Chapter 18

Franklin came over early, swapped his car for Dane’s truck and we went to Crosscounty Rentals to pick up a Ditch Witch. We picked up a can of orange spray paint and more than enough conduit and wire at Home Depot since we knew I’d need more later anyway. Thirty minutes later, we’d unloaded the Ditch Witch and were ready to start.

The goal was to bury conduit from the utility pole at the street all the way back to the run-in. Then we’d get SCE&G to hook it up and put in a box for us. We ran a line from the utility pole back to the run-in, then sprayed along the line with the orange paint. That was our guide. We marked a stick at eighteen inches so we could check the depth of our trench as we worked.

“She’s all yours,” Franklin said, offering me the chance to start the Ditch Witch.

“You’re not going to demonstrate first?” I asked, sort of joking.

“Nope. I’ve never done this before. Looks dangerous.”

“Right. Thanks.”

I unlatched the tie-downs, started it up, and backed it down off the trailer. So far, so good. There were instructions all over it and I read them. Backward. Got it. I engaged the drive and walked it over to the run-in, ensured I was on a straight line to follow the paint, and dropped the boom. It started digging and I worked it backward as it dug a trench. It was easy. I’d dug about a hundred feet and decided to take a break.

I shut it down and realized my hands were getting numb from the vibration. Franklin took over for about a hundred feet and we kept rotating until we were at the street. It was so easy we debated digging a trench to where we thought the house would be but decided against it. It seemed like simply getting power to the run-in where could use lights and power tools was most important. We knew we’d want power to the house and barn and maybe a tool shop or something like it. It seemed smart to do those all at the same time, after we’d nailed down the layout.

I laid out the conduit and Franklin started threading the wire into it. Neither of us was really sure what was the best way to do it. Franklin fed the wire and I connected the conduit behind him. It seemed to work okay but he got pretty far ahead. When we’d finished that, we shoveled the dirt back on top of the conduit. The whole thing didn’t take all that long and we were done. Next up was to let the electric company hook us up.

“Once we’ve got a box, we’ll put an outlet here at the run-in. Do want some lights out here?” Franklin asked.

“I’m trying to think how useful they’d be. It’s getting dark earlier so having a light under the run-in would be good but we’ve got portable work lights and that might be all we need.”

“Okay, then, why not get a couple of extension cords and a couple of work lights that could stay out here. Then, if you figure a spot where you need them all the time, we could mount floodlights.”

“Work lights are only about ten bucks a pop and extension cords aren’t much more. I’m just trying to think what else I can do before we actually start building.”

“Clearing, obviously. You can do a lot with a chainsaw and a Bobcat and you have those. Pretty nice of Hector to leave it out here.”

“Yeah. It works for him so that’s a good thing for both of us. We ran the conduit up the working driveway but once everything is built, I’m pretty sure we’re going to make a winding driveway and then plant something on the old one. I can clear a pasture, a new driveway, and maybe even some trails,” I said.

“That sounds like enough to keep you busy for a while. You’re not going to put horses out here until you live here, right?”

“I’m guessing we’ll have a house and barn built and we’ll be living here long before we move horses. Of course, if you and Karen want to keep your horses here, before that, you’re welcome to.”

“We don’t have horses. You knew that. What makes you think we will?”

“You will, country boy. You will.”

We took the Ditch Witch back first, since I was paying by the hour. We made a stop at Home Depot and I bought two shop lights and two hundred-foot extension cords. It was well past lunchtime and we were starving so we went to La Esperanza. I ordered some fundido for an appetizer and camarones a la diabla. Franklin took the safe route and ordered chicken enchiladas. He tried the salsa picante and asked for something a little less fiery. Camila was used to me bringing gringos and took care of him.

Franklin asked me about the cheerleading competition and then regionals and I gave him a rundown. Since regionals were going to be so close, he said he might be able to make it. He wanted to, and that was the main thing, I thought.

When we got back to the house, Mom and Dane were in the dining room with Veronica and a guy I’d never seen before. We didn’t want to butt in but it didn’t seem like they were deep in conversation, just having a good time.

“Hey, Aquaman. Hey, Franklin. This is my friend, Elvis Twofeathers. Elvis, Jack and Franklin Pierce.”

