The Quick Dip Wasn't So Quick

"Jesus Christ it's hot!" yelled Michael.

Michael went by Mike, except at work, and today he wasn't feeling the heat, so even hearing his name called was bad. It was nearly 100 degrees, and the heat index was somewhere between ridiculous and torture. As he stood there, in the line with his compatriots, feeling like he'd walked out of a rain shower, he walked forward with a menacing look.

They were having their yearly range day. Why they couldn't reschedule it was beyond him. Of course, he knew if he asked, the range instructors would say, "You've got to be prepared under all conditions." It made him wonder when the last time any of their soggy midsections saw any kind of action other than teaching.

Mike had sweat pouring out of his head like a faucet. He stopped the range instructor and put a bandana over his head, hoping it would keep the beads out of his eyes. Once he was ready, the instructor told him, "Two shots, six seconds."

Mike checked his weapon, reholstered, and stood at the ready. He gave the range instructor a nod, and when the whistle blew, he took out his weapon and fired two shots into the center of the target. Today, for comedy relief, the target was an image of the Sun with rings drawn inside it.

Fifty rounds later, Mike was done. He went back to his car and sat in the air conditioning. It was entirely too hot to be outside. Why, he wondered, would they put the seasoned veterans through such misery? It seemed sadistic.

When Mike got back into town, he drove straight home. He walked past his neighbor, giving a nod as his neighbor Janice commented on how hot it was. He didn't want to be out in a vest, a shirt, and tactical pants with a fifty-pound belt around his waist. He'd been on the range long enough that his brain felt like what he imagined an order of eggs over medium felt like.

He walked straight to his back door, stared at the reflection in the glass, and turned. Slowly, he dumped his gun belt on his deck. He undid his vest and let it fall to his feet. For some reason, he took off his shirt. And then, he walked right off the side of the deck into his pool.

"Oh my god!"

He realized he was standing there in his pool and hadn't bothered to empty his pockets, or get rid of his electronic key fob, or his cellphone. Even his wallet and cash were soaked. But for the first time in hours, he felt comfortable. The water was a little warm for his taste, but the nightly downpours kept it from being like a bath.

"Well, that's a way to cool off," his wife said as she walked outside.

Ugh, thought Mike. The wife was home. If he knew Helen, she no doubt would have a dozen things for him to do. And in this heat, they'd no doubt be outside. Why was she home?

"I can't believe how hot it is," she commented, kicking off her shoes as she walked toward the pool.

She didn't bother to change out of her scrubs or take off her socks. She just walked right off the edge and into the blue waters. Mike knew it wasn't like Helen to give in to temptation.

"Are we in Hell?" he asked.

"Why?"

He looked at Helen, pleasantly surprised by her impulsiveness, and smiled, "I can't think of why else this heat would be so bad, and every day for two months."

As the two laughed, Helen put her arms around her husband. She gently put her lips against his.

Twenty minutes later, Mike and Helen had gotten lost in the moment and were both treading water after enjoying the time alone. They'd forgotten, while playing hookie in the heat, to keep tabs on the time. When three teenagers came out the sliding door to the deck, two of them their kids, they were both forced to rush to the side of the pool.

"Mom! Dad!"