetical order.”



“You’re kidding!” P grins. 14 pints of Hagen Dazs. What a vision!
“Nope, I kid you not. She only ate a little bit at a time. Just took a couple of spoonfuls. She liked to have a choice. Can’t knock her for that.”

P nods—choice. She gets this intellectually. That some people want variety. They want many opportunities to choose from. Not P. She just wants chocolate and vanilla. Preferably in one container. What the hell ever happened to Hagen Dazs Vanilla Fudge? That was her favorite. She misses it so.

“I’m completely addicted to Klondike bars now,” P offers to Sandy.
“I’ve not had one of those in decades,” Sandy muses.
“I know. They’re from a gone by era, but I can still pick them up right in my own freezer.”
Sandy laughs, “You have a Happy Easter.”
“You too,” P responds. “Eat some Ice Cream Eggs.”
Sandy grins, giving P a last look before heading out to the showers, “Good to see you again,” she says softly.
“Yes, you too,” P answers.



Buona Pasqua to all! But, especially to DL and the memory of her dear mother, Martha Ann Colone Leto, November 11, 1926 – January 22, 2013.

Admiration Situation: II

“Oh! I am so sorry.... I did not mean to any harm! Please forgive me!” Gushing Woman’s near sobs take P by surprise. What the hell was she so strung out about? And what the hell did it have to do with P? Deciding to just let it play out, P climbs up to the top corner of Hilltopia, cold and exhausted from her swim. She just wants to rest. She doesn’t have the energy for a Sob Fest.

But there is the Story Factor.....


Gushing Woman sniffles loudly, wipes her eyes, stares at P with longing. “I have no idea that what she said it is true. But now I know and can you ever forgive me?”
Okay, P thinks, guess she’ll have to bite, “Forgive you for what?”



“Oh the lifeguard, she say that me and my son we can not swims in the lane next to you. The lifeguard she say that we must swim in the other side of the pool.” She sniffles again, dramatically.

P had noticed GW and her kid in the lap lanes during her swim, but hadn’t really paid much attention since it had been a quiet night. They were mostly hanging out at the wall, laughing and playing. Granted they weren’t swimming laps, but P knows that this activity is rarely enforced in the lap swimming only designated lanes. So she was mystified why GW was apologizing to her. She hadn’t complained (like she usually did when the lap lanes were being utilized by non lap swimmers.)

Maybe the lifeguard had said that P had complained? But this didn’t make sense, or did it? Who knows? The main issue at the moment was how to calm GW down so that P could relax for a few moments and get warm without having to listen to her pitiful sniffling.

So she lied. Pretending that she had complained. That she did care.

“Oh, that’s okay,” P soothes. “It was a quiet night and there weren’t a lot of lap swimmers, so I don’t think it’s a big deal, you know?”
GW forced a teary smile, “You forgive me?”

“Sure, of course,” P sighs to herself, still wondering why it was her job to forgive her. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Oh, thank you thank you thank you!” GW gushed, relief palpable in the dark hot room. “I admire you so much! I told this man I saw he was swimming here the other day how much I admire you he had been swimming since 1967 and he looked like he was in his 50’s though he must be in his 60 or maybe even 70 and then I told him about you and how you got me to swim again I have not gone swimming for such a long time but now because of you I try to swim 2 time a week.”

“Really?” P is still perplexed about her role as Inspiration Swimmer. But maybe this happens all the time and she doesn’t hear about it?


Nice to think so, but hardly likely. What’s more likely is that GW is just insane and has honed in on P as a target for her Swimming Insanity Inspiration Situation.
Just her luck.
“I used to swim when I was younger,” GW continues, all evidence of her earlier tears completely vanished.
“That’s great,” P comments. And really it is but she was so tired and just wanted to rest without any inane conversation for once.

“Yes. I swim on the swim team and then I stop. I had my kid and then I did not have the time but now with you I swim again!” She beamed.

P had noticed, that contrary to her expectations, GW really could swim. Her bikini halter-top suit notwithstanding, GW had a lovely strong freestyle and a graceful underwater breaststroke.
“Glad to hear it,” P encourages, in spite of her instinct to avoid any sort of Swimmer Mentorship Role.

“HENRY!!! HENRY!!!” GW suddenly hollers, rising quickly from her corner and rushing out the door. “What you doing in here!? I told you to stay in the pool until I come to get you!”
P watches as Henry races by the sauna, giggling loudly, his wet white feet slapping dangerously on the locker room tiles.

“Is that your kid?” Another woman yells.
“Yes,” GW answers, racing after Henry.
“You better watch him. He’s gonna hurt himself running like that.”
“I know I know. Thank you I am sorry..... I know how he does. He not bothering you.”
P sighs. In fact Henry was a Big Bother. In the pool, not so much, but in the women’s locker room, his loud staring antics riled all the women.



