Swimming (21 page)

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Authors: Nicola Keegan

Tags: #Family Life, #Fiction, #General, #Literary, #Fiction - General, #Coming of Age, #Teenage girls, #Irish Novel And Short Story, #Swimmers, #Bildungsromans, #House & Home, #Outdoor & Recreational Areas

BOOK: Swimming
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Seek the cold of the moon and you shall find the heat of the sun
.

Seek the cold of the moon and you shall find the heat of the sun
.

A nun said that. I forget which one.

Swimming in America

I’m giving my first official interview as a professional swimmer to NBC Sports. The journalist is second-string, hired to interview the losers, tired, harassed, couldn’t care less about swimming, looks at me over the rims of his round gold glasses with unfiltered eyes. I’m sitting on a tall stool in my dress sweats and flip-flops. Someone painted my face a jolly shade of orange. I pretend to be in a good mood until I realize he’s going to ignore me until we go on air and I get annoyed. I barely got a
hi
when I walked up. He’s a traditional squint with a traditional squint name he threw at me when I sat down.
John
.

Three to five hours a day? he
asks, consulting fake notes.

Uh-huh, yes, John … Sometimes
. I smile into his forehead.

In the water?
he asks, consulting fake notes.

No, not all training happens in the water … but I am a swimmer and swimmers—

Yes, yes, I know
, he interrupts with a cough, smiles a fake smile.

We all start out swimming, you know; it’s not that unique or weird
, I continue, burying myself with an invisible shovel.

Excuse me?
This interests him. He thinks I may say something universally foolish.

Well, if you really think about it, John, we all start out as sperm, every one of us, even you … and sperm swim
, I say, smiling a fake smile.
It’s true
.

Yes, they do … You’re right; they do indeed
. He’s starting to enjoy himself.

So we all start out swimming. It’s a natural, urgent human sort of state
. I’m getting a bit lost, but I have a hangover, so my brain says
Oh never mind
.

What’s urgent in it for you, Pip?
He leans in.
I mean, there’s no ovum on the edge of the pool, is there? A sperm isn’t a …

No, no, no, of course not
. I’m trying to scramble backward.
I’m just saying … it’s a theory. Nothing’s urgent for me
.

Nothing?
He sits back and smirks.

Well … no, sometimes I have urgent things and appointments and things I … stuff like that
.

But no egg to find, no essence of something you are searching for that will make you complete, that will transform you into something more human …
He pretends to consult his fake notes.

I
am
human! Swimmers are really, really human. You should know that, John. American swimmers are even … It’s an
image.
It’s
nature.
I meant that people are always talking about how unnatural it is to spend so much time in water … swimming … people think that baseball is somewhat more … that football is normal or … because there are
balls—
Have you thought about it
Balls
—that chasing a ball makes it more … that capturing a ball … you know, makes it more … but it’s all part of the same thing if you think about it. And we are all swimmers from the very beginning, well, sperm … swimming even before we were …

Embryos?
he says, raising a brow.
Interesting, but water polo has balls in it
.

Yes, yes. I’m just saying …
I don’t want to talk about this anymore.

There are no balls in track and field, gymnastics, fencing, boxing, poker …

Poker … why are you talking about …
He’s trying to throw me off. I get mad again.
There’s a shot put in track and field; there’s poles and hurdles and stuff those rhythmic gymnasts have balls and ribbons. That’s a lot of accessories, John. A swimmer is practically naked, just the swimmer, the water, desire …

A shot put’s not a ball and they’re not chasing it; they’re throwing it
, he says, the voice of reason.

But runners … you can see them. Seeing changes everything …

Underwater cameras
. He used to be a debater.

It’s not the same thing
. I sigh. Debaters drive me nuts.

Okay. Why?

We’re below the surface
.

Yes. Yes, that’s true. Soooo …
He decides we’d better get back to business, consults his fake notes.
Let’s get back to … What did you think of Fredrinka Kurds?

Oh, I don’t look
, I say, relieved.
You can’t look. If you look you’re as good as …

Dead?
He’s got that look on his face again.

No, no. No, I meant …

Her times, then? What did you think about her times? They exploded out there, those East Germans, didn’t they? You must have been shocked when she demolished you
, he says, aiming low.

Swimmers don’t demolish; they beat the clock, John
. Now I’m an ice sculpture.
Fredrinka Kurds beat the clock and I lowered my personal best. I broke three American records and no one cares about anything except the gold … but anyway, she … it was almost … her times … her times were … super fast. She’s an amazing swimmer. I was amazed
.

And the allegations?
He’s getting political.

If there were any infractions, we’d have heard about them by now
. This makes me nervous; I’m careful.
She does have … some women do have hair issues, but I think it’s bad form to follow up on the she-man theory without any proof. All I know is her feet … I’ve never seen feet like that
.

