A Gleam In His Eye. Terry EssigЧитать онлайн книгу.
can. It’s just easier to hold on to the edge of the starting block and you get a better start that way, go out farther right at the very beginning.”
“I’m scared.”
“Coach Jo, Uncle Hunter says okay, but it’s gotta be quick ’cuz the natives are getting restless and he’s all out of Cheerios.”
Johanna understood the cryptic message perfectly, having used the same cereal many times herself during church services, choir and band concerts and assorted other programs requiring attendance by the care providers of small children.
She acknowledged receipt of his acceptance with a wave to the stands.
Hunter waved back and Johanna’s heart flipped. Stupid, but no longer alarming. Without a care in the world, Johanna asked Robby, “How about if I hold your hand?”
Robby thought about it. Hard. “Okay,” he finally reluctantly decided. “But you’re not gonna let go or anything, are you?”
“Promise.” Johanna made a crisscross motion over her heart and extended her hand. “Ready?”
Robby took her hand with all the enthusiasm of a French nobleman ascending the steps to the guillotine. Slowly he climbed the two steps to the top of the block and stood there, well to the rear of the small platform.
“So,” Johanna said, “how’s the view?”
“Okay,” Robby allowed.
“Good. Come on down.”
“I don’t hafta dive in?” Robby questioned suspiciously, sure he was missing a trick somewhere.
“Not unless you want to.”
“I don’t.”
“Then climb down. That’s enough for your first try.”
“Karen will think I’m a baby.”
“Who cares? She’s living in a glass house and I don’t think you’re a baby. I think you’re very brave for getting up there at all.”
The youngsters who’d been packing up paused in their tasks and one by one came to stand by the edge as they became aware of the drama being enacted.
In the stands Hunter rose and edged closer after instructing Aaron and Mikie to stay put. “Aaron, don’t let Mikie move. I’ll be right back.”
Karen was getting jealous of the attention Robby was getting. “Get down, Robby,” she directed. “I want to try it.”
“No. You had a turn before and you wouldn’t do it. It’s my turn now.”
Karen began to whine. “But I wanna try now. You had long enough. It should be my turn again.”
It was all Johanna could do not to roll her eyes and ask if Karen wanted a little cheese with her whine. Had it been one of her own siblings, she probably would have, but as it was, she kept her mouth shut and focused on Robby, waiting to see what he would do. Instead, Hunter handled it.
Quietly, so as not to distract Robby, he gently pulled Karen back from the starting block and whispered for her to keep an eye on Aaron and Mikie.
“I don’t want you to hold my hand no more. You can let go.”
The child’s knees were knocking together. “You don’t have to, Robbie.”
“No, it’s okay. Let go.”
Johanna did so, but stayed close, ready to step in if Robby lost his newfound courage.
Robbie took a deep breath and straightened his thin shoulders. He stood there, maybe two feet up over the water, looking very much as if he were about to attempt walking a plank.
Hunter took Karen’s place, eyes intent on his nephew.
“I’m gonna do it,” Robby announced.
“You don’t have to,” Johanna said. “I just wanted you to see what it was like this first time.”
“I’m gonna,” he insisted.
“Do you want me to get in the pool and catch you?”
Robby thought about that but evidently decided that, too, would make him a wimp in his sister’s eyes. He shook his head. “No,” he said.
“All right. If you change your mind I’m right here.”
Robby stood there, staring down into the three feet of clear water. Johanna was sure it might as well be a hundred feet deep and shark-infested. Aubrey took her hand on one side, needing the comfort an adult could provide as she remembered her own terror the first few times off the block. “Do you think he’s gonna really do it, Johanna?” she whispered.
“Shh,” Johanna hushed. “Let him concentrate.” She reached out to take Karen’s hand with her free hand in a silent signal to remain quiet. What she found was a hand quite a bit larger and hairier than she anticipated. The hand squeezed hers in silent communication, and Johanna about jumped out of her skin. She squealed. Robby startled, lost his balance, windmilled, then fell into the water. He came up sputtering.
“That was fun. Can I do it again?”
“My turn!” claimed Karen.
Hunter whirled around. “Where are Aaron and Mikie?” he asked, his heart suddenly in his mouth.
“Aaron’s showing Mikie the other pool. I wanted to watch Robby.”
The other pool? The diving well? Johanna took off at a run, Hunter, who’d been frantically sweeping the area with his eyes, in hot pursuit. “Oh, my God,” he said. “Oh, my God.”
Johanna could see the two little ones leaning over the edge, marveling over, what, the depth of the water? The design on the bottom? Who knew? The swimmers in the other lanes were so involved in their workouts no one else had noticed the tykes, either. Hunter broke into a sprint, passing Johanna as she detoured by the lifeguard stand and grabbed a rescue tube. Hunter had almost reached the pair when Aaron, the four-year-old, slipped on the wet tile and went in, taking little Mikie with him.
“Damn,” he said, and dived in, shoes and all. He overshot the pair, who’d already begun to sink and had to turn around, flailing a bit as he trod water and furiously swiped chlorinated water out of his eyes. “Aaron! Mikie!” There! He dived down, but missed and had to come up for air.
Johanna, meanwhile, took the time to kick off her shoes so she wouldn’t be so weighted down, tucked the rescue tube under her arms and used a stride entry. Bedlam was rapidly breaking out with shrieking seven-and eight-year-olds alerting the rest of the coaches to the problem. She positioned herself over the children and, holding the tube by its long strap, let her hands come down to her sides, then raised them rapidly up over her head and torpedoed straight down. Coming up behind Aaron, she slipped an arm around him and kicked hard, propelling herself to the surface. She handed him off to Hunter, took a deep breath and went back down.
The smaller one, Mikie, was already limp. Johanna brought him up, then, on her back, pulled him over to the side. The coach of the nine-and ten-year-old group leaned over the side and took the child from her. Johanna put her hands on the pool’s edge and lifted herself out.
No need to check the older one. He wailed loudly and hiccuped while squeezing Hunter’s neck and being squeezed in return. In true parental fashion, Hunter alternately comforted and berated. “It’s okay, you’re all right. You ever do anything like that again, I’ll drown you myself. Are you sure you’re all right? When I tell you to stay put, you need to stay put, hear me? It’s okay, calm down. You’re strangling me. I’ve got to check Mikie. Oh, God, something’s wrong with Mikie.”
Mikie had swallowed a major portion of the pool, Johanna suspected. The other coach had him flat on his back on the pool deck by the time Johanna had lifted herself out of the water. Together they tipped his head back to open his airway. Johanna put her face