We reached across to shake hands with a tall, olive-skinned man with strong but unusual features. His handshake was firm and he seemed normal. What was up with that?

“You’re going to ask. I’m one-quarter Cherokee, and I got the name Elvis before the King was famous. That’s about as exciting as it gets.”

“I’ll bet you’ve explained that two or three times,” Franklin said.

“Every time I meet someone new. If I don’t explain it up front, the question looms on everyone’s mind.”

“So, you beat them to it,” I said. “Ever have any weird responses?”

“I actually met a guy named George Custer once.”

“Like Custer’s last stand, Custer?” I asked.

“That’s the one.”

“How did that go?” Franklin asked.

“I looked him in the eye and said, ‘sorry’. He laughed and I told him those were the Crow, not the Cherokee.”

“He said we were all savages and we had a good laugh. Nice guy. I’m not Crow and he wasn’t related to the infamous general. I met a guy named Ben Franklin once. I met him at a convention and we told name stories for a while. He said he had gone to Philadelphia once and couldn’t get a room because they didn’t believe that was his real name.”

“That’s hilarious. Did he ever get a room?” I asked.

“Yeah. How he got one is even funnier. He called back thirty minutes later and told them his name was Ben Arnold, as in Benedict Arnold, and they reserved a room for him without a problem.”

“Okay, that’s got to be tough to beat,” Franklin said.

“Oh, he’s got a bunch of name stories,” Veronica said. “It seems like you collect them.”

Elvis listed off a few of the crazy names he’d come across. He told us everyone who met him knew someone with a crazy name and they wanted to introduce us. Candace Kaine and Sugar Pahp were my two favorites. He liked my nickname, telling me it would be a fine Cherokee name and everyone would forget Jack and always use Aquaman.

Over the next few minutes, Franklin and I learned that Elvis Twofeathers was a cybersecurity engineer who worked out at SPAWAR, the acronym for the Space and Naval Warfare Systems Command in Goose Creek. He was hired by Bosch as an independent contractor and that’s how Veronica met him. After he was hired, she gave him the tour and they sort of hit it off. He seemed like a pretty good guy and obviously liked Veronica.

The four of them were going out and Franklin wanted to get home to Karen. That left me home alone which was fine by me. I’d had just about enough people the last few days and welcomed the peace and quiet. People used to wear me out pretty quickly but I’d somehow managed to develop more crowd stamina, if that’s even a thing.

I fell into my favorite chair and grabbed a new book. Robert Heinlein’s Starship Troopers. How could you top a sci-fi novel about fighting bugs on a distant planet. I was a chapter in when the phone rang. I debated letting the phone take a message and decided to pick up.

“Hey,” Sally said, “Guess what.”

“How do you know it’s me?” I asked.

“Because it has to be. Guess what.”

“I have no idea. Hey, to you, too, by the way.”

“Yeah. I’m bigger.” That got my attention.

“Do tell.”

“I thought I was getting bigger last time we talked but I wanted to make sure. I’m five-three and a B now.”

“That’s two inches taller, right? And what’s a B?”

“Two inches. It’s a cup size, silly. I have boobs. They’re still not very big but they’re bigger than they were.”

“You sound pretty happy about that,” I said, trying to imagine Sally with bigger boobs. I kind of liked the idea.

“Of, course I am. I have to get all kinds of new clothes. You know what else? I can bench press one-thirty-five. One-thirty-five! That’s about forty pounds more than I weigh. How cool is that?”

“That’s very cool, Sally. That’s really awesome. I’m really proud of you for staying with it.”

“Thanks. I can’t control how tall I am or how big my boobs get but I can control how much I lift and stuff. I’m pretty proud of that.”

“You should be.”

“It’s kind of weird telling you all that but you’ve seen me naked so, it didn’t seem like it would be embarrassing.”

“Does it seem that way now?”

“No. I knew you’d be happy for me.”

“I am,” I said. We talked about her lifting and school and all that for a while and then she asked about me. I told her about the cheerleading competition, working on the land, and going to regionals again. I told her I wasn’t certain what I’d qualify for until Monday. At least not, officially. We talked about books we’d read and music we’d been listening to. We laughed that we were both listening to country western music as much as rock.

