Lake Swim
Saturday, July 19th, 2008
Farther out in the water, the waves gained momentum and considerable size, almost marching atop one another as they crested and glided from their secret source. With the twilight coming down it was easier for me to imagine these undulations as the scientists that study them do. Waves a half-foot tall were being pulled and stretched by the magnetism of the moon, tall and white in the sky and yet still not at its zenith.
The sun washed down the beach and the treelines behind us while we crossed into chopier waters. We were paddling with the children alternating from our backs to our arms. Caroline, the youngest, switched from holding tightly to my shoulders to bobbing along beside me in her florescent green life vest. She dared to pull away occasionally and spin in circles but never letting loose her hold with one hand. Immediately she pulled close to me when the water turned darker, more dangerous, and I could no longer touch.
A flash of anxiety shot through me. Waves with greater intensity made it harder to hold on to her. Then my reach found the floating marker that cordons off the beach area, separating the swimmers from the speedboats, erratic jet skis, and the hooks and fishing line of fishermen. Plastic tubing painted canary yellow has been set out in a great arching shape that connects one beach head to another. Not even the most inebriated boat captain could miss it. I wrapped both arms around the center of the yellow letter “C” and sat my feet atop a rockpile with sharp edges I traced with my toes extended. The water was more chaotic and filled with energy. Caroline and I began to bob and rock unwillfully. The jealous lake breakers waere determined to carry us atop their shoulders and deposit us at a much greater depth, but instead found us, two upright, obtuse figures that were too scared to move or drown.
Betsy was a body’s length away, which given the strength of the water might have well as been a whole cove, was struggling with my son Charlie, too. Her face was as panicked as mine, but she’d already begun her retreat to shallow water. In those few seconds I had looked away, the dardedevil on my back decided to shimmy her way down the divider, just far enough for me to grab her shoulder a little too roughly and pull her onto my back.
Dog paddling with her holding on, I struggled to make my way into shallow water – the water slapping against us until finally pushing us ahead to where I could walk again.
As we drive off, I see the place where we swam framed in the car window over my shoulder. I look out at the bar – at the spot where I held on – and remember the thrill that freightened me and the one the children were hopefully oblivious to, overwhelmed by fun.
December 20th, 2008 5:10 pm
I was looking for someone to answer a question about College Career Central, specifically how you arrived at that particular name for your web publication. I’m thinking it has kind of hip sound to it, like Comedy Central, very popular on college campuses. My search for the answer to that question began when, on a whim, I googled “Indecision 2009″ to see if there were any entries for it yet. In my search, I found an interesting article with that title by one of your associates, Michael Mackey.
In an attempt to find out more about the enterprise, I found a piece about Mr. Platt himself who I might add bears a striking resemblance to Mr. Fezziwig.
Eventually I arrived at your blog. So I thought I’d start at the beginning and read through them.