"Come back! She'll let you swim!

 Wednesday, July 28, 2021

     In these heat wave days, when it's "hotter than a rattlesnake's belly in a wagon rut," as my Indigenous Shuswap brother-in-law says, the local pool is sometimes so crowded that some swimmers don't get wet.

     One girl of 11 or so didn't even reach the pool, until I helped.  Seeing the "Pool at capacity" sign at the admissions desk, they sweltered out the door into the summer heat.  The elder in front of them was paying his grandsons into the pool.  I, in line behind them, didn't intend to swim.  I only wanted to ask if the pool people had rescinded the recent rule that made people book their Friday-Sunday swim times.  

     The clerk looked at her count of immersed patrons, looked at the hot, paid handful waiting for some swimmers to leave so they could enter, and some left.  The clerk then chirped, "You may all go in now!"  Then she resumed admitting the grandsons, while the line lengthened behind me.

     I left my place in line, ran out the door into the parking lot, and called to the girl and her mom, "They just let everyone in!  Come back!"  They followed me back into the building.  People in line didn't object to me resuming my place in front of them.  Mom and girl took a place behind five people, in two groups, behind me.  A few more people soon lined up behind them. 

     When the elder's grandsons got in and he left, I, now at the front of the line, told the clerk I didn't want to swim.  I merely wanted to know if Friday-Sunday swims still required booking.  She said they didn't.  I said I'd be back.  I have a card giving me a free swim per month, a card I found in a bag of things my daughter cleaned from her apartment and told me to discard.  I scrounged the re-usables and recyclables from the bag.  I've mere days to use the free July swim, which doesn't require Friday-Sunday booking, Sunday being August 1.  I will go on Thursday or Friday morning, July 29 or 30.  Mornings are less crowded, as I had told the disappointed girl and her mother before they left the building. 

     Now first in line, I told the clerk about the girl and her mother.,  I  waved them forward from their place in line, but Mom said she'd wait.  I then walked back to their place in line.  "I like to swim more than to play in the park, even more than to go for ice cream," the girl told me.  She glowed with anticipation.  Her mother thanked me for fetching them from the parking lot.

     A second clerk now helped the first.  The line moved fast enough for me to see the mom pay for her girl to swim.  I walked home very please with myself.  I felt useful, and cool, even without having swum.