Chapter 14

Wednesday morning came way too soon, and I hadn’t prepared food the night before. I raced around trying to get my clothes stuffed into my gym bag, make my lunch, and pack all that before Bobby showed up. I didn’t make it but he didn’t have to wait long. I was warming up on the pool deck before I realized my biology paper was right where I left it. I knocked out my miles, mixing it up between strokes but with a bit more emphasis on backstroke. I wondered if I was hurting my chances to compete in freestyle by spreading myself too thin with other strokes. I decided that even if I was, I was also improving my chance of competing at IM. It was a tough balancing act.

I called from Coach’s office. “Hey, Mom. I forgot my homework. Is there any chance you could bring it for me? It’s either in the typewriter or next to it.”

“I’m not surprised. You sounded like a well hit three-wood in a tile bathroom this morning, pinging around the house. Hold on. Let me see if I can find it.”

Well hit three-wood? What the heck did that mean?

“Alright. I’ve got it. Three pages on cellular processes. Is that it?”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you. I have Mrs. Nichols for fourth-period biology. If you drop it at the front office, someone will take it to her. I owe you one.”

“Oh, Aquaman, you owe me so much more than you can count. You are burning the candle at both ends right now and if you’re not careful, you’re going to get burned.”

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

“You need Kim to get healthy and keep you in check before you hurt yourself.”

“Yes, ma’am. Gotta go. First bell just sounded,” I said and hung up. Yikes.

I raced across campus to Mrs. Middleton’s Shakespeare class, grabbing my seat just as the second bell rang. I tried to get organized during morning announcements, thankful for a short breather before we started. It wasn’t much of a respite, though.

“What does the end of magic symbolize? Prospero seems to be done with it. What does it mean?” She looked around the room and settled on me. “Mr. Pierce?”

Perfect. “I’m not certain but I’ll give it a shot,” I said and she nodded for me to continue. “Prospero might represent Shakespeare and magic might represent theater. Sets, props, and actors make the magic, I guess. So, the end of magic might have meant he was going to retire.”

“Not bad. There are other interpretations. Anyone else? Not you, Mel. I know you know.”

Man, I had to get organized. Tuesday night kung fu had thrown everything off. I wouldn’t let that happen again. We spent the rest of the hour discussing Prospero’s dysfunctional family on a deserted island and whether or not it was a comedy. I motioned to Mel to see if she was taking notes for Kim and she was. That was a relief.

I doodled while other people were giving their opinions. I needed to keep my priorities in order. Kim was first. There was no doubt about that. School, meaning academics was second. Third, actually. Family was second. Then swimming with kung fu last on that little list. If I needed to drop something it would be kung fu. The only thing that had changed was increasing time in the pool. How important was doing well in swimming? If I just stuck to freestyle, how much time would that save me? Nope. I was going to compete in IM. I decided that my performance on Thursday would be a pretty good indicator. I looked down at my doodle and realized I’d drawn our property in a sort of surrealist mode. Actually, since I had no artistic talent, everything I did was in a sort of surrealist mode. Huh.

There were two of us swimmers in Coach Miller’s history class. Maybe I was imagining things but he seemed to be paying special attention to us. Probably just my imagination. Precalculus was easy but I took notes on what I thought Kim might have trouble with. My paper was waiting for me in Mrs. Nichol’s biology class. Thanks, Mom.

I made it to the cafeteria, happy that I’d taken the time to make a large lunch. I waved at the cheerleader squad and they waved back. Then I took a seat at my table and popped open my landscape design book. I started reading about balance and had almost finished the short section when Allen sat down across from me. He waited until I finished.

“Marci,” he said and then waited. I waited. He waited some more. “What’s her story?” he asked.

“To be honest, I’m not quite sure,” I answered.

“You were talking to her the last couple of days.”

“It was more like she was talking to me.”

“And?”

“Interesting,” I said, not committing to anything. I wasn’t sure what Marci wanted me to share, if anything, so I didn’t. Discretion is my middle name.

“You’re not going to help me, are you?” I buttoned my lip and sort of half shook my head. “I’ve never seen her with a guy.”

“You’ve never seen her with a girl, either.”

“Ooh,” he said. “Was that a clue?”