P doesn’t want to get involved tonight for a number of reasons. She’s tired. She’s hungry. She’s feels a certain loyalty now to GW even though normally P would be the first to complain about a boy child this big in the women’s locker room.

So tonight, she just shrugs and heads for the showers as the sounds of GW’s futile mothering admonishments ring through the air.
“HENRY! I told you! Stop that. The lady she does not like that when you do that....”

ADMIRATION SITUATION

“I so admire you!”

Enthusiastic Admiring Woman plops down on the sauna bench kitty-corner to P. Her voice loud and excited. Her eyes shining (Yes, P can tell this even in the dark)

P turns her head from her prone position. Does she know this woman? Has she talked to her before? Maybe. People seem to remember her and then she doesn’t remember them. What’s up with that? she wonders. But doesn’t have time for in depth reverie since EAW is on a Mission.

“I see you here every Tuesday and Thursday or do you come every day?”
“Uh…no…..” P rises, deciding she better sit up for this one.

“Well,” she gushes on, “I see you and I think, Wow look at her! There she is doing her thing every day and she probably has a full time job and a family and a life but she still comes here and…..” She pauses to catch her breath. “I just so admire you!”

“Thanks,” P murmurs. Admires her why? For what? The Gushing seems so out of the blue. P is sure, now, that she hasn’t spoken to her before. Is the woman breathless over P’s swimming? Sometimes P gets compliments for her ‘smooth and graceful’ stroke. But this woman hadn’t said anything about swimming. Was she admiring her because she works out at her advanced age and it’s just so amazing?

Okay, here P is being a bit overly sensitive. It is her birthday the next day and she’s feeling old and tired and in disbelief at her advanced age. Yet she doesn’t really believe, until this moment, that others see her as ‘old’. And maybe Gushing Woman doesn’t but at this point in the exchange, P has no idea what she’s being admired for.

“I actually have a full time job,” P offers, “but no kids.”
“Oh, that’s okay!” Gushing Woman laughs loudly. “I have just one but I might have another. You know…..” She leans over toward P in the dark heat, her voice soft, conspiratorial “I have a very interesting experience…..”

P nods. What was she going to divulge? Some mystery with her kid probably. But no, not yet. That was later. And P may not have the time or energy to get to that point. But she digresses.



“I knew this woman, she was a gymnastic and she could not do the gymnastic because she had grow too tall. I take her out of the contexts…..” She pauses. P wants to ask what the hell this means, but doesn’t get a chance. “And so I say to her, ‘Why not do the swimming?’”
Gushing Woman leans back against the wall, sighing in satisfaction.
P waits a moment but nothing else is forthcoming. “So…did she do swimming?”
GW shines her bright eyes at P, then grins big, laughs. “I don’t know. Maybe she did. Maybe she didn’t.”

“Oh….” P starts to gather her stuff. After her late swim this eve she’s tired and hungry and while GW is a good story, P really needs to get home and eat.

“My son, when he was conceived, I could feel his Spirit in me.” P pauses and sets her stuff back down. “I tell his father, you be fathered now.” She rises and runs her hands down her hard body torso, demonstrating the Sperm Spirit Manifestations Miracle.

P stares at her, delighted. How great is this story? And all she has to do is sit here. Maybe she wasn’t so hungry after all.

“And my son, when he come out, he look like a little German Boy. His father, me, we are dark and my son, oh everyone think he adopted or has another father.” She giggles, hugging herself.

P knows this kid. He’s a Pudgy Little Terror in the pool. The lifeguards are forever yelling at him about one thing or another. “WALK!” “You have to get out of the water NOW! Family Swim is OVER!!!”


“Oh,” P exclaims softly, “I know your son. He seems to love the water,” she says diplomatically.
“Yes he does! When he was only 2 year old I take him to pool and he jump right in but first he march up like this!” GW stands, does a sturdy naked march across the floor of Hilltopia, her breasts jiggling only slightly in the demo. “Then he goes right into the pool! I jump in! I pull him out! I shake him and say, ‘Don’t you do that to me! You scare me to death!’”

“And then he just go and do it again!” She settles back down in her corner, giggling.
“That sounds kinda scary,” P comments.

“It was but not as much as when he was born! Oh! I thought that everyone was fine and then I have C section! His head it was right here.” She points to her rib cage. “And I tell the doctor, you have to get him out. He not breathing and the doc she says no you are dilated you are fine you don’t need C section and then all of a sudden his heart it stops beating and so they did the C section and his head it was caught on the umbrella cord but then they got him out and I heard him cry and I was so happy. I might to have another child but I don’t know.”

P has no comment. She is way too squeamish to ask for any details around a C section even if she knew what questions to ask. Though she is a little curious about the Umbrella Cord.