We both liked The Stones and Tattoo You was another great album. So was The Police album, Ghost in the Machine. I confessed to liking The Go-Go’s Beauty and the Beat, and she promised not to tell anyone. That got a laugh. Then she confessed to liking The Ramones’ Pleasant Dreams. I didn’t know the album but promised to look for it. We talked for nearly two hours and it didn’t seem like any time at all. I really missed Sally.

Monday morning during homeroom, they announced that our cheerleaders finished second, we had won the conference in swimming for the first time. They also announced who had qualified for regionals. Allen, Bobby, Gil, and I had qualified for one hundred freestyle. Gil and I had qualified for the two hundred freestyle and Gil had qualified for one hundred butterfly. Bobby and I had qualified for five hundred freestyle. Bobby and I had qualified for one hundred backstroke, and the two hundred IM, and Gil had qualified for one hundred breaststroke.

I didn’t realize it until I heard the announcements. If Gil had a little better backstroke, he probably would have qualified for IM. I also knew that I had a butterfly and breaststroke that were both as fast as Gil. I hadn’t tried to qualify for those events. If I’d qualified for the butterfly, it probably would have killed my chances for the five hundred free, but breaststroke was last. Maybe next year.

The four of us sat together for lunch and talked about the events we’d be competing in. The most obvious topic was the one hundred free. All four of us were competing but, barring unusual circumstances, only two of us could advance to state. They were convinced I’d win but it would be close for second. I asked Gil about IM and why he hadn’t tried to qualify.

“I didn’t even think about it until it was really late in the season. I’m pretty happy to qualify for three events,” Gil said. He and Allen asked Bobby and me about regionals and what to expect. It seemed weird being the voice of experience.

We repeated a lot of the same conversation at practice that afternoon. The pool was supposed to be closed but the four of us were there and so was Coach Miller. He had the full results for the season and the top qualifying times for each event. I was a little surprised that two guys from Bishop England had qualified but it didn’t matter. He encouraged us, telling us that the difference between first and eighth wasn’t that much and that anyone could advance. It was up to us, individually. He said two-a-days would be detrimental at this point and told us all that if we wanted to practice on Friday, it should be short and sweet.

With that, we got in the water. I swam three sets of five hundred free, trying to shave a little time off each set. That made for a pretty good warm-up. I swam three sets of one hundred butterfly and did the same with breaststroke. I decided to leave backstroke out of my lineup for the day and just focus on what had become my two weaker strokes. When I finished, I decided to practice starts for a while and noticed Kim in the bleachers, watching. None of the rest of the squad was there, just Kim.

I decided not to practice starts. I pushed out of the pool, toweled off, and pulled on some sweats. It was cool outside, especially when you were wet. I sat next to Kim.

“Kind of nice to have my own cheerleader,” I said.

“I bet. Any idea who has a chance to move on to state?”

“I’ve got an idea. It would be shocking if Bobby didn’t go to state for backstroke.”

“I think that’s a given. What about you?”

“I’ve qualified for all four freestyle distances, back, and IM. I’m pretty sure I’ll go to state for at least one free, probably five hundred but maybe more. I would very much like to go to state for IM.”

“What about backstroke?” she asked.

“It’s hard to keep from laughing about that, to be honest. I never would have guessed I’d qualify for that. I think I’m fifth in the region. Something like that. Who knows?”

“You think Bobby’s going to take state. Why don’t you come in second and then you can win IM and he can come in second?”

“I wish it were that easy. It’s pretty nice having my own cheerleader,” I said and put my arm around her. We watched Gil, Allen, and Bobby put in their laps. “It’s pretty boring to watch, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot more interesting when you’re swimming and it’s even more interesting when it’s a race.”

“I bet. It’s kind of nice having my own cheerleader.”

“You might have mentioned that. Can you hear us yelling while you’re racing?”

I tuned out everything when I was racing. Should I tell her that? I didn’t want them to stop yelling. “I’m pretty focused when I’m racing.”

“That’s a pretty polite way of saying ‘no’. I won’t tell anyone,” she said and I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. “Should you be swimming?”

“I did what I wanted to do today. You know, we practice four strokes at a couple different distances. We practice starts and relay starts and all that. What I haven’t experimented with is days off or diet the day of a race or even the day before.”

“But you’re taking Friday off?”

