The Twilight Swimmer (33 page)

“Sorry to cut our chat short, Brandywine. Looks like I gotta go deal with a badger.”

“A badger? Where?”

“In the women’s bathroom, at the café. Don’t ask.”

“Serious police work.”

“You got that right.” He kissed her on the top of the head. “You want to walk me back, or stay out for a while?”

“I think I’ll keep going. Over to the school, maybe.”

“All right, have fun. Start heading back before it gets dark, okay?”

Brandi nodded. She watched her father head back down the street, back toward their house. The breeze that had shaken the sycamore branches picked up intensity, stirring the leaves on the ground and lifting them skyward.

Brandi shivered and kept walking.

By the time she reached the school, the sun was already low in the sky. It hadn’t quite touched the treetops, but was dipping steadily and its rays would soon be disrupted by the tangle of dark branches, casting woven shadows on the building’s brick exterior.

The school shared a parking lot with the community recreation center, which housed two basketball courts, a racquetball court and a swimming pool. Their close proximity allowed the students to use the facilities during school hours, while giving the town’s residents a place to play intramural sports in the evening. It was a nice idea but, in reality, the facility went mostly unused by both groups. On this weekend evening, the parking lot was empty and the recreation center was conspicuously closed.

Brandi walked around the side of the main school building and into the playground area. It was put in several years ago when the elementary school shuttered its doors, an admission that the decline in the town’s population was likely permanent. All of the kids, from Kindergarten through 12
th
grade, would now be housed in a single building. They were segregated within its walls, but intermingled here, on the playground. The older kids tended to stay clear of the merry-go-round and swings, preferring to huddle against the wall and smoke cigarettes on the sly while the younger kids chased each other, high voices squealing, across the chalk-decorated pavement.

Brandi sat down in a swing too low for her, folding her feet at the ankle underneath herself and wrapping her arms around the linked chains that held the seat aloft. She swung left and right, building enough momentum to braid the chains and spin her back to center. She dug her feet into the ground and twisted herself again, kept pushing until the chains were so tight overhead that they lifted the seat much higher off the ground. She let go of her precarious toehold and lifted her feet, closing her eyes as the swing unwound and spun her much faster than before.

When she finally came to rest and opened her eyes, the Swimmer was standing across the playground, dressed in tight pants and a loose-fitting sweater he could have salvaged from anywhere. The low sun was behind him, defining his silhouette and masking the details of his face. But his shape and his posture were unmistakable. It was him, and he was staring at her in silence.

“Were you following me?” she asked as she rose from the swing. “I thought you might be. I thought I could… feel you.”

The Swimmer shook his head and stepped forward.

“No, of course you weren’t. The sunlight. Isn’t it hurting you?”

Without the blast of sunlight behind him, she could see his face more clearly. He was gritting his teeth, in obvious pain.

“I had to see you,” he said.

His eyes were as wide and gray as ever, but his expression was far more grave than she had ever seen before. She stood before him, dwarfed beneath his height. She could hear him draw a shallow breath through his nostrils. She could see the flutter of his gills as he expelled the same breath.

“Let’s go inside,” she whispered. “Hurry.”

The recreation center doors were locked, but they found an unlocked office window. She climbed over the sill first, then offered the Swimmer a hand to pull him through. Feeling silly at the thought that he would need her help, she withdrew her hand and backed up to give him space. He slid through the open window effortlessly, gracefully, and pulled down the pane behind them.

A few submerged bulbs imbedded in the pool walls illuminated the still, chlorinated water. They were too faint to light the entire room, but bright enough to etch the tile bottom and the lap lane buoys that floated on the water’s surface. The Swimmer illuminated the poolroom further with a glowing palm until Brandi found the bank of light switches on the wall. She reached for them, and covered them with her palm, but the blue light from the Swimmer’s hand was so enchanting that she preferred to leave the room in semi-darkness.

“It will be warm. Much warmer than the sea. Is that okay?”

The Swimmer nodded, then pulled his sweater over his head and laid it on a bench.

Brandi kicked off her shoes. She took hold of her shirt and began to lift it, exposing her stomach. Suddenly shy, she lowered her shirt again. “Will you look away?” she asked.

The Swimmer nodded again. He turned to the water and, without hesitation, leapt from the floor, bent at the waist, and plunged beneath the surface in a simple dive. He disappeared below the surface and did not emerge, but Brandi could see his long form gliding along the bottom, arms pinned to his side, legs pressed together and working as a single unit.

She pulled her shirt over her head, folded it, and laid it on the bench. She unfastened her jeans and stepped out of them, folded them as well, and laid them on the bench. Her heart was racing as she looked down at herself, nearly naked, in nothing but her underwear. She wished she was wearing something a little more feminine than white and white, but quickly banished the thought. The Swimmer wouldn’t care what her underwear looked like.

With a nervous exhalation, she stepped off the edge and dropped into the pool.

The water was indeed warm. She was immediately aware of the chemical taste that covered her lips and rushed into her nostrils. It was unpleasant to her, now that she was aware of it. How much more unpleasant must it be for the Swimmer. She descended half way to the bottom of the deep end before her natural buoyancy slowed her sinking and held her, for a perfect moment, in perfect suspension. She scanned the deep blue water until she saw the Swimmer. He was twisting like a corkscrew as he swam lazily along the pool wall. When he reached a corner, he contorted his body, pushed off with his feet, and performed an improbably ninety-degree turn that didn’t slow him down at all.