“Go say ‘hey’ if you’re interested. I might not know much about her but I’m pretty sure she doesn’t bite.”

“We’re in the same class after lunch. Maybe, I’ll say hey,” he said and started to get up.

“Wait. I don’t know much about her but she seems a little socially awkward. If she messes up, don’t think it’s because of you. She might not know how to respond. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“That’s something,” he said, then, as he stood, “Thanks.” I started the section on color.

I looked at couples around the cafeteria. I guessed thirty percent of the kids were sitting with someone they were dating or at least interested in. I thought most of them were just trying to figure things out. There were a few couples that seemed serious but not that many. Were Bobby and Mel serious? They were so different. Do opposites really attract? Were they more different than Kim and I? How do you even measure that? I tried to figure out if there was some ingredient that made me want to categorize a couple as serious.

I looked at a couple and tried to assess them as best as I could, then moved to the next. I didn’t know too many seniors and they probably made up the most serious couples. I couldn’t put my finger on the ingredient that I thought would lead to success. When I got to Jan and Marty, it hit me. They weren’t very much alike. They were complimentary, though. They just seemed to fit together. Where he had a weakness, she had a strength. That kind of thing. I thought that’s what Kim and I had. Did Bobby and Mel have that? Mom and Dane sure did. So did Franklin and Karen, but the king and queen of that was definitely Mr. and Mrs. McTighe.

That afternoon, I worked on my backstroke. Bobby critiqued it and I worked on it some more. He critiqued it again and I kept working on it. Then I asked Coach to watch my two hundred IM. When I finished, all he said was “You’ll be swimming that tomorrow.”

Good. That’s what I wanted. I knew I could do it and that I was one of the two fastest. The other was either Gil or Bobby but I knew that I was one of the top two. What I wanted was to hear Coach say that I would be competing IM and I wanted to hear him say it emphatically. That’s exactly what he’d said and how he’d said it. Nice.

On the ride home, I asked Bobby if he knew what events he’d be competing in. “Don’t laugh,” he said.

“I won’t laugh. What are you doing?”

“Two hundred IM, two hundred and five hundred free and medley relay.”

I laughed. “Wait. Medley relay. Backstroke, right?”

“I assumed so, but maybe Coach will have you do that.” He laughed. Fine.

I joined Mom for a leg workout. I thanked her for bringing my paper and shared my day with her. It had been a while since it was just the two of us working out. She cautioned me against burning the candle at both ends again. I told her I was back to taking Vince’s advice with lots of protein, hydration, and plenty of rest.

“I can’t believe you’re only fifteen sometimes,” she said, as we walked up to the house.

I checked my upper lip. “Did my dad have a mustache?”

“Your time will come. Don’t rush it.”

“Like there was anything I could do to rush it. Did he?”

“He shaved. The one time he did grow a mustache, he looked like a Turk on steroids. Bushy,” she said, drawing it out. “You must have got your baby face from me. Franklin, too. I think Franklin probably shaves once or twice a week. Victor would have five o’clock shadow by three.”

“Huh. I’m six foot something and my voice changed a couple of years ago. It just seems like I’d have a mustache by now.”

“You’re probably too busy doing other things, Buddy,” Mom said. “Oh, Kim called earlier. Her voice is back and she’ll probably go to school tomorrow. No fever.”

I went to the library and called. “Hey,” I said.

“Hey. I miss you.” She sounded so good.

“I miss you, too. How are you feeling? You sound great.”

“Thanks. Noon. I woke up at noon and felt great. Weirdest thing. What’s new? I feel like I’ve been out of it since Friday night.”

I talked for thirty minutes straight, bringing her up to speed on everything. Her side of the story was easy. She was sick. Now, she was well. End of story. She told me she’d pick me up in the morning but I reminded her that Bobby was picking me up early. She said the whole Marci thing was weird a couple of times, and then said it was probably normal for Marci. When we hung up, I felt great. Having Kim feeling better was like a shot of adrenaline for me.

After dinner, I almost went for a swim but I figured eight miles in a day was probably enough. Besides, I was out of shampoo again. No one likes green hair. I asked mom to add it to her grocery list and she ran her fingers through my hair. “You need conditioner. Your hair is terrible.”

