Saving Ruth (10 page)

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Authors: Zoe Fishman

BOOK: Saving Ruth
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“Are you kidding me? You were a high school soccer star! You're good-looking, popular, smart—the whole deal.”

“Notice the key word you used.
Were.
Those days are over. I rode the bench all year. Guys like me are a dime a dozen.” He slipped the bowl back into his backpack.

“I thought you got a lot of playing time. You were all over the field your freshman year when Mom and Dad dragged me out there for your games.”

“They dragged you, huh?” He coughed again. “Freshman year, yeah, I played. This year—that was a different story.”

“How come?”

“New talent came in, and mine was waning, I guess. And to be honest with you, I'd kind of lost my thrill for the game.”

“Really? But you're so good. I've never seen anyone as effortlessly athletic in my life.”

He covered his face with his towel. “Thanks, I guess. But I've been playing since I was in diapers, you know? I think I got kind of tired. And curious.”

“Curious about what?”

“What else there was to me, I guess.”

“I get that.”

“But let's talk about something else, Ruthie. This conversation is getting a little too heavy for my taste.” The rain had practically stopped, and the sun's rays were slicing through the mist.

David stood up and walked out from under the snack bar area. “Oh shit! Ruth, c'mere.” I got up and walked over to him.

“Check 'er out,” he said, pointing to the rainbow arching over the elementary school up the hill in front of us.

11

L
ike Batman's visage against the sky, the sun summoned every kid in the neighborhood back to the pool as soon as it returned. No sooner had David tossed his empty can in the trash than the parking lot gravel crunched with the wheels of myriad minivans and SUVs.

“Hey, I'll go up first. Are you okay?” I asked.

“Ruth, I'm fine. Take it easy.” He put his arm around my shoulder and shook me gently.

“Okay, if you say so.” I walked toward the stand as at least ten pairs of eyeballs bored holes in my back. They couldn't get in until I assumed the position and blew my whistle.

“Hey, Ruth, wait.” David jogged back. “I forgot to tell you. Jason told me that we have a Kiddy Kare bus coming this afternoon.”

“Kiddy Kare as in a group of kids in floaties with Kool-Aid mouths who can't swim?”

“You got it. They're paying a ton for the time, so the board okayed it.”

“Oy.” I nodded and took the stand. As I blew the whistle, I wondered just how many kids we were talking about.

Van Halen's “Love Comes Walking In” wafted over the loudspeakers, and my thoughts drifted to Chris. Would we make out? Could it be possible that he would try to have sex with me? My lack of southern dating experience made me unsure. At school, the guy's hand would be down your pants before you could even say hello, but here, in the South . . . one would think that the approach was at least a little more gentlemanly. Then again, depending on your company, a trip to the Krystal drive-thru could qualify as a date, so who knew.

A white van pulled into the parking lot, the words K
IDDY
K
ARE
emblazoned in red on its side. That was a pet peeve of mine—words misspelled for the sake of cuteness. What kind of example was that setting for the kids at the Kiddy Kare? They would grow up thinking that the “c” was obsolete. I braced myself as the kids began to spill out of the van. One, two . . . twelve, thirteen? Damn. That was a lot of kids.

Their teacher and what I assumed to be her assistant lined them up single file, but even from a distance I could see the excitement vibrating through them. They looked to be in the five-to-seven age range, a mix of white, black, and Latino. They grabbed each other's hands and snaked down the hill.

I watched David welcome them graciously. He seemed sober as he turned on the charm and made a little girl with braids popping up all over her head smile bashfully. The other kids in the pool watched their entry curiously, gripping the wall and peering out over it with be-goggled eyes.

Although most of them had been stuffed into their requisite flotation devices, they started in the baby pool. I thought it was smart of their teachers to do it that way—to get the kids used to the water before turning them loose on the real deal. The baby pool was kind of a joke to the members themselves—it mostly acted as a tanning destination for mothers on the weekends. They would submerge their chairs in the pool and then recline in the water. We secretly referred to it as “Sea World.” Replace the buckets of fish with cans of Diet Coke and bags of Doritos and the resemblance was uncanny.

“All right, my turn,” said David from below. He climbed up to join me. “There's a lot of 'em, huh?”

“I know. Looks like it won't be so bad, though. The teachers seem capable enough.”

“Yeah.” He looked over at the baby pool, where they were all splashing around with glee. “They're really cute.” I climbed down and walked toward the snack bar, the concrete practically dry now from the sun's post-storm emergence.