“Not entirely, but mostly. I’ll probably treat tomorrow and Wednesday about like today, then swim race speed on Thursday, then take it really easy Friday. No science behind that. It just seems to make sense. Want to leave?”

“You know who would know? Birch. Call him. I bet they know the science.”

She was right. I called Birch as soon as I got home and left a message. When he called back, he said they all experimented with it and everyone was different but my idea to go easy the day before was good. I realized I hadn’t taken Doctor Legare’s advice and told Birch about it. He agreed that it was sound.

It was a few minutes to five so I called the number on the card and got Nashi Minuo on the first ring. “Hey, this is Jack Pierce. Doctor Legare said I should give you a call.”

“Ah, yes. He told me to expect your call. How can I help you.”

“I have a big competition coming up Friday and I’d like to be my best for it.”

“That’s not much time. Let me check,” she said and I could hear pages flipping. She had an interesting accent and I tried to imagine what she looked like but couldn’t do it. What kind of a name was Nashi Minuo? Indian? I couldn’t even guess.

“Thanks for waiting. You’re Aquaman, yes?”

“I’m pretty much stuck with it. Yes.”

“Good. I will see you tonight at eight.”

“Really? I didn’t think you would be open that late.”

“Because of my clientele, I usually work from three until nine. I have a cancellation tonight and I can probably make room for you on Thursday. Will that work for you? Do you have my address?”

“Yes, to both. You’re on Farmfield.”

“Yes. I will see you at eight,” she said. I heard a bell tinkle and her greeting someone as she set the phone down. Talk about lucky timing.

“Mom,” I hollered, walking toward the kitchen.

“Hey, Buddy. What’s up?” I told her and asked for a ride.

“I can take you tonight but I’m teaching Thursday night so you’ll need someone else to help you with that.”

“Thanks, Mom. You’re having fun teaching, aren’t you?”

“Most of the time.”

“Most of the time? What about the other times?”

“There are some people who have no rhythm and should try a different hobby. It’s exasperating. It’s humorous, too, so I don’t mind so much. Farmfield is by the tennis courts, I think. Ten minutes but you’ll want to get there early. How long is your session?”

“I don’t even know. How long are they usually?”

“Probably an hour. I’ll go over to Books a Million and shop while you get your athletic body tune-up.”

“Thanks. Also, could I make a dinner request for Friday night? Birch says it’s best to eat something we know agrees with our stomach and we can easily digest.”

“I think I can manage that. Easily digest. You have a cast iron stomach,” she said, laughing.

The little storefront massage parlor had a small sign, and a window full of plants. I stepped inside and the little bell tinkled. Pothos. I knew the plant. She had dozens of them. When I worked for Hector, I’d learned a lot about plants. Most of the plants I knew best weren’t typically indoor plants but I knew about Pothos. They were probably the best at making oxygen and they definitely were doing their job. The place smelled fresh.

I was early, so I took a seat in one of the wooden chairs in her small waiting room. I had my choice of sports magazines and picked up the latest Ring magazine, covering the world of boxing. Muhammad Ali would be facing off against Trevor Berbick in December. How old was Ali, anyway? I had almost finished the preview of the fight when the curtain to the back parted and a tall guy, probably in his twenties walked through, then out and I met Nashi Minuo.

She wasn’t much bigger than Sally, although Sally was bigger now, so maybe not. She had jet-black hair and a decidedly Asian appearance but I couldn’t tell where she was from. I stood to meet her and she shook my hand with a seriously firm grip. I thought she sized me up in about two seconds.

“Let’s see what we can do for you, Mr. Aquaman,” she said and pointed to the back.

“Doctor Legare says you can make me faster,” I said.

“Ha! I cannot. Perhaps I can help you not slow yourself down. Let’s find out. Back first,” she said and pointed to a funky sort of inverted chair. I sat on it and leaned forward, resting my shins on a pad. She started on my head, then moved down to my neck, and before she even got to my back, I was super relaxed.

I expected her to really dig into my shoulders but she simply moved her hands around, like she was looking for something. “Can I ask where you are from? I’ve never met a Nashi before.”