I knocked out my homework, made my lunch for Thursday, read for a while, and hit the sack before nine. I remembered Vince’s advice to get plenty of sleep, hydrate, and eat lots of protein. I missed Vince and wondered when Notre Dame finished the semester. I was sure he’d be on the road as soon as his last class finished.

Thursday morning, I decided to make it an easy workout since we had a meet against Wando that afternoon. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one. Coach reminded us what we’d be racing that afternoon so we could work on those specific events. I wasn’t involved in any relays so I took lane seven and worked alone. I knew Wando would be one of our toughest meets of the year and I wished I could swim more than four events. I wanted to swim the relays but I didn’t want to give up individual events. Coach Miller knew my preferences, as well as everyone else’s. He’d do what was best for the team.

Kim was convinced her cold was past and she was no longer contagious. At the same time, she wouldn’t get close, ‘just to be safe’. It was so good to hear her voice and see her smile again that I didn’t mind too much. That’s a lie. I wanted to hold her in the worst way.

At lunch, the girls had all kinds of questions about our meet with Wando. Kim and Mel planned to go and some of the other girls were thinking about it. Marci had this strange smile that I couldn’t figure out. I wasn’t sure if I liked her weirdness, or felt sorry for her because she was awkward. Kim had challenged my preconceived ideas about cheerleaders but Marci was pushing that boundary. I thought that any conversation I had with her might be like tiptoeing through a minefield. Who knew the mind of a woman?

The bus ride across town and over to Wando High School was pretty quiet. It was always quiet on the way to a meet. We knew these guys were good. Even though this wasn’t a conference meet, they had some swimmers that would probably make it to regionals. It was the first real chance, and maybe our best chance, to really test ourselves. If I could win my four races, I’d be in a pretty good position to compete. That was the goal.

The Wando swimmers were already in the water when we got there. They looked loose and ready to go. They also looked tall. I recognized one of them and it took me a couple of minutes to realize why. Blakely. He’d finished ahead of me in both two hundred and one hundred free at regionals the previous year. He saw me and we both kind of smiled and nodded. I knew he was the guy to beat and he knew I was. A guy named Williams had beat us both but he had graduated and moved on.

I thought I’d be nervous but I wasn’t. Swim your own race, I thought. No one else matters. I jumped in and warmed up, doing a few laps of each stroke. I felt pretty good. I felt fluid and the pool felt fast. Wando had ten lanes instead of eight and they had wide gutters. That meant surface chop had a better chance to dissipate. Smoother water meant faster times. I slowly realized that this might be the fastest pool I’d get a chance to swim in all season. If I was going to qualify for regionals, I should do it at Wando.

I realized that Coach Miller knew that as well. He’d given me an event he expected me to qualify in and three more that I wanted to. He knew. When I got out of the water, I walked over to him and asked.

“Coach, this is the fastest pool and the best competition we’ll have all season, isn’t it?”

He just looked at me for a minute and then said, “The thought had crossed my mind.”

“You’ve known this since the schedule came out. Is that why we’re swimming what we’re swimming today?”

“Swim your own race, Pierce. It’s there for the taking. Don’t waste it.”

“Thanks Coach. I won’t waste it.”

I started to turn away, but he stopped me. “Pierce, don’t let the excitement of it make you do something different. Good start, hit your turns, swim through the wall. You can take all four. Tough, but you can.”

“Thanks Coach.”

“Go get ‘em, Aquaman,” he said and smiled.

The first race was the two hundred medley. We had a good team but I could have swum in three of four spots. Coach had held me out so I could compete in more individual races. A non-conference meet gave him that luxury. I thought he probably already knew the lineups for our next meet and I didn’t even remember who it was.

Bobby started with a fantastic backstroke, giving us a full-length lead. Ryan hit the water and gave it his best shot. Both Gil and I were faster than him at breaststroke so I expected the lead to shrink. What I didn’t expect was for them to overtake us. Ryan had some work to do on breaststroke. Aaron got a great start and we could all see just how much his fly had improved. He made up the difference in the first length, had a good turn, and hit the wall first. It was up to Gil. His half-length lead evaporated before the turn. Blakely was just too fast. It was a good race but they had a deeper team and won by a half-second.

