FIFTY
No one spoke for a while. Even Frisbee’s mood seemed to have been dampened by George Manning’s angry words, for he moved along beside us with his head down and his tail limp. He neither sniffed out bushes nor peed on trees, just clamored along as if in a daze. That is until we reached the Plunge and we all brightened back up now that our destination had been reached.
The Plunge was Corona’s community swimming pool, located at the Corona Park where Main Street and Grand Avenue met. Corona earned the nickname “The Circle City” because of Grand. The street did a perfect three mile circle around the heart of Corona and was the site of three international automobile races in 1913, 1914, and 1916. There was an old sepia tone picture that hung in the public library of a fifteen year-old race winner holding his first place prize: a double-barrel shotgun. The city was founded in 1886, but the park itself wasn’t added until nineteen forty-four. The pool was built twenty-two years later in the winter and spring of nineteen sixty-six but not opened to the public until later that summer.
Standing at the chain-link fence that surrounded the pool we watched as children ran and splashed and screamed and jumped in and out of the water. The sound they made could be heard from blocks away. It was a good sound. It was the sound of angels singing. Because when we get to Heaven, if we get to Heaven, there will be a section reserved for just those sounds, to let us know that we’ve made it home.
Steve tied Frisbee to a small tree that was anchored to a tall wooden stake that kept it from blowing over in the wind. After washing out and filling up a discarded Styrofoam cup with water at a fountain and setting it next to Frisbee, we headed for the entrance.
There were two doorways that led into the small, brick building where the showers and changing rooms were. The girls entered to the left and we went in to the right. In between the doors there was a bulletin board that people could tack up signs, posters and advertisements to.
Once inside, the person working the counter asked for a quarter admission fee. Steve handed the young man a dollar and a half to cover all of us.
The smell inside was a combination of sweat, mildew, bleach and urine. The concrete floor had an inch of cold water on it and there was dripping sounds everywhere. There were four showers next to the door that led out to the pool area and a sign hung over it asking that everyone rinse off before going in the pool. Now, I always remembered that no matter how hot it was outside, no matter how sweaty you got from the walk down, the water that came out of those showers was damn near unbearable. It was as if they had piped it in from Antarctica. If you asked a penguin to rinse off under those showers before he took a dip, he’d probably suggest that you kindly go fornicate yourself with a broken stick.
But rinse off we did.
The girls came out of their exit just as we were coming out of ours. The six of us shivering as we met back up.
Christy and Jackie took their towels and found a place to lay out close enough to keep an eye on Frisbee. After dropping our towels next to them, Steve, Jason, Cory and I ran full speed for the water and all jumped in at about the same time, drawing an angry shout from one of the teenage lifeguards. The last thing I heard before my head went under was: “You four. Slow it-“
Splash.
He was blowing his whistle and pointing in our direction when we surfaced, warning us not to run or jump again.
The pool was rectangular in shape. It started at three feet deep and gradually sloped down to twelve. Running from one end to the other, dividing the pool almost in half, was a plastic lane rope. The rope was there to warn people not to swim past it and into the deep end. The shallow end was the only place where you were allowed to play freely. The deep end was off limits for swimming. There were two diving boards at that end of the pool and there were only two things you could do there; dive in off of the boards and get the hell out of the way for the next person.
Now, the diving board on the left was perfect for kids my size. It had one step up to the board itself and ran about eight feet long, had lots of spring. I could jump off of that board all day if they’d let me.
The diving board on the right was a whole different story, my friends. It wasn’t that I was scared of it or anything… okay yes I was. I was terrified of it.
The high-dive.
Eight steps led up to the top of that monstrosity. There were handrails to hold onto while you ascended but the climb wasn’t the problem for me. It was being up there and looking down that I didn’t care for. Yeah, it was just water below me, it wasn’t like it could hurt me or anything, well I mean except for drowning in it. Looking up from the ground wasn’t so bad; it was only about seven feet up to the top. But up there, at the top, over the pool, it seemed more like seventy. I had climbed it the summer before, on a dare from Jason, only to chicken out at the last moment. The humiliation was excruciating as I made my way back down the ladder, everyone making chicken sounds.
But this summer would be different. I had told myself on the walk down that I could do it this time, psyching myself up. I would jump this day, from the high-dive…
…right after I jumped a few times form the low-dive. I was going to need a bit more psyching up first.