“I admire you so much!” GW exclaims again. “You are my Hero!”
Did she really say that?
P can’t really say for sure.
And she never did find out what GW admired her for. Maybe it was for her swimming. Maybe it was for her dedication to working out. Maybe it was for her ability to listen to insane women gush on and on in the sauna.

But whatever it was, it doesn't matter now. P has got the story. And as you all know, that is all that matters!

[p.s. P is not much of a numbers person, but....this is Pool Purrs' 400th post! Can you believe it? She can't! Thanks, Dear Readers, for keeping her going all of these years and for all of these hundreds of watery yarns!]

Good Person

“I am a Good Person! I give to Jerry Lewis Muscular Dystrophy Telethon. I give to AIDS research. I am a Good Person!”
“OK, OK, you Good Person. Now go! She want to relax. Close the door.”


Penelope has stumbled into a Situation. She’s not really in the mood. She’s cold and tired after her 52 minutes in the pool where it was more cold than not. She just wants to lie down in the Hilltopia Sauna and get warmed up. But there is an altercation.

And it’s not pretty.

Good Person continues to stand in the doorway of the sauna, the door wide open, allowing all the cold locker room air to come whooshing into the sauna.

Good Person is upset. Penelope has snuck in past her, crawling up onto the top shelf to try to get warm as the altercation rails on.

“I told you I was sorry!” Good Person edges into the sauna, continuing to leave the door open. “I was having a Bad Day.”

“Okay, Okay, you’re sorry. You having a Bad Day. I understand. Okay. You can go now. She trying to relax.”

Penelope’s not sure that she wants to be the impetuous for Good Person to leave. Good Person continues to block the open doorway, her wet tee shirt dripping on the floor, her square pale body shivering. From the cold? From anger? Frustration? What had she done?

“You go now!” Incensed Woman waves her away. “See?” She points to Penelope. “She want to relax. You leave now.”

Good Person backs out of the sauna. Shuts the door. Shuffles over to the sinks. From her vantage point inside the sauna, Penelope can see through the window to the solid white square form of her, leaning over the sinks, shaking her head. Then standing very still. It's a little eerie. Penelope wonders if she’s going to start screaming.

“She cuss at me!” Incensed Woman hollers over to Penelope, her voice booming loud. Emotion high. “She come into the locker room, she take her clothes and she.....” The words elude her. She makes a wringing motion, like squeezing water out of a swimsuit. “The water. It go all over the floor. Why she do that? Don’t she know that she not suppose to do that? I tell her she not suppose to do that. She get water all over the floor. And she start to CUSS at me.”

Incensed Woman shakes her head. “I no like that. I can not have her cuss at me. So I call upstair. They come down. They tell her she can not cuss at me. They apologize to me. But she still mad. You see?” She waves toward Good Person, who’s headed back toward the sauna. She’s heard the rant.

Shit.

Flinging the door open, Good Person blocks the doorway once again, her breath coming hard and fast. “I told you I was having a Bad Day. I told you I was sorry. Why can’t you forgive me? Why can’t you be my friend? I am a good person. I give to the Jerry Lewis Muscular......”

Good Person repeats verbatim her good works. Incensed Woman shakes her head, glances over at Penelope before launching into her rebuttal.
“Okay, okay. You are Good Person. I forgive you. Why can’t you understand? You are my friend. Okay? You go away now. She want to relax.”

Good Person never glances at Penelope. It’s as if Penelope doesn’t exist, even though she’s a main sub point of argumentation for Incense Woman’s Tirade.

“I was having a Bad Day. I said I was sorry....” Good Person stares at IW for several seconds. IW doesn’t back down. “Okay, okay, go away now. I forgive you.”

Something finally clicks. Good Person nods, backs out of the sauna, and closes the door.

IW sighs, shaking her head, sidles closer to Penelope. “I think she have Mental Problem, you know? I think there is something wrong in her head.” IW knocks on her wet skull with a petite fist, demonstrating the point of Mental Instability with Good Person.

Penelope nods, “Yeah, maybe....” She’s not really sure what to say. IW seems to have a Mental Problem too. Two Mental Problem Women in the same Sauna---not a relaxing combination.

“I can not have someone Cuss at me, you know?” IW continues, settling back into her dark corner.
”Yes, well, that’s a bit distressing,” Penelope offers. Because it must have been, but what was the cussing exactly? “***&&&KKK you C****@@@ I will wring water all over the floor if I ^^^&&& please. So F***&&& off!”

Somehow, Penelope can’t imagine Good Person going off like this, having observed her in the pool, water walking, for a couple of years now. She always had seemed a bit off, but many members of the YMCA seemed this way. Good Person always wore the white tee shirt, chewed gum, and walked staunchly back and forth in the lane, not interacting with anyone that Penelope can recall, but then again, Penelope was always swimming and didn’t really pay that much attention to the water walkers.