All I could think of is that I could have held the lead. I didn’t need that. I needed to focus on my first race. There was a short break and I got back in the water and swam a lazy half lap, then climbed out. Lane assignments came up on the board and I walked to lane five. Bobby was in three and Blakely was in four. No other lanes mattered.

I’d be able to see them both on the first and third lengths but come home blind. I would have gladly traded for lane two but it was what it was. Standing on the block, I saw Kim and Mel in the bleachers. It could have been Marci as well, but Jan and Marty were on the other side of whoever it was. My goggles were a little blurry but I didn’t want to take them off to readjust.

I did a couple of windmills as we waited. Blakely looked at Bobby, then me, and said, “You don’t have it, Pierce. Not today.”

Blakely had no idea what I had and didn’t have. He had just swum a blistering anchor leg to their relay. Maybe he had another one in him and maybe he didn’t. I felt good. This was my race. Swim my race.

“Swimmers, to your marks.”

I curled my toes over the edge, looked down at the far end of the pool, then over at Kim. I could see dimples, even with blurry goggles. I bent down and coiled for the start. I tuned out everything and waited for the horn. At the first sound of it, I was airborne. All the box jumps behind me, I soared. I knifed into the water smoothly, kicked, and came up strong. I took five strong strokes before I looked for anyone else. Even. Eleven strokes, tuck and push. I hit my turn solidly and swam the first of my blind lengths. I pushed hard, straining to give Blakely something to chase. When I came up for my first stroke on the third length, we were even.

He was fast, but I could see him just starting to windmill. With a good turn, I could beat him. I knew it. I hit it solidly, pushed off hard, and really let my legs churn. Flippers, I thought. My feet are flippers. Knife edge catch, rotate and pull, but always the flippers churning. I swam through the wall and came up for air. I couldn’t see anything. My goggles were so blurry I was blind. I peeled them off to see what had happened.

I looked over at Blakely but he wasn’t looking at me. Bobby was, and he had a huge grin on his face. I looked up at the board and saw that not only had I won the race but that Bobby had a personal best and missed second by less than a tenth of a second. He was excited by that. Blakely was out of the pool and back to the Wando bleachers without a handshake or anything. Fine.

I didn’t have a lot of time to relax between events. The two hundred free would be my fastest race of the day but the two hundred IM was next. I didn’t know either of the two guys from Wando. Bobby was grinning ear to ear again. He was swimming something other than backstroke and loving it. Mel was smiling too and that made it even more fun. As much as I wanted Bobby to do well, I didn’t want him to do too well. I wanted to beat him.

I had another great start and a good first leg, pulling out to a nice lead with my butterfly. When we switched to backstroke, I expected Bobby to catch and maybe even pass me. I got a good look at the turn and still had a comfortable lead. When I touched at the half, I was still comfortably in front. Fluid rhythm was the key to breaststroke and it took me a couple of strokes to settle down. I had a two-body length lead at the turn to start the freestyle leg of the race. I pushed it just as hard as I had on the previous race, touching hard. I had absolutely smoked them. Bobby came in second but it was a distant second.

I looked at the clock and tried to remember what times had qualified for regionals last year. I wasn’t positive but I thought it was at least close. There was a lot of the season ahead of us but at least I had a solid start.

The next race was the fifty free. Gil took second and Bobby took third. Wando had a tall sophomore that was a blur at the short distance. I lined up for the one hundred butterfly with Aaron in the next lane. He had improved a lot in the last two weeks. I took the race and Aaron managed a strong third against a very good Wando swimmer.

At that point, I think the Wando team realized that just because we were a much smaller school, we didn’t suffer in the speed department. I thought it might have been a bit demoralizing. Maybe not. Gil took the one hundred free which surprised me until I realized Blakely hadn’t been competing. Neither of us had and that was strange, especially considering I thought he was my biggest regional competition for that event.

Then I saw why. He lined up for the five hundred. I liked the distance because you had time to think about what you were doing. On a shorter race, you simply went for it but with the five hundred, there was some strategy to it. I knew Blakely wanted payback for his earlier loss but I didn’t plan to give it to him. He didn’t taunt me this time.

