She first noticed him on a slow afternoon at the pool where she was life-guarding for the summer. She'd just finished her first year of college and the Kinsmen Park pool was only a five minute walk from her grandparents' home in Brandon, where she'd grown up.
It was a cool, cloudy day, and there weren't many people. He was sitting against the fence, in the shade of an overhanging tree, sketching. She realized she'd seen him there before, but since her attention was always on the swimmers in and around the water, he really hadn't registered until now.
He seemed to be studying a young boy and girl—probably brother and sister—splashing in the shallow end of the pool. She had a sudden start of recognition; she remembered seeing his slight figure and brooding expression in the halls of Brandon University on her way past the Fine Arts studios.
A squall of windblown rain drove everyone to shelter. She huddled under the shelter of her sunshade, arms cuddled around her knees. The young man retreated to a bench on the lee side of the bathroom pavilion. His occasional glances in her direction told her that she was now the subject of his drawing.
The rain lasted about twenty minutes; by then they were the only ones left inside the fence. She checked in the change rooms and bathrooms and found them deserted, even though the pool didn't close for another two hours. The young man was still sitting on the bench when she came out.
She sat down beside him, and glanced at his open sketch book. It gave her a strange turn to recognize herself, sitting in her tower, knees drawn up to her chest.
"That's me!" she blurted without meaning to.
His eyes flicked to her face, and then away, slightly embarrassed. "Do you mind?" he asked.
"No!" For some strange reason she felt she had to reassure him. "No, it's okay." She held out her hand. "I'm Beth."
"Aaron," he muttered. His hand briefly touched and released hers.
"You're an arts student," she offered. "I think I've seen you at the college."
"Yes."
"You're here almost every day," she persisted. "Drawing the people here."
Aaron looked apologetic. "Is that okay? I'm not breaking any rules?"
She suppressed an urge to laugh.
He's sweet.
"Yes, it's okay. You're not breaking any rules. And no one's complained." The relief on his face fired a surge of sympathy through her heart.
"At university they have models for us to draw," he volunteered. "But there aren't any classes now, and I can't afford to hire someone to pose for me. So I come here."
"Why here?"
An embarrassed blush colored his face. "At school the models don't have clothes on, so we can draw their body structure—their muscles and tendons and bones. And the skin texture. The people here at the pool—in their bathing suits—they're almost as good as the models."
"Why do you need to see their muscles and stuff? Most paintings I see, people are wearing clothes."
Aaron sighed. "You need to know what's under the clothes to make them look right. If you paint a blacksmith, you have to show that under his shirt he has big muscly arms."
Beth nodded. "That makes sense." She looked at the drawing of her again and noticed that although her face was very recognizable, and her arms and legs, the rest of her—the parts covered by her one-piece bathing suit—was quite indistinct. She was surprised at the amount of muscle definition he had drawn in her calves and thighs. "Do my legs really look like that?"
Aaron nodded. "Uh-huh. I guess you must swim a lot."
Beth felt a warm flush on her face. "Yeah. After I close the pool at six, I stay for an hour and swim laps. I love the water, and it's great exercise."
"Even on a day like this? It must be cold."
"It's warmer in the water. And swimming laps, my body gets pretty heated. I work up quite a sweat."
"Are you going to swim today?"
"Yes."
Aaron hesitated. "Would it be okay if I stay while you swim? I'd like to draw you."
Beth's eyes widened in surprise. "You want to draw me? Swimming?" It was her turn to hesitate. "I'm really not supposed to let anyone in here after I close. But you're not going to be in the water. Just—if anyone comes—you have to hide."
"Okay." Aaron nodded eagerly, a slight smile curving his mouth.
It was the first time Beth had seen him smile.
He's actually quite cute.