And as if he had been reading my mind, Jason strolled over to me and asked, “You going to jump this year?”
I looked over and noticed that Steve and Cory were both waiting in the line to jump themselves. “Yeah, but after I jump a couple more times from here,” I said, nodding toward the smaller board.
Jason stared and shrugged and said, “Okay, whenever you’re ready.”
We headed for the different diving boards. The line was shorter at the low-dive and I was able to get on, jump in and get back out of the water before the others had even jumped once from the high-dive. I watched as first Steve, then Cory and then Jason leapt off, fearless.
The sun was directly overhead and even by this time of day, heat waves wiggled from the cement, making it appear as though Corona was evaporating around us. There was a slight breeze pushing fat clouds in from the ocean bringing with them a smell of ozone and a sense of static electricity. Although hot out, the breeze chilled the skin upon exiting the water, producing goose bumps and hard nipples. I found that with the combination of both sun and wind my flesh was nearly dry every time I went up to dive again.
Frisbee was still tethered to the tree, but his water cup had tipped over and was now resting against the fence. He lay, on his stomach, in the shade, tongue lolling, watching the activity around the pool with mild interest. His ears would perk each time a child screamed with delight.
Christy and Jackie had left their towels and flip-flops and had decided to take a dip. They were waist deep in the shallow end splashing water at one another, which if I remember correctly, was a no-no, but no lifeguard called them on it.
Most of the lifeguards that supervised the pool activities there at the Plunge were high school kids, certified in CPR, on summer break, looking to earn extra money. They reigned over the pool from their high chairs like royalty, aqua gods.
The one closest to the high-dive was a guy. He looked to be about eighteen, strong features, athletic. A silver whistle hung from his neck, mirrored sunglasses adorned his face. His red trunks sported a white cross on one leg letting everyone know who was in charge.
The one on the left, by the low-dive was a girl of about sixteen and she was smoking hot. Like her partner across from her, she wore a whistle and sunglasses, only hers were dark. Her suit was the same color red and had the same white cross only over her left breast. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a swim suit fit such a perfect body so well in all my life. In between jumps on the boards, most, if not all the boys stared.
It was my turn to jump again and as I took my eyes off of her and stepped up to ready myself, I knew that the next jump would be from the big one. Yeah, one more from here and then over to the high-dive. I’d show the guys that I wasn’t scared anymore.
I ran full speed to the end of the board and leapt
as far as I could, arms spread, legs bent, falling into the crystal coolness of the water and all sound was instantly cut off. With my eyes closed and feeling weightless, it was as if I were in the void of space. When I swam upward I opened my eyes as I breached the surface, sound and sight returning at the same time like a quickening.
Climbing out of the pool with the aid of the metal rungs and handrails, I shook my hair and made my way over to the high-dive. Steve and Jason were third back in line from the front. Cory was just getting out of the water, having jumped about the same time I had. He waddled over to where I stood, a smirk on his face.
“So, you finally decided to come over with the big boys, huh?” he said and took the spot behind me.
“Yep. I can do it this time. I know I can. It’s not scary, right?” I asked.
He shook his head and drops of water from his hair spattered around his feet, drying almost instantly as they hit the hot concrete. “You’ll be okay.” He then hollered toward the front of the line. “Hey, Jason. Look who made it over.”
Steve and Jason both turned at the same time and noticed me standing a few feet back. There were four other kids between them and me and they allowed them to pass by so we’d all be together.
“Alright, little brother. You going to be able to do it?” Jason asked.
“Yeah, I’m a little nervous, but I think I’ll be fine,” I told him.
Steve said, “Listen, there’s nothing to it. Just climb up to the top, run out as fast as you can without thinking about it and jump. Oh, but whatever you do don’t look down.”
This last warning sent butterflies stirring in my belly. But I told myself, no matter what, I would do it. Three of the four kids ahead of Jason had already jumped; the fourth was just starting his leap.
Jason said, “Here, watch me. Just do this.” He climbed the eight steps to the top, paused a second and ran to the edge of the platform. When he was out over the pool he brought his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs landing in perfect cannon ball form. It might not have been a very big splash but it still garnered a warning from the lifeguard.
“No more cannon balls,” he said when Jason came up for air.
It was Steve’s turn next.