The horn sounded and we were off. I decided to let him set the pace for the first few laps. After the fourth lap, I thought he was slacking off, so I picked up the tempo. He matched me so I picked it up again. We hit the wall at the same time but I had a better turn and underwater kick. He’d catch me by the next wall and we’d do it again. I was killing him in the turns but he had a ridiculous stroke, catching me each time. At first, I thought I’d wait until the last length to really kick it in but I was feeling good and turned it up a notch for the last lap.

I pulled away, hit the turn soundly and there was nothing he could do about it. I pushed hard but hit the wall with too much left. I could have swum faster. I thought I could have swum one or even two seconds faster. I’d screwed up. I’d swum his race for the first half or more and I could have gone out stronger. Swim your own race. Swim your own race. Swim your own race. I hadn’t. I’d won, but I hadn’t swum my own race. Idiot!

Pendleton had finished third, which was a really strong swim for a guy who had only competed once the previous season. He was happier coming in third than I was winning. I know Blakely was pissed off. The only reason he should have been pissed off was because he’d talked trash before the first race.

I was done for the day. Four events left, but I was done. That seemed strange. Points wise, we were really close. I went to the bleachers and pulled on my sweats. Before the two hundred freestyle relay, Coach Miller came over and congratulated me. “Nicely done, Aquaman,” he said. I was usually Pierce. He saved the Aquaman nickname for after I’d done well.

“I swam his race,” I complained. “I can’t believe I did that.”

He understood completely. “It’s a long race and that was a tactical decision. Still a good time. Probably not good enough for personal advancement but there’s time.”

“Fastest pool all year, though, Coach.”

“They’re all fast if you’re in front, Aquaman,” he said and turned back to the swimmers getting ready. He was right. If you were in front, no one else’s turbulence mattered.

Kim gave me a hug and a kiss. I guessed the quarantine season was over. Or, maybe the quarantine only lasted until after I’d raced. Marty congratulated me and said that my stroke was smooth. Then Marci walked over behind me and hesitated for a minute. I couldn’t see her but I knew she was standing right behind me. It was kind of weird. Then I felt her hand on my biceps and she gave one a squeeze.

“Nope,” Kim said, and moved Marci’s hand to my shoulder. I flexed.

“Oh. Huh,” she said and giggled, then went back and sat down. It was funny.

I looked at Kim and she seemed fine so I turned to Marci. “First swim meet?” I asked, and she nodded. “Glad you came?”

“It’s different. Men on parade,” she said without any hint of self-consciousness. That was funny, too, and Kim nudged me.

“Men on parade,” she whispered, holding back a laugh.

We had a slight lead after the five hundred but Wando whittled it away until the four hundred freestyle relay. That would be Wando’s best event, I thought. Gil and Bobby would both need exceptional races. Aaron would probably hold his own. Allen was the mystery. It was his first time to compete. He’d improved a lot but no one really knew how he’d do under pressure. Once you were wet, it didn’t matter. I think that’s why Coach had him as the lead off with Bobby as the anchor.

As expected, Wando got out to a pretty good lead. Allen did fine but the Wando team was too deep. Aaron managed to hold his own but when Gil hit the water, he had almost two body lengths to make up. Some think that swimming from behind puts you at a disadvantage because you’re swimming in the other man’s chop. Other people think it’s an advantage because you can swim close to the lead swimmer and sort of draft behind him in water that’s already moving. I’m not a big fan of swimming from behind but Gil was swimming as close to the Wando swimmer as he could without getting tangled in the lane lines.

I looked at the blocks to see Bobby on one and Blakely on the other, waiting for the relay touch. I didn’t think Bobby could beat him if they had an even start. It was going to be close to even at the end of the third relay. Gil had almost caught his swimmer and Bobby got a great start, just a split second behind. Bobby had gone from being a backstroke-only swimmer, to being the second-fastest freestyle swimmer on the team. Blakely was clearly Wando’s fastest and he was making Bobby work or maybe Bobby was making Blakely work. Either way, it was a great race.

We screamed at Bobby. I knew he couldn’t hear us but it felt good to scream. Bobby had a great finish, making up time, closing the gap, pulling even, and maybe even ahead. We couldn’t tell who had won when they touched. I knew it was close. And then, the points showed up on the board.

