Trouble Worth Getting Into

I have taken exactly one swimming lesson in my life.

I must’ve been six, maybe seven, on that windy summer day at the Richfield community pool. I don’t remember much about the actual lesson, or what skill we were supposed to learn, or whether I passed whatever small test they gave us at the end. What I do remember is the moment they let us line up at the diving boards after our lesson. The rest of the class wisely chose the little board, the one close to the water. When my turn came I chose the high dive without thinking. Not out of bravado. Just instinct.

I remember the cool bite of the steel ladder rungs under my pruny little kid fingers. I remember the haze of the lifeguard’s blond ponytail swirling across the surface as she treaded water below. I remember the freckles scattered over the other lifeguard’s nose as he tried to coax me back down the ladder, his voice gentle, like he didn’t want to frighten whatever wild thing I was in that moment.

But what I remember most is the top.

The blue-painted concrete was worn to a nubbly grit that scraped my feet. The air felt different up there. Wider. It was only then that I noticed how high I had climbed. How far away the pool was below. How small the choices seemed as I stood at the edge of something I didn’t quite understand.

There were only two ways down: take the freckled lifeguard’s hand and let him carry me back the way I came, or jump.

And after climbing all that way, I couldn’t imagine turning around.

So I jumped.

I remember the rush of air, the dizzy blue blur, the water swallowing me whole, the lifeguard’s ponytail curling around me like a jellyfish. I remember her smile when I broke the surface, the orange bands on her braces bright in the morning light. And I remember the trouble that followed, my mom furious in the way only a mother terrified and relieved at once can be.

The last thing I remember about that day is buckling my seatbelt in the burgundy backseat of our car, my hair seeping water into the upholstery and knowing that whatever trouble I was in for the rest of that day, it had been worth it.

And I couldn’t wait to do it again.