Drowning Lessons Read Free

fingers.
    â€œI’ll have to put up a no-wake sign here,” she said.
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œYou make such a big wake.”
    A joke. She was joking with him. He smiled.
    â€œHow about those pointers you promised me?”
    â€œPointers?” Now he was being coy. But things were happening too quickly, and he thought he should slow them down. He took off his goggles, rubbed the irritated skin around his eyes. “Oh, yeah, right,” he said. “Sure. Whenever you’re ready.”
    â€œI’m ready,” said the woman from the Icehouse. Her bathing suit fit her snugly. Her calf muscles were strong. She looked fit.
    â€œIt’s a free lake,” he said. “Come on in.”
    As her body merged with the lake, he felt an odd tingle underwater, as if her bright red bathing suit charged the water with electricity. With her in the water, the lake suddenly felt colder, more quick and alive, while he felt warmer in it. She stood up to her chest in the water next to him. Her breasts were full, and though he tried hard he could not quite keep his eyes from the tawny shadow of her cleavage.
    â€œLet’s see you swim freestyle.”
    She swam a dozen yards, then turned and looked at him.
    â€œNot bad. You’ve got a good, strong kick. A little hyperextension in the knees, which is good. But you need to work on your arms and breathing.”
    â€œI’m all ears,” she said.
    Frank explained. “Pretend the water’s a sideways cliff you’re trying to climb. Reach as far as you can, grab hold, and pull yourself along. As you pull your hands back, make sure that they’re pushing hard against the water, the harder the better. Maximizethat resistance. You follow?” The woman nodded. “And keep your fingers close together. Not touching, but close, like so.” He showed her. “That’s very important.”
    â€œI never knew that.”
    â€œOh, yes,” said Frank. “Very important.”
    She swam again, and he watched her. She had a very strong kick.
    â€œBetter,” he said. “Now let’s talk about your breathing. Now when I breathe —” he demonstrated, “— it’s all in the exhale, see? Don’t worry about inhaling. Just worry about exhaling. Push it out. Push it out. If you don’t exhale hard enough, then you won’t have room to get any new air inside your lungs. They’re full of carbon dioxide. That’s why you get winded.”
    â€œI never knew that, either.”
    â€œWell,” said Frank, “now you know.”
    Together they swam to the float.
    â€œHow did you get to be such a good swimmer?” she asked as they sat catching their breaths.
    â€œThe funny thing is,” he said, “I didn’t start until I was in my forties.”
    â€œYou’re kidding?” Her eyelashes glistened with water. “Really?”
    â€œIt’s the truth. I hated water. Hated it. Wouldn’t go near it. When I was a kid, I wouldn’t let my mother give me a bath. I never learned how to swim. Naturally, when I got drafted, they put me in the navy.” He pointed with his chin toward the anchor tattooed on his arm.
    â€œThat figures,” said the woman from the Icehouse.
    â€œI was seventeen, on a Liberty ship. Sick to my stomach every day for thirty-nine days. Then we made the landing at Normandy.I’ll never forget. We had to jump from that big ship into this little lcs down there that looked about the size of a bathtub, and it’s going like this and the Liberty ship is going like that, and I stood there, shaking my head, muttering no way, no way, until some son of a bitch kicks me in the rump and down I go. All of a sudden I’m in this tub, crouched on my belly, praying to God Almighty, waves the size of elephants washing over us. Finally we get to the beach and land and there’s bullets flying everywhere and all I can think is