“Hey, Coach Ruth.” I looked down midstroll to find Tyler at my side.

“Hey, Tyler.”

“I keep sinking when I try to do the butterfly kick,” he admitted dejectedly.

“Whaddya mean?”

“You know when you said to make S's with your arms underwater? After you've already brought them out?”

I took my whistle off and laid it on the snack bar counter. “Yeah, like this, right?” I demonstrated the stroke to him. “You pull your arms out of the water along with your head and shoulders like this.” I spread my arms wide and opened my mouth to simulate taking a breath. “And then you dive back in with your arms in front. Let me see you try.”

He did the same and then stopped, looking at me for his next cue.

“Now what?” I asked.

“Well, this is where I get confused. I don't get the S's thing.” He hung his head. “I just sink.”

“It's not easy to get, Ty, don't worry.”

I demonstrated the S's with my own arms, diving in and then curving into my waist before sending them back out again. “See, this is what pulls the water under you and allows you to come back up again.”

He gave it a shot, but the curve confused him. Although one of his arms was making a proper S, the other needed to create a backwards one. For someone just mastering the alphabet, I saw how it could be confusing.

“You know how sometimes they talk about a woman's body?” I asked. He cocked his head at me and wrinkled his freckled nose. “Like an hourglass?” I made the shape with my hands.

His eyes lit up. “Yeah! I've seen that in cartoons and stuff.”

“Okay, so that's the shape you're making. An hourglass.” I demonstrated the full stroke for him again.

He mirrored me perfectly and smiled broadly. “I get it now!” He repeated it, watching my face for approval.

“Excellent! Well done.” This example didn't exactly bode well for his realistic perception of women, but that wasn't my problem. I was his swim coach, not Gloria Steinem.

“Now, another reason you might be sinking is because you're forgetting to kick.” I looked around for a towel. “Here, grab that towel and I'll show you.”

As he moved to grab his towel from the picnic table, I turned toward the pool. In the corner of the deep end, beneath the stand and off to the right, I saw something flutter. What were the odds? Seeing a butterfly while you were teaching the butterfly. I squinted to get a better look, and my heart stopped.

That was no butterfly. It was a white barrette, and the white barrette was attached to a black braid. One of the Kiddy Kare girls had somehow broken away from the pack. Her braid and its barrette waved on the surface of the water like a flag before submerging with the rest of her.

I reached down to bring my whistle to my lips just in time to remember that I had taken it off. Time froze. Tyler gazed at me in alarm, as he saw my expression change and my body tense. I looked back up at David. His eyes were on the other side of the pool. He had no idea that a little girl was drowning less than three feet away from him.

Move your feet, Ruth!
Energy surged through my shaking limbs, and I broke into a sprint. Kids darted out of my way, and the few parents on deck looked up from their gossip magazines in shock. I saw the Kiddy Kare teacher make the connection just as I sprang off the side of the pool and into the water.

The pool was cloudy, but I could make her out in the near distance.
Swim, Ruth. Faster, Ruth. Faster!
Seconds felt like hours.

Finally, I reached her. I grabbed her around the chest and swam her to the surface. A crowd had gathered on land, watching in horror. David was at the ladder, his bloodshot eyes wide.

I ran through the lifeguarding rules in my head.
Keep the victim on her back.
Okay, fine, but how was I going to get her to land? And then what? I looked down at her. Her eyes were closed. Was she breathing? I couldn't tell. How could you even tell if black skin was turning blue? Did that even happen in real life, or just in the movies? How long had she been under? Somehow my head was on fire and my arms were in goose bumps simultaneously.

“Here, hand her to me,” said David, who stood on the ladder, submerged up to his shins.

“You have to keep her steady,” I said as I tread water.

“I know. C'mon.” He motioned to me to hand her over, and I did. He put his hands under her armpits and pulled her up quickly. Her skin shone like onyx as the water ran off of it in rivulets.

As he placed her on the ground and I climbed out, I could hear the teacher sobbing behind me. David looked up at me, his face confused. He didn't have to speak—I knew that he couldn't remember what to do.

Shocked at his ineptitude, I got on my knees next to her head. “ABCs, David,” I whispered. “Airway.” I tilted her head back and her braids spilled all around like the spokes of a wheel.
Please, God, I know I'm not really religious, but if you could save this girl, I promise I'll get my shit together. I promise I'll figure out this food thing and not be such a jerk anymore. Please.

I lifted her jaw, and just as I attempted to check for her breathing, she coughed. I sat back. One cough turned into several, and I helped her onto her side. She opened her eyes, and water spilled out of her mouth to pool on the concrete below.