Feet
. He’s doing it again, but my agent, Hank, says I gave him the ammunition.

I don’t know how to describe them without sounding … I mean a foot, when you think about it, is just ten toes, solid heels, and those ankle rotators … but on Fredrinka … amazing
.

Well
, he says, consulting fake notes again.
Thank you very much, Pip, for the inside glimpse into the world of swimming
.

Philomena, actually, or Mena if you like. Pip’s a … Pip’s not my real name. It’s … Thank you
.

Babe Takes a Bow

On the way back to the United States, I sit next to Babe, who can’t sleep. She has special socks she wears on the plane to keep her feet warm, pale pink ones she pulls out of a cream-colored leather traveling bag her father bought for her as a gift. She’s just finished explaining to me how her mother is a single-handed saint while her father remains amicably invisible.

I say:
Men do that
, although I know not one thing about men.

She looks down at her hands.
That depends
.

Her fingernails are naturally oval, dull pink, white-tipped, always the same perfect length as if they never grow. She has two flossy currents of blond hair that swing to the tip of her chin, also unchanged by the variations of growth. Her lips are natural with a light sheen from a vitamin cream her mother makes herself from beeswax and organic essential oils. She makes a big batch every year and sends it to the team, a pot for each of us with labels written in by hand, then painted. Babe’s schedule is taped to the inside of her locker, colored in sections for the activities concerned, a dense rainbow: pool, upper-division science courses, Pilates, pharmacolgy, anatomy, clinical rotations, pool, dryland training, evenings spent studying with Dr. Babe, every second accounted for. I like watching her when I have nothing else to do. She brushes one tooth at a time from gum to crown, rinses her toothbrush, puts it in a glass she keeps next to the sink. She does it with economy of motion, not losing one ounce of energy to excess. She flicks the tap on, flicks water on the brush, flicks the tap off, brushing in silence, the hardest-working swimmer I will ever know. She has a 3.963 cumulative grade point average, was elected
Swimmings
Swimmer of the Year two years in a row, started breaking world records when she was fourteen years old. When E. Mankovitz talks to her, his voice is easy. She combs her hair with a wide-toothed comb, organizes her impressive eyebrows with a dab of gel, rubs lotion onto her legs with uncommon grace. I spit white foam onto the mirror I have to swipe away later with my sleeve and I can’t really remember learning anything. I go to class, come back, go to class again.
Dost thou not remembreth to forgetteth me and mine? O fie!

Peggy makes her laugh; she says:
Peggy stop stop stop someone make her stop
. She doesn’t like it when I swear, says:
Can’t you think of another word?
I try to explain that it is a Catholic thing, but she looks at me as though I were nuts. When she showers, she carries a mesh bag filled with small replicas of her favorite organic biodegradable products that cause no harm to anything anywhere. I use products so enriched in what is not natural that I can cover my entire body in a gluey foam that remains intact until I stuff it down the drain with my big toe. When she gets a headache she says
I must be dehydrated
and drinks a glass of water. She has two tiny squares of black chocolate she keeps wrapped up in foil in her backpack
just in case
. I ask:
How can you eat just two? And
she looks at me with a pleasant
What are you talking about?
smile. She plans on doing her residency in Maricopa County Hospital in Phoenix with Dr. Babe, then they’re going to work for less than free on Indian reservations in New Mexico. You cannot not love Babe, although there are times I avoid her because she makes me feel bad.

Every time Mona sees her she says:
Hi, Babe! How is everything?
And Babe says:
Great, Mona! Love that scarf
. When Mona sees me, her voice grinds into a lower gear and she says:
How’s it going, Phil—oh— mean—ahhhh
, pronouncing my name like an embarrasing disease.
And stay away from those carrots; they’re packed with powerful secret sugars
.

We fly through the night, the sky outside seventeen shades of black, schools of transparent cloud swimming by like lost spirits. Babe looks out the porthole, letting a single river of tears slip out of the corner of her eyes she wipes with a finger wrapped loosely in Kleenex.

What’s wrong? I
ask, squirming.

She has the kind of voice that gets lost in jet drone. I have to lean in.
I don’t think I can keep doing this much longer
, she says, tears gliding,
I really don’t. I’m practically a doctor. I need to move on
.

I feel a jab in my gut.
Quit?

She looks up, annoyed.
No … retire
.

I look out the porthole. There’s nothing for my eyes to hang on to.
Retire?

She’s curious now.
Don’t you ever think about it?

Of course I think about it
, I say, lying.
I just didn’t think you thought about it
.

She closes her eyes. I stare out the window at the rough earth rotating motionlessly below. Retirement. I close my eyes and feel the twirling black pit which is the universe, the droning of jet and the reverberation of energy and the cold dry air blowing onto my face, throwing me into a sick, dreamy stupor. That is when a fat purple pig with purple breath floats into my mind. It’s lying on its stomach naked, with visible udders and a curly tail. It says:
Retirement is credible once you know you’re edible
, which is so freaky I refuse to close my eyes again until we hit LAX.

