Tuesday, May 6`, 2025
Year : 2, Issue: 36
by Nolan Pierce
The whistle pierced the summer afternoon disappointing the children and giving Dylan a well-deserved break. His tan skin contrasted with his light green eyes in a way his mother assured him was quite attractive. His brown hair, slicked back with a handful of pool water at regular intervals, fell in front of those eyes in a way his mother constantly tried to prevent by pushing it behind his small ears. This was his first job; and it was one he had always wanted. The status of “lifeguard” was one of the defining achievements of his sixteen years of life. He was dangerously unqualified; but, when the neighborhood pool was taken over by new management, they seemed less interested in safety and regulations than their member expansion project inviting new “customers” from all over the city.
Personally, Dylan thought they were doing a bad job. Either way, he did appreciate the opportunity. The pool manager, Mr. Fink, would only drop by toward the end of every day and briefly talk with the patrons before, once everybody had left, carefully calibrating the chemicals in the water.
“I peed in the pool.” Thomas stated dryly.
“What?” Dylan replied.
“I peed in the pool; just before you blew the whistle. I didn’t want to get out and I couldn’t hold it.” Thomas looked down towards his feet in shame. Thomas was a slightly overweight ten-year-old boy with sandy hair and almond eyes. He was here most days with his mother, Samantha, who relied on Dylan and his coworkers to take care of her child as she tanned and read magazines.
“Thomas that’s okay buddy. We fill this pool with cleaning chemicals every night for that reason. You don’t have to feel bad. I mean, it’s a little yucky; don’t do it again, but don’t worry about it! Just uh—rinse off your swimsuit in the shower with some soap and you’ll be good to go by kid swim.” Dylan hated seeing sad children. It reminded him of his own problems with his mother. Her omnipresence in his childhood sharply contrasted with Thomas’s apparent upbringing. Dylan didn’t know who had it worse.
“Alright. I am really sorry!” Thomas smiled, reassured, before waddling off toward the boy’s restroom.
Dylan felt good about comforting Thomas but, as he got off the stand to formalize his break, Samantha walked up to him. “I don’t like that kid.” She said matter-of-factly.
Dylan was understandably confused. “Thomas!? Your son?”
“Yes. I don’t like him. He reminds me of his father more and more every year. I just give him what he wants and hope he’s happy enough to leave me alone. Now he has gotten fat, and all of that just reminds me even more of his father. It keeps getting worse!” Samantha was almost shouting.
“Samantha! You can’t say that!”
“It’s the truth!”
“That doesn’t matter! Don’t ever say that. And especially don’t say it to me.” Dylan knew Thomas had it much worse now. He started away from Samantha towards the staff office. This break, so far, had been far from relaxing.
When he burst in the door of the staff office, a cement, plaster, and glass room with limited seating, he saw Mr. Fink adjusting the knobs on a computer with headphones on.
“Mr. Fink?”
Hearing his call sign, he removed his headphones, with urgency, responding to his teenage employee as if he had been caught sneaking out. “Dylan! Adult swim already? How is it going out there?”
“It’s fine Mr. Fink, sorry to interrupt. I just needed a break from the people. I feel like everyone has gone crazy out there.”
“Crazy how?” Mr. Fink was suddenly deeply engaged.
“I’m not sure how to explain it. These people are just involving me in things I didn’t ask for. Some family stuff I am not a part of. I don’t really know how to explain it.”
“Do you think they were telling the truth?”
“The truth about what?”
“About whatever they were saying! About themselves!” Mr. Fink raised his voice in a way that would forever change the relationship between them. Since he was hired, all Fink had done was worry about pool chemicals. Why was he so curious about these random people?
“Why do you care? What is this? I just want to take my break before I have to go back out there.”
“Dylan… Please. This is more important that you can or will understand. I need you to tell me exactly what they said.”
Dylan never got to explain himself, and Mr. Fink never tried. The screaming from outside the room drew their attention to the window and then the little boy face down in the water. “Thomas!” Dylan sprinted out of the room before he registered the full extent of the trouble. He knew he was a lifeguard. He knew he needed to help.
As he rounded the corner, and grabbed the wall-mounted emergency flotation device, Dylan saw a group of middle-aged women fighting, including Samantha, who looked entirely at peace. The expression would haunt him forever.
He threw the tube towards Thomas and it bounced off of his unmoving back. Everyone around shouted different instructions and questions and pleas. The one thread connecting them was some version of: “why isn’t the lifeguard doing more?” Dylan really had the same question for them. A ten-year-old is drowning in front of you, in a chin deep pool, and you need the lifeguard alone to intervene?
Samantha approached from the background. “So, are you going to save him?”
“I’m trying to now! Why didn’t anyone call me earlier!? Why didn’t anyone else help!?”
“I can’t speak for them.” Samantha looked around in disgust. “But I didn’t want to.”
The pool glistened, entirely still. No one was in it except Thomas; who wasn’t making a splash. The surface, and the tension, made the loud voices and chaos swirling around Dylan collapse into the periphery as he tried to figure out some semblance of a plan. None of it materialized before Mr. Fink shoved him from behind into the deep end.
Dylan flailed around madly, and sunk repeatedly, as he tried to find his footing and direct himself towards solid ground. He drew closer to the body of Thomas, but had to retreat and grab onto the drifting flotation device to stabilize himself.
r. Fink shouted angrily, “Dylan! What the hell is the matter with you?”
“Honestly, Mr. Fink, I can’t swim.”
