The Swim Club

The crickets were loud in the grass but Oakley hadn’t caught one. The humming and buzzing dry grass end of summer, one last camping trip, this time lakeside. Oakley ran ahead in the sand and circled round kicking it up while his parents set up a blanket, shade tent, and other elements of home base. Mother found a chewy toy for the baby.

Even at the height of summer, the water was always cold. Oakley hated to wear his life jacket but it’s the One Rule. “Not until you’ve taken all the swim lessons, babe”, said his mother. Oakley waded into the water, his hands clutching his life jacket near his armpits like an old farmer gripping his suspenders, and watched the older kids play. He adjusted his ball cap. There was a dock about forty feet offshore. A breeze pushed across the water etching tiny ripples on the surface. Oakley shivered.

Father was confident. “It’s not that far out and we’ve got a prime spot for watching.”

“It’s just so hard to watch him get big so fast”, she conceded.

And so he was free. Oakley waded into the lake until it was to the tops of his thighs then flopped forward into fresh water with a sploosh and a shriek. He doggy paddled out, his legs half beneath him. Mother had tried to teach him to kick his legs out behind him to splash the surface but Oakley liked to swim like an underwater diver. Like the tiny underwater animal heros on the Octonauts.

Oakley paddled through the ripples to the dock. It was large and wooden, made of rough hewn planks likely taken from the forest along the shore and buoyed beneath by larger cedar logs and an occasional blue barrel. It dipped and rocked with play as the boys ran from one side to the other or jumped off in tandem. Oakley pushed his hands down on the dock and it gently submerged. He flopped on like a porpoise at Sea World and scrambled to his feet.

The boys on the dock were tall and brown from summer.

Oakley looked up to the closest one. “Hi, I’m Oakley. What’s your name?”

“Jake.”

“I’m four n three quarters. How old are you?”

“Eleven.”

“I have a friend that’s eleven.”

The boys rocked the dock gently as they swayed from foot to foot.

“Hey kid, Oakley. We have a swim club here. Want to be part of our club?”

“Yeah, for sure. I’m a good swimmer.” Oakley had earned an otter sticker in his last swim lessons for swimming a metre, though he plowed through that short distance underwater.

“All of us here are part of the club. We’re good swimmers. But no life jackets allowed.”

Oakley looked back to shore. He could see the umbrella and both parents under it, bending to the baby. The maples along the shore waved in the breeze, flashing yellow leaves in amongst their green.

“Yeah. I don’t need it. Life jackets are for babies. I’m four n three quarters.” Oakley unzipped and struggled with the heavy clips until all three popped open. He gripped it near the armpits, wearing it like an open vest and shivered again exposed to the breeze.

“Throw it in the water”, said Jake.

Oakley hesitated, but then shrugged it down his body. It stuck to his wet arms but he worked himself loose. He tossed it onto the water and it slapped open and began to drift. Two black ducks with white heads paddling close dove beneath the surface in alarm. He hugged his elbows to hide his shiver and looked back to the boys with a brave smile.

“I’m in the swim club with you guys!”

The boys smiled back and started to sway from side to side. The dock began to pitch.

“Yeah, we think it’s time you went swimming.”

Oakley looked back to the beach in panic. He could see the umbrella, and under it, Father digging through bags. Mother was carrying the baby back to the car, his fat legs sticking out from her profile. He stumbled and lost his footing.

The dock tilted high to low. Oakley slid across the wet white weathered wood, fingertips trying to grip a seam between the rough boards. He slipped off and into the water. It was a cold surprise to have his head under, his ears hummed, and white bubbles obscured his view. Oakley was an underwater diver, an Octonaut, legs kicking furiously below.

An arm reached around his waist and pulled him up. An older girl held him from behind, holding the edge of the dock with her other hand while he gulped air between the waves next to the cedar logs that kept it afloat. The air under the dock tasted mossy and dark in his throat. “You guys are jerks”, Janey spluttered through her long hair sticking to her face, “He’s just a kid.” She had his lifejacket and held it against his chest. Oakley gripped it tight. With her help, he had it on like a vest again, and did a couple of the clips. “Go find your mom, kid.”

He doggy paddled back. His panic waned with each big kick that propelled him closer to shore. It was completely behind him as he caught the gravel sand beneath his toes. He had done it. He was a member of the Swim Club and he had gone swimming for the boys.