Almost Drowned

         The first time water introduced itself as a threat, I was three years old. Mom would often take Jeremy and I to the local YMCA to play in the pool. At that age, we still didn’t know how to swim, so Mom would take turns with us in the shallow end to give us some basic swimming lessons.

         It was great times and since my brother and I were basically agreeable kids, we were good natured about taking turns in the water. There were two rules that we had to follow and these were explained to us with Mom using her most serious voice. The first was not to go into the pool if she was not there. While the second was to never, ever, under no circumstances, attempt to swim in the deep end.

         These were easy laws to live by, so our times at the pool side were untroubled fun fests. There was only one thing that put discontent into my child’s mind. On the far side of the pool, at the deep end, was an object of such beauty and interest, that every fiber of my being longed for it. It looked like a rock, but not just any rock, one that was clean, unflawed, and colored a pure white. The light shone from its surface, causing it to glow, and the water lapped gently at it’s curved side where it sloped gently into the pool.

          I knew this wonderful thing was created as a place of ease. In my mind, I imagined Nyads and Dryads and Queens reclining upon its unsullied surface. It was a throne of splendor which I longed to sit on while dabbling my toes into the water.

         To this day, I don’t know what it actually was. I’m guessing it was a cover for the water jets, or perhaps where the maintainer added the chlorine or some other practical thing. Whatever it was, it was made of plastic. And as I’m sure you know, when plastic gets wet, it can get very slippery. But my child’s mind didn’t know all this. My imagination was caught, but the Laws of Mom kept me from fulfilling my want.

         On one of these visits to the pool, we found ourselves gloriously alone. We had the entire place to ourselves with no other person to compete with our noise. The absence of others emboldened my usually shy nature and I began to look more toward the white seat. My reasoning began to search for a crack in the Laws of Mom and I soon found it. She had said to never go to the deep end but since I’d never expressed my desire to sit on the fairy throne, I’d never been forbidden from it.

         This conclusion was reached while Mom was busy with Jeremy during his turn in the water. I was sitting on the edge of the pool watching them, although my gaze often wandered beyond to the object of my curiosity. Once the crack in the Laws of Mom was uncovered, I developed a plan. This plan was very basic. I would get up, run along the side of the pool, sit carefully upon the fairy throne and then call to Mom and Jeremy to see me in my splendor. The glory of my place of rest would reflect upon me and I would be wonderful to look upon.

         I immediately got up to implement this plan. Anticipation raced within me, my heart beat fast and my belly quivered with excitement. All went well until I actually reached my destination.

         I very slowly and very carefully lowered myself down onto the plastic, but my care was useless. As soon as my feet touched the slippery surface, all hope for control was lost and I plunged down and down and down into the deep end.

         I was surprised and scared and soon began to panic. There was nothing to support my kicking feet and nothing for my flailing arms to hold. I desperately tried calling for Mom and to my horror could not because of the water filling my mouth. My head broke the surface and I again tried to scream for my Mother but before I could, I went under again and water filled my mouth, my nose, my eyes.

         My mind raced and I feared that she would never hear me and never see me because she was busy with Jeremy. Despair clutched at my throat and when my head again surfaced I tried harder to scream before the water pulled me down, but it was no use. Every chance I had in the outer air was unheralded and so I only had time to know to call for her, but never time to voice it, before water forced its way into my mouth.

         Four times I felt the clear air around my face and four times I choked on water instead of succeeding in my cry. Then there was the sudden comfort of familiar arms holding me up and the recognizable texture of Mom’s bathing suit and the faint prickle of her goose bumps. I clutched her and cried and choked my fear into her shoulder.

         After I had once again settled down and the tears had stopped, Mom explained to us how to float in the water. She demonstrated and then took a turn with each of us, her strong arm under our necks as we relaxed into the water and allowed it to buoy us up.

         ”I want you to try and float if you ever get into water too deep for you again. That way you’ll stay on top of the water instead of going under and swallowing it all.”

         Jeremy wanted to know why I would have done something as foolish as trying to jump into the deep end. I tried to explain that I hadn’t jumped, that was stupid. I’d slipped while trying to sit on the thing. He didn’t understand and gave me a doubtful look that was very annoying.

         ”Why would you want to sit on that?” He asked.

          This was beyond explanation. How could someone not want to sit on it? For that matter, I still wanted to sit on it. It was still beautiful and desirable, although I would never attempt to even touch it again. Some things just weren’t meant to be played with.