Nightswimming, remembering that night
September's coming soon
I'm pining for the moon
And what if there were two
Side by side in orbit
Around the fairest sun?
– R.E.M
Nightswimming
August 31, 2002
Water flowed past me, and I thought of the nature of time – a common preoccupation of late. Time as a river was a metaphor so old, it was a cliché.
Time is a river I go fishing in
, Thoreau had said.
I’m tired of living, and scared of dying, but Old Man River, he just keeps rolling along
–
Paul Robeson’s version of that song, in the first
Show Boat
movie, had sent chills up my spine.
The Alan Parson’s Project had time flowing like a river to the sea.
Several books and music albums had been called
River of Time
.
It was an obvious metaphor, probably dating back, like everything else did, to the Greeks. It was a cliché
because
it was so obvious. We are caught in time’s currents, and we go where it takes us. You can’t change your destination. You can’t do laps, using repetition and practice to improve the time and quality of the journey. Time is a river, not a swimming pool.
My stroke brought me to the wall. I flipped, and launched in the opposite direction, slicing through the water as if it weren't there.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Amber cuddled in my arms. Sidney sat on the bench, eyes brimming with tears, huddled underneath layers of towels. She still wouldn't look at me. I could only imagine the thoughts racing through her head.
She was in love with Amber, her best friend. She was a lesbian in one of the most conservative, Bible-thumping parts of the United States, and she was leaving for college next week. Was she worried everyone in town would discover the truth? I doubted it. Sidney was too full of self-confidence to give a shit about the opinions of people she would never want to see again. But how about her family? What would they think?
What would Amber think?
That was it, or at least most of it. Sidney was terrified I would narc on her to the people she cared about, and she wasn't ready for that.
I still didn't understand why Sidney had orchestrated tonight's actions. I considered whether it was some manipulative sexual game – that she couldn't
directly
have sex with the woman she loved, so she arranged a situation where she could physically love Amber by proxy – but that didn't seem likely. Sidney had participated only reluctantly, at least at first. I recalled her initial hostility, and the way she gripped my cock when I was kissing Amber. I also thought of the way she had protected Amber when I told Amber to undress – that didn't feel like someone who was prostituting her own friend for her own sexual pleasure.
No, something more complex was unfolding. Sidney had a secret, but she was still Sidney – a likeable, clever woman who had just done me the great kindness of participating in one of every man's sexual fantasies. What had she said earlier? Amber wanted to cram four years of sexual experience into one weekend, and I was the lucky guy? Sidney had influenced my selection as that “lucky guy”, and for the level of trust she had shown, I owed her an obligation.
I wracked my brain, trying to determine a way to comfort her without betraying her.
“You know we have to keep this a secret, right?” I hoped Sidney would understand the double-meaning in my words.
Amber nodded and giggled. “My dad would kill me and would probably find a way to have you declared a menace to society, and locked up!”
It was Sidney's reaction I wanted. She raised her head, and I saw red-rimmed eyes peering at me apprehensively.
I stared directly at her, and with all the conviction I could muster, I said, “Sex secrets stay private.”
Sidney took a deep, stuttered breath, releasing some of her inner tension. She gave me a weak smile, nodded, then said, “Amber I have to go home.” Sidney was dropped off at the pool in the morning by her mother, but Amber usually drove her home.
Amber was disappointed. “Aw, this was amazing! I don't want it to end!”
Neither did I.
Amber reluctantly pulled away from me, and started putting on her swimming suit.
I had an idea. “Sidney, I would be happy to drive you home. I live closer to you.”
Sidney seemed to recognize I was offering her a chance to talk, but shook her head. “No thanks. Amber and I have to discuss your performance behind your back.”
I smiled at that. Sidney was down but not out.
Amber flounced over to kiss me on the lips. “Don't worry, Lance. You were awesome!”
I pulled on my swim trunks, and followed them to the front office. Amber approached to kiss me once more, then headed for the door. “See you tomorrow, Lance! Last day of the summer!”
To my surprise, Sidney approached for a kiss as well. It was chaste, but she followed it with a hug and whispered, “You aren't going to tell her?”
“No,” I whispered back. I felt her relax in my arms. “Are you?”
Sidney suddenly grew tense again, and pulled away from me. Her tears returned, seeping through her closed eyelids. Her emotions were too strong to be restrained by any part of her body. She shook her head and muttered, “No, no, no...”
I pulled her close and kissed her tenderly on the forehead.
Everything will be okay
, the kiss said. Having experienced Tasha's epic emotional quakes, Sidney's comparatively reasonable meltdown was easy.
Taking a deep breath, Sidney relaxed again.
I wanted to discuss this more, but Amber called out, “If you want to stay longer, I'm game!”
Sidney's mouth quivered in a nervous smile, and she hugged me again. But this hug was different – the first genuine gesture of emotional affection toward me I had seen all night. “No, I'm just leaving.”
They walked to Amber's car, and I heard part of their conversation.
“What's wrong, Sidney?”
“Nothing. It's just sort of emotional, you know?”
“Yeah, I know.” Amber hugged her friend, and I saw Sidney hesitate before returning the hug, not trusting her own reaction to Amber's touch.
I walked toward the pool, wanting a late night swim.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
One of the few perks of being a lifeguard was the key to the pool, and permission to use it at night. We were supposed to swim with a buddy, but they weren’t going to fire me with one day left in the season. I hit the opposite wall, and flipped.
I hadn’t swum laps in five subjective years. It used to clear my head. It helped me think. Like everything else that was a part of me, Tasha had chased it away.
You smell like chlorine. You're late. I miss you when aren’t with me. Why can’t you skip laps tonight and come straight home from work?
This wasn't a night to think of Tasha, but of Sidney. If she were in love with Amber, why had Sidney pushed Amber into my arms? Why had Sidney herself participated? Why did she take the ruse so far as to have sex with me?
The only answer I had received from Sidney was cryptic – that Amber wouldn't have participated without Sidney, but that didn't explain why it was important to Sidney that Amber participate at all.
I was glad it was my present-day self coping with Sidney's troubles. If the same events had unfolded nine years earlier, I would have said something like,
You're a lesbian? Cool! Can I watch you and Amber make out?
While I had that exact same thought tonight, I knew better than to say it aloud, and was able to understand and sympathize with Sidney's predicament. I hadn't had any openly gay friends in high school (although there were a few I suspected), but had enough gay friends and colleagues in my present to know how emotionally traumatic coming out could be.
Clearing my head wasn’t enough. I still couldn’t puzzle it out. I had earlier planned to grab the resonance array, and leave after the end of the day, but I decided to see what would happen tomorrow.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
September 1, 2002
Stay with me.
I heard lust emitted in short gasps, to the rhythmic accompaniment of bed springs, and I opened my eyes.
A faint blue light emanated from the top of my dresser. I investigated, and realized it was the resonance array, coiled around a circle of light that blinked at me like a blue eye. I reached out to seize it, and the array enlarged – or I shrank – and its torus was now the width of my fist, and covered in scales. It slithered in my grasp.
I followed the curve with my eye, and noticed that what I thought was one of the array's crystals, was in truth a malevolent, reptilian head, holding the end of its own tail within the prison of its fangs. Ophidian eyes stared at me, unblinking. I somehow knew the head was going to strike. I stepped back...
…and I woke up.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
My father was reading the business section when I came downstairs the next morning. Mom was leaning against him, her feet resting on the armrest of the couch, reading a collection of Edgar Allan Poe short stories. My father's arm embraced her. My parents' open affection for each other had embarrassed me when I was in high school. It was a few years before I realized how lucky I had been.