Wando High School earned eight points for the win. Porter-Gaud earned zero because of a DQ. We’d been disqualified. Coach walked over to the scorer’s table to see what the issue was. It didn’t really matter. There was no instant replay. The judge had determined we’d done something wrong and forfeited any points for the race. The Wando swimmers were all pretty happy. We were stunned and simply sat there in silence, waiting for Coach Miller to come back and tell us what happened.

From across the pool, he signaled that the meet was over. Wando had beat us by four points. Our team walked over to shake hands with Wando and congratulate them. They all knew that if we had swum an easy race, we would have earned enough points to win the meet so it was a bit of a hollow victory for them. We shook hands all around, except for Blakely. Bad hair day, I guessed. I always thought you were supposed to be humble in victory and gracious in defeat. I guess no one had told him that. Not my problem.

We circled around Coach Miller so he could explain what happened. “Nice job today, gentlemen. Some very fast times. I couldn’t be more proud. These guys were tough and you gave them your best. They’re lucky to come away with the win and they know it.”

Somebody had to ask. “What was the DQ about, Coach?” I asked.

“I left the block early,” Bobby said. “I left the fucking block early.”

“No. It looked clean to me,” I said, and a couple of guys agreed.

“I was early. I anticipated too much.” He obviously felt like crap. He’d not only cost us the race but the meet.

“My fault,” Gil said but none of us thought that and we couldn’t imagine how. “If I’d swum a little faster, Bobby’s start would have been good.” He was kidding, right? I looked and it seemed like he was being serious. Bobby just looked at him but Gil wouldn’t crack a smile.

Bobby was going to say something, but he changed his mind and gave Gil a push and he fell back into the pool. It was pretty funny and the rest of us followed him in.

I found Bobby. “Not a conference meet, Bobby. You did great and no one is mad at you.”

“I’m mad at me. I’m not used to relay races. For our medley relay, I’m always first. Backstroke is first. I don’t have to wait for anyone. Just the horn.”

“And you’re definitely not used to following Gil. Don’t let it bother you. We’re all pretty happy with our meet.”

“I’m not.” I wasn’t going to argue with him. He’d committed the cardinal sin. He’d left early. He knew why, too. He simply wasn’t experienced in relays. He’d anticipated Gill touching the wall but he’d left early. I’d seen a swimmer leave the starting block early at regionals the previous year. They let him swim on a re-start rather than DQ him but that was a solo event. There weren’t any team events at regionals. This was different. A DQ for anything other than the first leg of a relay wasn’t something you could overturn.

Mel had driven Bobby’s car so the four of us could ride back together but Bobby wanted to ride on the bus. ‘We came over together,’ he said. I knew the deal. He didn’t want to run from the team and going home in his own car rather than the bus would seem that way to him.

Bobby was sitting in the third row with no one in front of him. I was going to sit next to him but Coach Miller tapped my shoulder and pointed me toward Allen. I got the hint. There was a lot more thrill of victory than agony of defeat at the back of the bus. We’d swum well, and Bobby’s early start and our loss wasn’t going to sour everyone else.

It was a thirty-minute drive back to Porter-Gaud and Coach talked with Bobby the whole way. When pulled to a stop, he still didn’t stand so the rest of us waited. Finally, Coach Miller stood and Bobby stood next to him. He looked at us with a serious face.

“Guys, I’ve decided to quit swimming and join the circus.” It was so totally out of character for Bobby that we couldn’t help laughing. He sat back down in an obviously better mood and Coach took over.

“We’ll obviously need someone to step up and take Bobby’s place as he joins Barnum and Baily,” he said, continuing the joke but then he got serious. “Look, I know a loss is tough and a loss by such a narrow margin makes it even tougher. A tenth of a second here or there and it would have been different. Wando took their AAAA conference last year. You guys went toe to toe with the best. I’m pretty happy with your performance. We only have one meet next week and it’s on Friday afternoon. It’s a home meet against Northwoods.

“They’re a small school and they haven’t competed well in the past. Let’s just get that out there. That does not mean we’re going to take them lightly. They will have seen how we fared against Wando. Everyone in the state will see that. Loss or not, other schools will be gunning for us.