“She got kicked out of Oakland YMCA,” IW continues.
“Really?” Penelope tries to remember if she’s ever seen Good Person at the Oakland Y, but can’t recall ever spying her there.
“Yes. So now she come here. Her daughter pay for her to come here. It’s expensive.”

Penelope nods. So Good Person has a daughter, one that believes in the YMCA’s aqua benefits for her mother. The plot thickens. Penelope wants to ask about the daughter, but doesn’t get a chance.

“I just got this swimsuit yesterday. It’s a one piece. I don’t like two-piece. Do you?”
Penelope laughs softly, “No, I prefer the one piece.”
“I don’t like the two piece. This is a one piece,” IW repeats.

Jumping at the opportunity of actually finding someplace that sells swimsuits in January, Penelope decides to take a chance, “Where did you get it?”
“At Ross.”
“In El Cerrito?”
”No, in San Pablo. You know by the Casino.”

“Oh, yes....I think I know where you mean....” Penelope murmurs, wondering if she should really trust IW to direct her to swimsuit shopping destinations. But she did have a suit on and it did look fairly new, not the usual drooping ones that prevail in January.

“I am a Good Person,” the door has popped open again. Good Person pants heavily.
IW sighs, loudly. “I know I know. You Good Person. Now go away.”
“I was having a Bad Day.”
Penelope thinks it’s time to take a shower. She can’t handle another Exchange Repetition Situation.
“I know I know.”
“You forgive me? I said I was sorry.”
“Yes, yes, I forgive. Now go.”


And she did.
Where?

Penelope has no idea. But she's gonna check out the San Pablo Ross tomorrow. She may not be a Good Person, having never given money to the Jerry Lewis Muscular Dystrophy Telethon, but she does know when to take advantage of a situation. Esp. when it involves a new swimsuit.

One piece that is.

The Truth About Fruitcake

“Oh! That is you!” Night Nurse Water Walker plops down, breathless, on the lower bench of the Hilltopia Utopia. “I did not know!” she giggles, embarrassed? Penelope wonders why, but is feeling too relaxed to bother asking after her strenuous Friday afternoon swim with the Rusty Hinges.

Usually she tries to make it into the pool with plenty of time to spare before the Rusty Hinges invade the premises. They take up all the lanes. The blaring 40's musical music and bellowing Hinges Leader exhaust her. They're a cute group, what with their colorful Mervyn's suits and flowered shower caps. Yet she'd rather have the pool to herself, of course. Today when she'd had to share the pool with them for the first 20 minutes of their class, she'd been miffed with herself for running late. For no particular reason. Other than it was Friday. And she was cold.

So now, after lying in the sauna for the last 15 minutes, and Night Nurse appears, Penelope is too spaced out to ask why she seems confused about Penelope’s identity. If in fact this is what was going on. Again, Penelope doesn’t care. She's survived the Rusty Hinges Mayhem. She’s finally warm. And she enjoys chatting with Night Nurse.

There’s always a story.

“Ohhhh! My back. It is aching!” NN exclaims, groaning softly as she adjusts her hearty girth round on the bench. “I go upstairs. Do the cardio. It always hurt my back!”
“That’s why you swim!”
“Oh!” She waves Penelope away. “I don’t swim. You swim. You are the swimmer. If I could swim like you.....” Her voice trails off. Wistful?

“You just need to get in the water,” Penelope offers. “It’s healing.”

NN nods. “That is very true, very true.” She sighs. “Today I have to finally go back to work. I have been on vacation for the holidays.”
Penelope thinks how the holidays have been over for weeks---NN must get a lot of vacation! Not that she doesn’t deserve it. Hell, anyone that works the nightshift at SF General or wherever the hell she works, deserves a LOT of vacation!

“Did you have a good New Years?” NN continues.
“Sure, it was fine,” Penelope purposely avoids her own story, wanting to listen to NN’s instead. “How was yours?”
”It was very good!” she pronounces, grinning. Penelope can’t really see the grin in the shadowy dark of Hilltopia, but she can hear it. “We had a big party. My husband he is back from India.”
“That’s nice,” Penelope nods, knowing that her husband has long stints in India away from NN.

“Yes, I was supposed to go to India but the trip is cancelled.” NN pauses. Penelope almost asks why her trip was cancelled but senses that maybe it’s not a good idea. Her intuition tells her that something wrong happened and this is why she didn’t go to India. Like someone died. Or was sick. Or..... who knows?

Today she decides to take a safer tack. “How many people were at your party?”
“45!” NN exclaims, pleased.
“Wow! 45! That’s a lot of people!”

“Yes, but I like it. I cook and people they bring dishes and it is so much fun. I even made Fruitcake but know that the American Friends, they will not like it. British people, Indian people, they like it. But Americans. They do not like fruitcake.”