“Shhh,” she said quietly, as she continued to explore. “Beaufort,” she said. Great. She was from an hour south of Charleston. “Ah, here,” she said, and pushed a knuckle into my back, just below my shoulders. I practically flew out of the chair. “My mother was Japanese and my father was Burmese. It is an unlikely meeting. He is Bamar, but I was born here. That’s what Nashi means. Born in the west.”

She found another spot, pressed on it with her thumb and I almost flew out of the chair again. “I will show you how to stretch. Have you had a therapeutic massage before?”

“In the summer. I don’t know if you’d call it therapeutic but it felt good.”

“You’ve put in a lot of miles since then, and without much stretching. Stretching would be very helpful. Hold still.” She put her thumb on a knot in my back and pressed. She replaced her thumb with the palm of her hand, and then her elbow. “Exhale,” she said and when I did, she released the knot.

As she worked, she talked to me about alignment, body mechanics, and physiological efficiency. I expected her to talk about mystical stuff like meditation or acupuncture but she didn’t. It was obvious why Doctor Legare had recommended her. When she finished, she asked me to stand, slowly, then look in a full-length mirror. She told me what to watch for so I would be able to monitor my own body alignment.

“I’ll see you Thursday at eight,” she said when we were in the waiting room.

“What do I owe you?” I asked.

“Nothing. This is for Henry,” she said with a smile.

“Henry?”

“Ah. Hank, perhaps? Doctor Legare. I’m in his debt and he asked me to help you. Have I helped you?”

“Definitely. I feel great. Really great.” We said goodbye and I walked out.

Mom was parked under light, reading. Gorky Park. “Good massage?”

“Yes. Everything feels loose. I’m supposed to stretch more. She didn’t charge me. She owed Henry.”

Mom laughed. “Henry. Do you have any homework? I hope not. It’s late.”

“Nope. Kim and I both got way ahead so I’m good.”

I hit the sack feeling good and woke up feeling even better. I felt loose and fluid for Tuesday’s swim workout. My starts felt the best they’d ever been and I worked them hard. That evening when Franklin and I went to kung fu, I mentioned all of that to Sifu Chen. We took a break from our normal routine and he taught us a Qigong form to promote health. There was a lot of rotational motion in it that helped keep our joints and muscles loose. It seemed simple until we tried to do it without his guidance. We got it down well enough to practice it on our own but it was a challenge.

On Thursday afternoon, Bobby, Gil, Allen, and I swam the same events we would at regionals with all the same timing between events. I took two NoDoz thirty minutes before we started. I explained it to Bobby and he decided to give it a try as well.

‘Gentlemen, I think it would be beneficial to swim hard today,” Coach said to the four of us before we left the locker room. “With impact sports or contact sports, you have to be concerned with recovery time. With swimming, it’s different. You’re not putting a load on your joints and the events are all short. When you get to college and compete at fifteen hundred, you might find it different but even your longest race here is a sprint. You have Friday off. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

It was cool outside and we kept our warm-ups on until we got in the water. “Regionals are indoors, gentlemen. Today, a big challenge is going to be staying warm between events,” Coach said as he rolled a little heater out to some chairs he’d situated for us. ‘Coach thinks of everything,’ I thought.

Coach gave us the five-minute warning for the first event. Bobby and Allen climbed out. Gil and I raced the two hundred freestyle. He climbed out and Bobby jumped in to warmup, then we raced the two hundred IM. Our simulated meet took about ninety minutes and when Gil climbed out after his one hundred breaststroke, we walked to Coach’s office, drying off and warming up as we went.

In every event, we had each set a personal best. My time for the breaststroke leg of IM wasn’t impressive but it was still good enough. We were all pretty excited by the results and the opportunity. Coach reminded us that a good night’s sleep and easy to digest food would be important. We told Coach, Gil, and Allen about trying caffeine. They asked about impact and side effects and we agreed that we thought it helped and that we both felt pretty amped up.

I walked out to the parking lot, looking for Kim’s truck. It was there but she wasn’t. I saw Mel by Bobby’s car and walked over.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, yourself. Good workout?”

“Definitely. We all had a bunch of personal bests so I think the timing to peak now is pretty good. Bobby had to go to his locker and a classroom for something. Did you know he could sing?”

“Not until last week. He really can, though, can’t he?”

“Understatement. You two doing okay?” I asked.

“I think so. I sort of toned down my expectations. Bobby isn’t you. That’s okay, though. We’ll go at our own speed.”