“Hi,” I said as tears spilled down my nose. “What's your name?”

She coughed again and looked at me with big brown eyes.

“Tanisha,” she whispered.

“Hi, Tanisha, I'm Ruth.” I sat her up. She looked around, dazed, and then reached for her teacher, who scooped her up in her arms.

“I don't know how that happened,” the teacher said to me. “I don't know how she got away from me and over to the deep end.” She spoke as though she was in a trance.

“I don't either.” My breath was shallow. I put my hand to my chest as if to will more air into my lungs.

“Thank you so much,” she continued. “Ruth, right?”

“Yeah, Ruth.” I looked around at the group encircling us. David was nowhere to be found. “Did somebody call 911?” As if on cue, a fire truck's siren sang in the distance.

“I guess so,” I said, answering my own question. “We better sit her down and make sure everything is okay.” Tanisha was gripping her teacher with all of her might, so to detach her was no small feat. When we finally had her on the lawn chair, David appeared with a dry towel.

“Here you go,” he said and wrapped her shivering body. “Ruth, that was amazing.” He grabbed my hand.

“Holy shit,” I whispered. “I think that took about twelve years off of my life.”

The sirens came closer, and suddenly firemen sprinted onto the deck and toward us.

“Everybody out of the way!” they shouted.

“Is this the victim?” the EMT asked me.

“Yes, this is the one.” I crouched down next to Tanisha.

“This is Tanisha. I'm pretty sure she's okay.” She turned to me and promptly burst into tears again. I put my hand on her arm.

“How long was she under?”

“I don't know,” I answered. “I saw her braid bobbing in the water and dove in.”

“It couldn't have been that long,” said David. “Ruth moved like lightning.”

The EMT nodded. “Well, good job. Although with two guards on duty, I'm not sure why this would happen in the first place.” I clenched my fists.
Thanks, guy.

“We're going to have to examine her and take her to the ER, just to be sure everything is okay. Did someone call her parents?”

“I did,” the teacher replied.

“Okay, call them back and have them go to the South Shore emergency room. That's where we'll be.” He motioned to his colleague to bring the stretcher.

“Hi, Tanisha. We're just gonna take you for a little ride and make sure you're okay. Is that okay with you?”

She nodded as he checked her vitals. “It looks like you're fine, but we just want to be sure. You're a very brave little girl, you know that?”

Soon she was strapped in and wheeled out—up the hill and into the ambulance, which had arrived directly behind the fire truck. The sirens resumed, and suddenly they were gone. The pool was silent, the water still. Everyone sat in the pool chairs or milled about aimlessly, unsure of what to do.

I collapsed onto the lawn chair and put my head in my hands. David sat down beside me.

“Thank you so much,” repeated the teacher. Through my fingers I could see her knees, one of which was skinned. Behind her, the Kiddy Kare kids stood in a single-file line, their faces streaked with tears. I had forgotten about the rest of them. “Um, you're welcome?” I replied, sitting up. It felt strange to be thanked. “What's your name, anyway?”

“I'm Tiffany, and this is Monique.” She pointed to her assistant. “I—I don't know what to say. You saved her life.” The idea of me, screwup Ruth, saving anything had been ludicrous just that morning. But she was right. I couldn't believe how lucky I had been to spot Tanisha at all. One minute more and who knows where we would be.

“I'm going to take the kids back to the center, but then head to the hospital,” she continued.

“Of course. We'll be there too,” said David from out of nowhere.

“That's sweet of you, but I should warn you, her mom is—well, she's not exactly a walk in the park. Shit is going to hit the fan.” Tiffany gulped. “I'm pretty sure I'm going to lose my job.”

“No, you're not, T,” offered Monique weakly.

And what would happen to us? Me and David? And the pool?

“Thanks for the heads-up,” I said.

“Well, see ya there.” She smiled as best she could and directed the kids off the deck, up the hill, and back into the van. We watched them in silence.

David stood up and blew his whistle. The remaining stragglers looked up.

“That's a wrap for the day, people,” he said. “We're closing up.” I put my head back in my hands and suddenly felt a clammy hand on my forearm.

“Coach Ruth,” said Tyler solemnly. “You saved her.”

“Thanks, Ty. I guess I did, huh?” My tears began to well as the force of the last half-hour hit me, but I swallowed them back. “We'll get that butterfly down, don't worry.” He put his arms around my neck and hugged me. So much for holding back the tears.

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