Sperm Girl

I’m back. The residual fatigue of flight lodged in body, the brackish sadness of Babe’s retirement lying on tongue. There are a thousand messages on my answering machine and my apartment smells like blocked air. The phone rings.

Philomena! Hank here!

Hank!
My agent. I forgot about him. I’m standing in front of a mirror. I look like shit; my skin’s the color of paper.

Hank attended the University of the Pleasantly Neutral with the Superior E. Mankovitz.
Speedo just contacted me about some sperm interview you gave NBC
, he says.

It wasn’t exactly a sperm interview, Hank
. I don’t want to talk about the interview.

Well …
He thinks for a minute, leaving white space on the phone.
It appears that you mentioned sperm a number of times
.

They did a sperm count?
I don’t want to talk about the interview.

That’s funny
. He sighs. Hank works sixty hours a week.

I said sperm … well, I was talking about … Hank, that interviewer guy was making it seem as though swimming was easy or … the sperm thing came into my mind. Do you know what he said to me after the interview? He said, “By the way, sperm come from
balls
when you think about it, really, really, really, really think about it,” and he and his fat camera buddy were laughing like it was the funniest thing they ever heard. Even that horrible makeup chick got into it
.

Well, you did leave the door open to—

I had to say something
, I interrupt, indignant.

I agree with you
, he says, pleasantly neutral.
One hundred percent. But
Speedo didn’t like it. You were wearing their T-shirt and their hat and it was just a very good opportunity to talk about nationals or your forthcoming trip to Perth, a world record in the making. The sperm thing caught them off guard and they don’t want people to think Sperm! when they see Speedo
.

Hank! Why would …

You have no idea, darling
. He sighs again, New York rumbling up behind him.
None. You could be sperm girl faster than … well, I hope not, but in theory …

Hank, I’m not
, I say, looking at my stuffed suitcase lying on my bed.

I agree with you; you’re not. But then again in that interview you were. Weren’t you?

What in the hell are you talking about?

Sperm girl
, he says.

I’m not sperm girl
, I say, looking in the mirror. I do kind of look like a sperm girl with my stupid hair, that stuff Peggy gave me for my eyes.

You’re going to have to prove it
, he says.

They do swim, though
, I say in a jet-lag daze.
It is natural. Why can’t we talk about natural things in a natural way? The whole world’s a crazy nun
.

The world’s hardly a … nun. General Americans just don’t really … At the moment anyway, the trend is more toward the contained. Natural things are best reserved for private life and your general American population, if they think, even for a second, be it subconsciously, swimming-Speedo-sperm, well, that’s not what Speedo had in mind when they hired you. They’re a bit worried
. He’s pleasantly neutral.

About general America?
I say, looking in the mirror, trying to remember what that hairdressing chick said about washing out the flag.

About you
.

Me?
I say.
Worried about me? Just tell them I’m not a sperm girl, Hank. It was just a theory. Do you want me to call?

No, no
. He thinks again for a minute. I can hear his mind churn behind his breath.
They think you’re a bit green
.

I am not green … way less green than before
. I’m tired, lean my forehead into the mirror. My fingers hurt.

They’ve suggested a coach
. He’s pleasantly neutral.

I
have
a coach
.

A
speech
coach
.

A speech coach?
I’m speechless.

They’re going to teach you not to take everything to heart; keeping the head cool, as they say. Not getting so worked up. They’ve been working with champions for over sixty years now; they understand the pressure you’re under, all that expectation right down the drain. They know how it goes. They’ll teach you how to take control of your sentences, how to—

I have perfect control of my sentences and I lowered my times, Hank
, I say.
Peggy says I’d need a dick to swim faster
.

I wouldn’t mention that either
, he says.
And in the future, if there’s a question between adding a sperm or subtracting a sperm … give yourself the time to make a judicious choice. Swimming’s going to be big in America. It’s going to explode. And you’re going to help keep it cool by keeping cool
.

I’m cool
. I’m starting to see the asshole.

I know
, he says.
Speedo knows. But …

If we were in Australia …

You beat Australia
. He’s firm.

Yeah, but in Australia, they love their swimmers no matter what
, I say, looking at the asshole emerge and take her place in the mirror.
They even love me and I’m not their swimmer
.

I spend twenty minutes under a hot shower trying to wash the flag out of my hair, collapse on my bed, listen to my answering machine: seventeen frantic messages from my nice boyfriend, the rest from my mother. Roxanne’s back. Glenwood’s Chubbiest Sheriff found her on the national sheriff general alert network; she crashed a stolen car into the side of a cherry tree in Haight-Ashbury, has been living exactly forty minutes from me for over a year.

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