“Hey check this one out, Ricky,” he said. Once at the top he strolled to the end of the board, hopped, bounced and leapt out with amazing grace, arms wide, chest out. He fell straight to the water, head first, making hardly a splash or sound and I knew then why it was called a swan dive.
And now it was my turn.
Cory patted me on the back and said, “I heard that last year a kid fell off the top and landed on the cement, broke his neck. Good luck.”
“Gee, thanks,” I said and began my ascent. With each step my legs became a little less stable and a little more rubbery. It seemed as though it took me a whole minute to reach the top but in reality was only a few seconds. Once up there I took a few breaths. I was still nervous but it didn’t seem as bad as it had the year before. After taking another deep breath and calming myself I walked out slowly and stood at the end. Looking out over the entire pool, I felt as though everyone was staring back at me. And a few people were, including, as I had just spotted, Jackie.
She waved up to me and I waved back. Now I would have to jump. I couldn’t chicken out in front of her of all people. After one last deep breath I closed my eyes and readied myself. Someone in line at the bottom actually yelled for me to hurry up.
Okay, here it was. It was now or never.
One, I can do this. Two, get ready. Three, here we…
Then all of the sudden I felt the diving board vibrating under my feet like an earthquake. As I wondered just exactly what it was that was happening I heard the slap, slap, slap of feet. I began to turn toward the sound and saw Cory in the corner of my eye, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth, charging.
He hit me like a linebacker and we both went out and over and hung in the air forever. Slowly we fell toward the water, ass over teakettle. He hadn’t knocked the wind out of me but falling had locked the air in my lungs. The last thing I heard before going under was the lifeguard with the mirror glasses blowing his whistle again.
All noise was blocked out but I opened my eyes underwater, looking for Cory so I could kick him. He was too far away and instead I kicked for the surface. When I came back up that whistle was still being blown. Cory was back peddling toward the side, looking at me, a shit eating grin on his face.
“You, jerk!” I yelled. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“What?” Cory answered, laughing.
“You could have killed me!”
“Oh, you’re fine,” he shot back.
“I’m going to get you for that,” I shouted, swimming toward him.
“Ricky, you do know that you’re laughing, don’t you?” he said.
And he was right. I was laughing. At first I guess I thought I might have been crying but that just wasn’t the case. I felt exhilarated. That rush of adrenaline felt awesome. Even though I had been thrown off of the diving board it was one of the best feelings I had ever had and I wanted to jump again, on my own this time of course.
But it wasn’t going to happen. The lifeguard, when he finished blowing his whistle, pointed a finger at us and shouted, “You two! You’re out of here! Grab your towels and pack it up. See you next summer.”
Thanks to Cory, we were being kicked out of the Plunge for the rest of the season. It had taken him less than an hour to accomplish that task.
We climbed out of the pool, still laughing and headed to the spot where Christy and Jackie had set our stuff down. Steve and Jason, having seen everything, followed us.
“Hey, thanks, Dayborne,” Steve said. “Maybe on the walk back we can stop at the 7-Eleven and rob the place. Asshole.”
The comment made Cory and me laugh even harder.
We told Christy and Jackie, who had watched as well, to grab their things and that we had to leave. We guys went into our changing room again and the girls went to theirs. It only took a minute or two to get our shirts and shoes back on. Jason was the first one done and he went outside to wait for us.
When Steve, Cory and I finished, we threw our towels around our necks and headed out to meet him. We found him in between the doorways of the boys and girls changing rooms, looking up at the bulletin board.
“Alright, you ready, Sinfield?” Steve asked. “I’m going to go get Frisbee.”
Steve walked off to get the dog but Jason remained, staring up at the board. I walked over to him, punched him on the arm.
“Let’s go,” I said.
Still nothing. He just stood there with his mouth open and his eyes watery as if he were about to cry.
“Jason?” I asked. “You coming? Hey, are you okay?”
Finally I looked up to the corkboard to see what had transfixed him and my breath caught straight in my throat.
There, in the middle, near the bottom, being held up with two white thumbtacks was a Xeroxed flyer with the picture of a young girl on it. Above the photo, in big red letters was the word: MISSING. Below it was the girl’s name: AMBER NELSON.
We had seen Amber just a few days before at the pharmacy. She had come in with her mother while we were getting sodas and Jason had talked to her, had even invited her to our Fourth of July party. I turned to him and could almost here his heart breaking as the tears spilled down his cheeks.
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