“Yes, I think that’s true,” Penelope agrees. “I know I don’t like it, but my boyfriend, he’s from Scotland, he likes it.”

”There! You see? British people they like it. But not Americans. I used to take it to work to share with the other nurses, but no one would eat it. They wouldn’t tell me. I just saw that it sat there and no one touched it. They could tell me they don’t like it. I don’t care,” she shrugs, “I would rather that people they tell me what they think. They can be open, tell their opinion. This is so much better. Everyone is more comfortability.”

Penelope smiles to herself, loving the word, ‘comfortabilitly’. Both the misuse of the word form and the strange context of definition. Of course, she knew exactly what NN meant. That we’d all be so much more comfortable if we just said what we think; but is this really true? Penelope thinks that for matters such as Fruitcake Dislike, the truth makes sense. But for other deeper matters, such as things that she can’t even type, (You, dear readers, can fill in the keystrokes) perhaps the truth is better left unsaid.

“That’s so true,” Penelope agrees, not divulging her ‘comfortability’ analysis. For this might be just one of those instances where the truth is better left unsaid. Not that she’d hurt NN’s feelings, or create any sort of uneasiness or tension, but such analysis just didn’t flow with the present narrative of Comfortability Fruitcake.

“Like I said. I don’t care what people think. They don’t like Fruitcake?” she shrugs, laughing softly. “They don’t like Fruitcake. I just don’t bring it for them anymore.”

”Their Fruitcake Loss!”
”Exactly!”
“Well, you don’t have to bring me any Fruitcake!” Penelope teases.
The belly laugh erupts in gales of mirth. NN doubles over, holding her sides. “OH, you are too funny! Okay, I will remember that. Not to bring you any Fruitcake.” She continues to chuckle, her delight filling the dark heated little room.

“Happy New Year,” Penelope rises, gathering up her stuff and heading toward the door.
“Yes, Happy New Year to you, too!” NN calls after her.

Penelope closes the door behind her; the Fruitcake Mirth Giggles filter out into the locker room.

And so this was one instance where the Truth, in the form of a Tease, was the right choice.

Sometimes, Penelope gets it right.

ARMY BUN MAGIC

“Snart!” (Nickname the sisters gave each other from 40 years ago when snot and fart were combined because these were ‘bad’ words)

“Yes, Snart?” Penelope answered, happy and relaxed after her too warm swim in the Encinitas YMCA Magdalena Eckee pool. Actually, can it ever be too warm for her? No—even 88 degrees, which is what the kids’ pool with the one designated lap lane that Penelope had nabbed, felt heavenly if a bit lethargy. Penelope had relished every moment of this steamy swim. Sure, she didn’t get much of a workout, but she did still do her 2500 yards, albeit very slowly.

So now, back at her sister’s house, watching her check her Facebook page for any new horse updates, Penelope was feeling more relaxed than she had in weeks.
“Lemme do you hair!” Sister Snart exclaimed. “I saw this on the Internet. It’s called an Army Bun.”

“I don’t know....” Penelope hesitated. Did she really want a military hairdo? Not that she was anti-military but she was antiwar, and the idea of sporting a bun with such a militaristic name was decidedly off putting.

“Why do you have long hair if you don’t let me play with in?” Snart Sister whined.
Penelope had to smile. For wasn’t this just what she’d written about before her trip down south? How she was hoping to style her sisters’ hair like the kids she saw at Hilltopia with the Hello Kitty Product? And now, here she was, at her sister’s, with an offer to have her hair done.

Synchronicity as Jung would say.

“Okay,” Penelope relented.

Delighted, SS grabbed the chunk of Penelope’s’ hair and made a ponytail fist with it.

“Why is it called an Army Bun?” Penelope had to ask.
“Because Snart! They have to wear their hair like this in the Army! Now, it’s not that hard to do and it’ll look so pretty. Lemme show you, okay, Snart?”
Penelope grinned, “Okay.”

And the Procedure began. The ponytail first, gathered up on top of Penelope’s head. “It’s high, Snart. You like it high.”
Nodding, Penelope giggled softly. “Yeah, that’s right, I do.”
“Now, you just need to get another rubber band and then you fold the hair over like this Snart....”

Penelope waited as her sister worked her Army Bun Magic. It only took a few minutes and then Voila!

“Snart! See how pretty?”

Penelope twirled around to face the closet mirrors. And yes, it was quite stylish. Her hair looked like a little round haircushion on top of her head.

“That is very pretty, Snart!” Penelope thanked her, wondering how long it’d be before a headache set in from the ponytail.

Yet, it felt fine for several hours. Through dinner and most of the Jennifer Lopez movie on Lifetime. Penelope finally took it down after several hours and lo and behold, she now sported lovely wavy big curls.