Aaron's appearance was not immediately attractive. He was small and slight, with light brown hair and darker eyebrows that almost joined over his prominent nose. When he was deep in thought, or concentrating on something, which was most of the time, his face took on a somber, brooding expression
Beth didn't consider herself attractive, either. She was small, just under five feet tall. She had strong, shapely swimmer's legs and butt, and hips to match. In contrast her narrow waist and thin, small-breasted torso seemed to belong to a much younger girl The brown skin, dark eyes, and long black hair she'd inherited from her Thai mother did even more to set her apart from most Canadian girls her age.
The pool was still empty at five o'clock, and Beth took a chance on starting her cleaning early—mopping the pool deck area, then the floors of the change stalls, showers, and toilets. By ten minutes to six she had finished. She locked the gate and turned the 'Open' sign to 'Closed'.
She swam for an hour, counting laps, working on her swim strokes, doing the occasional sprint lap, enjoying the freedom of being the only one in the pool, and the sensation of the water against her skin, buoying her up.
As she pulled herself up out of the water, she was briefly startled at Aaron's presence. She'd been so focused on her swim that she'd completely put him out of her mind.
"I have to shower and change," she told him. "I'll let you out."
"Can I stay until you leave?" he asked. "Some of these sketches are not quite finished, and I need to work on them while the images are still fresh in my mind."
The thought of letting him stay while she showered and dressed brought a brief thrill of danger, but she shrugged her assent. "Okay. I'll be about twenty minutes."
It turned out that their paths home shared the same route; he lived just a block away from her grandparents' house. As they walked together she learned that he, too, had been raised by his grandparents, and had his own living space in their basement, complete with his own entrance, allowing him to come and go without disturbing them.
The following day Aaron was back in his usual place. As Beth watched throughout the afternoon, she realized that no one else was paying attention to him. It was almost as though they didn't see him. Just before six, when the last family left, Beth locked the gate and turned the sign to 'Closed'. It hardly surprised her at all when she saw Aaron still sitting in his spot.
As she got out her cleaning supplies he moved to the bench under the eaves of the bathroom pavilion, and started sketching. Several times while she was mopping the pool deck he asked her to hold a certain position.
"You have beautiful leg muscles," he commented. "I love drawing them."
It was past eight o'clock when she finished showering and dressing after her swim. Aaron waited to walk home with her, and she felt a little sorry when they had to part.
As the days melted into weeks and July became August, their acquaintance grew into friendship. Beth noticed that her lap times were getting faster—or at least she was getting in more laps during the hour She attributed the improvement to Aaron watching her, trying to capture her on paper as she moved through the clear water. His attention made her more keenly aware of her body, more attentive to the position of her arms and legs as she propelled herself forward. Similarly, focusing on the movements of her body as she cleaned the deck area and the bathrooms made those chores almost pleasurable.
On a Friday evening late in August a torrent of rain pelted from the sky just as Beth was finishing her laps. She reached the far wall, climbed out of the pool, and ran into the ladies' side of the pavilion. To her surprise Aaron was inside, sitting on a bench in the changing area.
"Aaron!" she protested. "You can't be in here! I have to change out of my suit and take a shower."
"I know. I'm sorry," he apologized. "But it was really starting to pour, and this was the closest door. I didn't want my sketchbook to get all wet."
The rain on the metal roof of the pavilion drummed maniacally, and Beth knew she couldn't send him outside.
Let him stay here while I shower?
She looked at the empty shower room beyond Aaron. The three open shower stalls were in plain sight.
He'll want to draw me. And I can't really stop him.
She tried to picture herself taking off her bathing suit while he sat there, sketching. It was a scary thought. Raised by her very conservative grandparents, she'd been taught that good girls didn't allow men who weren't their husbands to see them naked. Even though intellectually she knew that belief was outmoded, emotionally it still held a powerful grip on her.
She considered her options.
I could just put my clothes on over my suit, and not shower until I get home
But from the sound of the rain on the roof, that would be quite a while.
I don't want to wait that long in a wet bathing suit. And I hate the smell of chlorine in my hair ...
She almost stamped her foot in frustration.
Why am I making such a big deal about him seeing me naked?
He's drawn nude models in school. I'm sure lots of them were women. Probably much prettier than me.
