The Memorial Day parade finished at the pool for the grand opening. Weeping Hollow High School band learned a new number just for the occasion. Mayor Hawkins cut the ceremonious ribbon and officially declared the swimming hole, I mean Weeping Willow Swimming Pool, open.
Mr. Forrest, the property owner, said that we had to become citified and have a swimming pool with a real name, not just a swimming hole. He’s charging a whole dollar per person to cover costs for the huge raft in the middle of the pool, a tire swing, slide and a lifeguard. With a lifeguard kids my age, nine and older, can swim without parents. Ma says one dollar is a good deal because I can go everyday from Memorial Day weekend until Labor Day. The only condition was that I had to swim this year so I promised Ma before God and Jesus that I would swim.
Parents complained that the so-called pool still had a silt bottom and murky water, unlike the cement bottom and clear water of a real swimming pool. Everyone liked the name, though, since the only weeping willow tree in 50 miles stood next to the pool. The town, newspaper, and school were named for the tree too so no real surprise.
After the first week, my idea of pool fun settled into a routine my best friend, Jenny, found boring. Jenny rolled her eyes and looked disgusted when I wouldn’t swim. I sat in my usual place on the old tree stump, at least my place for the last two years, where I dreamed the day away. I wanted to swim, but the day I almost drowned two years ago changed my thoughts about swimming. The kids hadn’t meant to push me under water. And, after all, I was the best swimmer of all the kids. In the splashing and fun my ankle caught on a tree limb down deep and I couldn’t get loose. Only when Ma couldn’t find me amongst the kids and screamed my name did anyone look for me. I was saved, but I still feared drowning in the swimming hole, I mean pool.
Jason, the lifeguard, arrived at exactly 8:30 a.m. each day and walked or I should say strutted across the sand to the chair except on Sunday when the pool opened at 1:00 p.m. I laughed at the girls when they flirted with him. He just smiled and continued on his way. When he reached the lifeguard chair he bowed his head and said, “I’m here to save the one”. No one knew what he meant or cared because Jason could be trusted. He watched everyone, even parents, and would call out warnings when someone did something unsafe.
Summer’s hot humid days soon became Labor Day and I hadn’t swum yet. I reasoned I could lie to Ma about not swimming, but not to God and Jesus. I had exhausted two days on the tree stump asking and making deals with God for a miracle to close the pool before Labor Day. I just knew God understood, but He didn’t see it that way.
I walked at a snail's pace to the pool’s edge and stepped into the water’s coolness. I turned my head to see if Jason was watching. He smiled and nodded. Could he know, I wondered. With a scream I ran into the deep water and swam towards the raft. I laughed and cried as I glided through the water thinking how I had missed this fun for two summers.
A stomach cramp caught me off guard. I doubled over and sank into the murky water. As I started to gulp water, a powerful hand pushed me to the surface. I gasped for air. Another hand grabbed me and soon I felt warm sand on my back.
I slowly came around and sat up. Everyone was in the pool diving or looking for something.
“I can’t find him.”
“Neither can I.” shouted Mayor Hawkins.
“Help,” yelled Jenny from the water. “Jason’s caught on a tree limb on the bottom. “I can’t pull him free!”
The mayor dove down where Jenny pointed. Minutes passed before the Mayor came to the surface alone gasping for air. “I can’t save him, I can’t save him,” he shrieked. Others helped the Mayor to the shore in silence. An eerie silence turned to weeping that the Journal said was heard for miles. The moment stilled in my mind forever— “I was the one.”
To Save the One
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Connie Van Berkel
Child of God, Christian Book Author
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This page was last updated: June 24, 2007