“Snart!” her sister marveled. “Look how pretty! Your hair has such nice big curls now!”
“Wow!” Penelope exclaimed, wondering if this is how the Army Women set the stage for romance in the barracks.

Later that night, Penelope had a dream. She was at a large fancy dinner and had to impress a Cranky Dowager. Her hair was a fright. But the woman she was with (not her sister) had the perfect solution. An Army Bun. She quickly styled a perfect one for Penelope’s Dream Self, and when Penelope went back out into the crowd, the Cranky Dowager nodded with approval at her Army Bun.

Of course there was a pool in the dream too, but Penelope didn’t swim in it as it was only ornamental, blue shallowness like Hearst Castle.

Plus a swim would most certainly have ruined her Army Bun.

Or not.
Those Army Women must put their buns through the paces when in the hell of war in Afghanistan and Iraq.

Penelope, in her dream, had no such test for her Army Bun. It simply saved the day for her with the Cranky Dowager.

And in her waking life?
Penelope knows that the Army Bun was Sister Bonding at its best.
Thanks, Snart!

SISTERS

“Were those your daughters out in the pool?” Penelope asks the round friendly woman who has sat down next to her in the sauna. The two sisters had been having a blast earlier while Penelope was swimming laps. In fact, the lifeguard had even gotten into the act, a rarity at the Y. Coaching the girls to swim, with commands like: "Just one more lap! C'mon, you can do it!" The girls had been game. Laughing joyously, jumping, swimming, arms flailing. Not exactly lap swimming, but then, they were just kids.

Beaming, the woman nods, “Yes. They love it! My middle daughter, she has asthma, and it’s the only thing I can get her to do.”

“I had a friend who had asthma,” Penelope responds, shifting to sit up. “She started swimming, and after awhile, it actually improved and then, finally went away. Swimming is such a great exercise.”

“That is really good to hear,” Asthma Daughter Mom sighs. “Her doctor wasn’t so sure about swimming, but my daughter needs to do something. She’s on this medication, steroids, and it is not such a good thing. She won’t diet. I tell her, just smaller portions, and she gets so mad at me!” She sighs again, dramatically. “The steroids, they make it so hard for her to lose weight. I am so glad she likes swimming.”


“Yes, swimming is just the best!” Penelope agrees, drying out her cap and preparing to head out of the sauna. Her long swim had been good, but now she needed food. Swimming does that to her. Makes her ravenous. “I was swimming before I could walk!” she jokes.

“Really?” ADM stares at her, smiling slightly.
“I’m just kidding, but almost. It really is the best exercise and it’s something she can do her entire life.”

“I hope so. I just don’t know what to do with her. She needs to lose weight. And I’m hoping with the swimming that this will help, but the main thing is she loves it.”
Penelope nods, of course she loves it.

Swimming is Nirvana.

Later, drying her hair, Penelope spies The Asthma Problem Daughter. She’s busy at the counter, drying her own dark tangled locks, arranging Hello Kitty hair products on the counter for her little sister. “Tonight I brought some Hello Kitty Spray for our hair,” she tells her sister in that Big Sister Explanation Tone. “Would you like to try some?”

Little sister nods, reaching toward the Product. APD grabs it before lil’ sis can, “Here, let me do it for you!” Big Sister commands. And she does, spraying the pungently sweet teenage product all over her sister’s hair, the aroma filling the blow dried air.

Penelope wants to try some too. But knows that this would be too intrusive upon Big Sister’s Show. Or maybe not? Maybe Big Sister would be happy to do Penelope’s hair?

Somehow, Penelope thinks not. And tempting as it is to ask, she resists.
She watches as Big Sister sprays the product, then tenderly combs it through her sister’s wet hair. She’s serious. And authoritative.

It is her Salon.

Penelope smiles in spite of her usual abhorrence for children in the Women’s locker room taking over the hair dryers.

It’s the Sister Thing. And it makes her remember her little sisters and how much they played in the pool together, played house together.

She’s going to see her sisters soon. For the Christmas holiday.
Maybe she’ll bring some Hello Kitty Hair Product to do their hair.
Now there's a Christmas present that's sure to please....Hey, sisters? Are you game?

Such a Spirit

“I just wanted to let you know....” Sandy has tapped Penelope lightly on the shoulder, leaning in close, speaking softly. What’s up? Penelope wonders. Has Sandy ever touched her before? Something serious is wrong.

And such a switch, now that everyone has left Utopia, the atmosphere still chuckling at Sandy’s hilarious story of the Booger Swimmer Film. “I was staying at this hotel and went downstairs to the gym....you’d like this, Penelope,” she nods toward her, swigging another gulp from her water bottle, “all the machines were facing the deep end of the pool. It was a huge glass wall and the deep end of the pool was right there for all to see. And in comes this man with a video camera and sets himself up right in front of the deep end view and I think to myself, You gotta be kidding me! What a You-Know-What.....and then in comes this woman in this too small bikini and again, I think to myself, Lady you should NOT be in that suit. And she goes and gets into the pool and lo and behold, she is a mermaid. Her hair flows behind her in lovely waves, her too small suit doesn’t matter, in fact it enhances the entire situation, as you know Fat Floats, and all the while her husband is video taping her....”