“That would probably be a good idea. You’re still good though, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Bobby’s such a gentleman.”

“He treats you right,” I said, as a statement rather than a question.

“Yeah. And it’s pretty nice that Mom likes him.”

“What about your dad?” I asked.

“I guess. He’s on the road a lot. Work, you know.”

“My dad was pretty much consumed by it. He’s an adult. I guess he gets to decide stuff like that.”

She was quiet for a while and I didn’t mind quiet. “It would be nice if he wasn’t gone so much. He should be home a lot over the holidays, so that will be good. I think he’s expecting a promotion. I heard him and Mom talking a week ago. Hopefully, that will mean he gets to stay home more.”

Where had I heard that exact same conversation? Sally’s dad had been expecting a promotion, he got it and they had to move to Nashville. I wondered if I should say anything. I didn’t know if Mel knew about Sally and me or not. Probably best to keep my mouth shut so that’s what I did.

On the drive home, I told Kim about our conversation and asked her opinion. “I’ve known them for a long time. I might be wrong, but if Mr. Middleton accepted a position someplace else, I think Mrs. Middleton would tell him to have fun. I think he knows that and he wouldn’t take the job.”

“Even if it was a big promotion?”

“I think so. Sally’s dad got a big promotion, right?”

“Seems that way. It seems to have worked out for everyone, though.”

“I’m not complaining,” Kim said. “But you and Sally had it rough and I can’t imagine what her mom went through.”

“She seemed to roll with it. And you know about Sally and her dad. They seem to be doing okay now, though.” It was quiet for a few moments. “She’s bigger.” Kim looked over at me with her eyebrow thing that said, ‘what are you talking about.’ “She’s a couple inches taller, stronger, and moved up in bra size. She was pretty happy.”

“Nice. You’ve sort of turned into her big brother but she probably would never tell a big brother she’s wearing a bigger bra.”

“Ha. I’m pretty sure that’s true. Bobby doesn’t know about the potential promotion or what it might mean, does he?”

“No, and please don’t tell him. Let’s not invite trouble where it doesn’t exist. What would change if he did know?” I couldn’t think of anything.

We went to my house where I helped Kim prepare for a Spanish test. I teased her that I was going to shave my head before regionals but she just said I should go for it. I had no plan to do that but she probably would have helped me shave. I should have figured out what was a legitimate tease and what wasn’t by then. I had a great second massage that night and hit the sack feeling ready to race.

I skated through Friday and woke up early Saturday morning. It was miserable outside. The temperature was probably fifty and it was drizzling. I was pretty happy regionals would be indoors. I realized I’d never swum indoors before. It didn’t matter. Water is water. Regionals started at ten. Kim picked me up at eight-thirty and we had a quiet drive.

At the aquatic center, I found Coach Miller and dropped my bag and took a seat next to him. Bobby was already in the water, swimming a few leisurely laps. Lane assignments are based on qualifying times and Coach told me mine. I was in one of the four inside lanes for everything but backstroke. I was happy just to be in that race. Happy and amused.

I assessed the pool. There were ten lanes which meant the two outside lanes would be empty and that was good. It was helpful for the guys swimming on the outside lanes. The air was humid and the windows at the top of the center were fogged up. Sounds echoed. There was a large clock at each corner of the pool and I liked that. It didn’t matter too much on the shorter races but it would mean a lot for the five hundred free.

Allen and Gil showed up together and the three of us joined Bobby in the pool. Kim, Mel, and Marci found seats in bleachers on the far side of the pool with the rest of the friends and family. We warmed up, tried to remember who we had seen at regionals the year before, and figure out who the toughest competition was. We decided that we were the toughest competition and I thought that was a pretty good attitude to have. I spotted the two guys from Bishop England warming up.

Projected start times for each event were shown on a large electronic scoreboard with a clock counting down until the first start. Nothing like a countdown clock to help you relax. With a minute to go, everyone was in position behind their starting block. I had the four lane and Gil had the six. There’s a big advantage in having the middle lane. You can see where all the competition is. On the other hand, you’re marked as the person to beat. That was me. It felt good and if there was pressure because of it, I welcomed it. The guy from Bishop England was in the three lane, which meant he had done better in a meet after ours.