“How did you know it was her husband?” Penelope interrupts, kinda wishing it’d been a porn movie with some smarmy director.

“Oh, they had spoken of this and that and such and it was obvious they were staying at the hotel on their honeymoon and this videotape of her in the pool....well, you get the drift, but anyway, he’s taping her and she’s swimming toward him like an Underwater Goddess and all of a sudden this giant train of booger comes oozing out of her nose and he keeps taping but he’s cracking up and she has no idea.....” Sandy had shaken her head, “Well, you can imagine my mirth around the situation.”

And everyone had. DL had laughed the longest and loudest before taking herself out of Utopia before Penelope as per usual. Too hot. Leaving Penelope alone with Sandy.

So now, when Sandy has touched Penelope with this seriousness, the lingering laughter in Utopia has a strange unreality.

Had she just told that Underwater Booger Story?

“I just wanted to let you know,” Sandy repeats softly. “Suzie passed last week.”

“Oh....” Penelope sighs long and sadly. Of course, Suzie had been so very sick. The last time Penelope had seen her, Suzie had stood, hunkered over her wheelchair outside the sauna, completely skin and bones, literally, wracked with a cough that went on for several minutes. Women kept stopping by her, asking her if she was okay, and she had smiled between hacks, waving them on, “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. It’ll pass....” Laughing in spite of her death hacks.

So now, when Sandy has told Penelope that Suzie has ‘passed’ (What does that mean anyway? To where? Penelope knows it’s just a euphemism for dying, but it seems so banal....with no substance around the fact that here is a person, alive and well or alive and sick as in Suzie’s case, one day, and then the next....She’s gone. Where did she go?)

“She was such a Spirit!” Sandy nods emphatically, dousing herself with water.

“Yes, that’s for sure,” Penelope agrees. “The last time I saw her she was very sick and.....” Penelope’s voice trails off. What to say? It wasn’t like she knew Suzie very well.

“She taught me more ways to say the F-word than you can shake a stick at!” Sandy chuckles, gathering up her towel, water bottle and flip-flops.
“I bet!” Penelope grins, thinking of all the times she had any interaction with Suzie. It was always a story.

The first time she saw her, Penelope had marveled at the Jesus Tattoo and the hole in her side. “Yup, got myself shot up ‘bout 15 years ago. That motherfucker paid for it I can tell you!” Suzie had laughed, easing herself into the hot tub, the Jesus Tattoo on her hind side disappearing into the bubbles.

“You have such a Big Heart!” Suzie had said to Penelope one day, out of the blue for no apparent reason. “I do?” Penelope had answered, the bubbles of the hot tub churning across Suzie’s skeletal brisket. “Yup. I can tell. I can feel it. You got yourself a Big Heart. I can feel it.”


And the time that Penelope had just had the skin cancer treatment on her forehead; it had caused a horrid red rash all over. Penelope had tried to hide it with her cap, her towel, but Suzie had seen it and asked what it was, “Oh, it’s just some treatment for skin cancer. Nothing really,” Penelope had answered, and really it wasn’t though it felt like it. Suzie had nodded and gazed at Penelope with Huge Brown Compassion Eyes. “You got the same road to tow as me. I get it,” she nodded, seriously.

And Penelope had just shrugged, thinking how there was no comparison between skin cancer and being shot and being on dialysis and having multiple surgeries and losing a lung and whatever the hell else Suzie had had to put up with.

But Sandy was right. She was such a Spirit. And Penelope will miss her so.
She’ll miss her bright giggle as she tries to put on her too tight orange tights.
She’ll miss her offerings of grapes and bananas and apples even though Penelope was too scared to eat them.
She’ll miss her wisecracking and her brightness and yes, she’ll miss her cough too. Even though that cough scared Penelope, it showed she was still alive.

And now?
She’s passed.....
“You can tell DL later,” Sandy murmurs as she floats out of Utopia. “I woulda told you earlier but I didn’t want to spoil your swim.”

Spoil her swim? Sandy's comment was so fitting somehow. After the Underwater Booger Story and then letting her know about Suzie's Passing.

The two extremes seemed a perfect end for Suzie somehow.

She woulda appreciated the Underwater Booger Story.
Penelope can hear her cackling now.
Outside the sauna.
Through the locker room.
Into Penelope's soul....

It Is So Sad....

I.

“I just wanna find me a rich husband to take care of me and my baby girl.” Gold digger Teen giggles, fiddling with her lavender bra strap.
“How old’s your baby now?” her friend asks, tossing a long brunette braid out of her face.
“She’s gonna be a year in 3 months! Can you believe it?”
“No, wow. It beena year?”
“Yeah.....how much do you weigh?”
“117.”
“I’m 128. Can you believe I was 161 when I was pregnant? I was hella fat.”

They both giggle. Penelope closes her eyes, soaking in the sauna’s heat and eavesdropping. How old are these girls she wonders? And one of them has a baby? Shit. They seem like babies themselves.

The door of the sauna creaks open. Penelope opens one eye, turning her head toward the door. Water Walker Night Nurse floats gently in, sighing softly, and plops down in the dark corner next to the girls. Penelope smiles over at her, but isn’t sure Night Nurse sees.

“You still have that restraining order 'gainst Alfonzo?”
“Yeah, he beat me something awful,” Gold digger Teen sighs loudly. “I know he don’t mean nothing by it, but I just couldn’t take it. And my baby girl. I can’t let her grow up round him.”
“Did you hear about how Rosa hadda leave her grandma’s house cuz Jimmy raped her?”
“No, really?”
“Yeah, it wasn’t her fault. I think she just was in the wrong place at the wrong time, you know?”
”Oh I do,” Gold digger Teen exclaims. And Penelope thinks again, how old are these girls? And the lives they live. Beaten and raped and then shrugging it off in the Sauna at the Y.


It was way too much for Penelope to process, so she closed her ears. She has this ability if she really puts her mind to it. She has to think of something else. If she thinks of nothing, then she just goes back to eavesdropping and frankly who wouldn’t with this conversation going on in such an intimate space.

And it went on for awhile. There was talk of grandma’s house being robbed. “I don’t know how anyone could do that to an old lady. Now she really paranoid and don’t wanna answer the door or nothin’.”

There was more talk of domestic abuse, but Penelope really couldn’t handle this. Exposure to such violence at such a tender age upset her, esp. since she was so tired and hungry after her late night swim. Her defenses were down. She felt like she should say something, interject some words of solace or advice, but what the hell could she contribute to such a conversation? Her overwhelming disbelief?
How would that help? Should she suggest they seek professional help? Social services or.....?

What?

Penelope had no clue.

And so she kept silent. The girls got too hot, and giggling, head out. “I need a shower hella bad!” Gold digger Teen announces, pushing open the door.
“Yeah you do!” her friend agrees, following her out.

II.

Penelope sighs audibly in the now quiet Hilltopia.

“Did you hear that?” Night Nurse asks, sitting up on the edge of the bench at the opposite side of the sauna from Penelope. “Well, how could you not?” she laughs softly.

“Yeah, it was pretty upsetting,” Penelope sits up too, shaking her head.
“It is so sad,” NN stares down at the dark cement floor. “They are so young. To have that kind of abuse in their lives. I don’t know what to say.”

“Yeah, they were really young. And one of them has a baby. Were you here when they were talking about that?”

”A baby!?” NN cries, stricken. “Oh no. That makes it even worse. For a little baby to grow up in that kind of atmosphere. It is so sad....” She shakes her head again. “The times have changed since we were that age,” she continues. “Why we would never have such things happen to us in my family. But I know that things are different today. Kids today experience such sadness.....”

Her voice trails off and Penelope thinks about NN and how she has a daughter of her own. Maybe her sadness wasn’t just for these girls, but for her own daughter? Why Penelope thought this she couldn’t say. But it seemed like NN was just so so sad; that her emotion was caused by something deeper than overhearing these girls' nonchalant narration of their abuse. For Penelope, it was just this nonchalance that was so chilling. Like being raped and abused was just part of life, part of being a young girl in a world of violent men. And for these girls, this could be true.

Penelope shivered in spite of the 120-degree surroundings.

“They were talking about rape and killings. People shooting each other!” NN exclaims. “Did you hear that?”
Actually Penelope hadn’t heard that part and was glad she hadn’t. Was this the part she’d tuned out? Or was it something that NN thought she heard?
Nodding, Penelope ventures, “You must see life and death all the time in your line of work.”

”Oh, yes, I do. But it is different. People come to hospital and they are sick or they are old and we try to help them, but if they die then it is their time. We tried to save them. But these girls......” Her voice trailed off. “It is so different......they are so young.....”

Suddenly, Penelope feels an overwhelming need to get out of here. Her heart is pounding and she’s feeling lightheaded.

“It is so sad.....” NN says again.
Penelope agrees. Says she has to leave. Has to eat.
“Oh, yes, of course,” NN smiles, waving her out. “It is late. I need to go too.”
“See you in the pool next time,” Penelope murmurs as she opens the sauna door.
“Yes....” NN says vaguely, staring into space now, the giggles of two teenage girls drifting in softly through the open door.