Brandi felt her lungs make their first polite request for air, and allowed herself to float upward. Her head broke the surface and she drew a breath. Treading water, she swept her wet hair back over her head were it clung to her thin neck. She pressed her face back underwater, eyes open, to find the Swimmer again. She couldn’t see him, but she felt the water change behind her and turned to find him there, just beneath the surface, his face level with her waist. She took a breath, then plunged her face back under the water. He looked up at her, his lips widening into a casual smile. He reached out and placed his hands on her angular hips. She could feel their warmth, even in the warm water, as he slid his hands up her ribs and slowly rose to the surface. When he finally breached the surface, his hands were on her back and his gray eyes trained on hers. He drew her closer, his chest pressed against hers. She could feel his heart beating against her skin. She could feel her own heart beating against his, twice as quickly, twice as urgently.

“What are we doing?” she asked, immediately embarrassed by the girlish lilt in her voice and the foolish ambiguity of the question.

“It’s almost time,” he answered.

“Time for what?”

“The season is changing. The waters grow cold.”

Brandi was no longer treading water. He held them both at the surface with ease, gently swishing his powerful legs. “You’re leaving?” she asked.

The Swimmer stared at her for a long beat, then closed his eyes and inched closer. He gently parted her lips with delicate pressure from his own. The kiss was as soft as any she had ever experienced. Lost in his touch, she forgot she was in the water at all. When he eased away from her and their lips broke contact, she needed a moment to reorient herself.

“What does it mean? The waters growing cold?”

“My kind follows the water. We always have. We must.”

“Migration?” she asked, knowing the answer.

The Swimmer ran one hand up her back, sending a pleasant shiver up her spine. He caressed her neck beneath her wet hair then pulled her to him for another kiss. This time, he closed his mouth over hers and, with no warning, plunged them both beneath the surface. His air was her air. She gave herself over completely to his torrid diving and twirling as he maneuvered acrobatically around the pool. They swam together, as one, just as they had the night he took her to see the submerged cavern. Was there a time when she would have believed none of this was possible? When she would have believed that
he
wasn’t possible? She couldn’t remember. It felt normal now, somehow. It felt right to be here, playing, in his arms. Exulting in the rush of the water over her skin, in the thrill of a blue that seemed infinite despite the walls that penned them in. How much more wonderful it would be to swim with him, with the Swimmer, in the wide open waters. He would keep her warm. He would keep her safe.

He took her down to the bottom of the deep end, where they sat entwined. They shared air. They stared into each other’s eyes. Down here, there was no need to blink. After more than a minute, he righted them both, pushed off from the bottom and kicked hard, frightfully hard, until they burst from the surface of the pool and vaulted over its edge. They landed on the cement floor beside the water, Brandi still aloft in his powerful arms. He unlocked his mouth from hers and lowered her, gently, to the ground. For a moment, she was unsteady on her feet. But the first rush of air into her lungs brought back her balance. She could still feel the warmth radiating from his body. Her underwear clung to her skin, but she no longer felt self-conscious with him. Even if she had, the fact that his eyes remained on hers would have quickly put her at ease.

“I’m so happy, right now. And so sad,” she said. “I don’t know what happens next. Everyone I care about… goes away.”

The Swimmer took a step toward her. “Your sister,” he said, very softly. So softly she almost couldn’t hear him.

“Jenny. Her name was Jenny.” Brandi studied the Swimmer’s expression, his gray eyes suddenly full of mystery. Either his body had stopped radiating warmth, or the sudden chill Brandi felt came from within her. She covered herself with her arms and scurried over to the bench, where she quickly began to dress. “How do you know about Jenny?” she asked, her voice shaky.

The Swimmer stood at the edge of the pool, still shirtless, his pants still clinging to his powerful legs. He seemed intent on closing the distance between them, but could sense in her tone that Brandi would recoil.

“I was there,” he said.

“What are you saying? You were where?”

The Swimmer didn’t answer. Instead, he ignored his instinct to keep away from Brandi and took a step forward, raising his hand. His palm still emitted its wondrous blue light but, for Brandi, it had lost all its magic. Now there was something discomforting about the light. Something hypnotic and vaguely threatening.

“Answer me. What do you mean when you say you were ‘there’?”

“I laid her on the beach. Your sister,” said the Swimmer as he took anther step forward.

Brandi took a step backward. “You laid her on the beach? That’s not possible. She drowned. My sister drowned alone.”

“She was beautiful. Like you.”

“What happened to her? If you were there… If you were there…”

“The water was cold. Too cold for her.”

“What happened?!” Brandi screamed, backpedaling from the Swimmer. “What did you do to her?!”

“Please—”

The Swimmer walked after Brandi, both arms extended, both hands open and glowing. She kept moving away from him, stopping only long enough to jam her feet into her shoes. She slipped on a puddle and stumbled backward, tripping over an equipment crate and falling against the wall. Her shoulder hit squarely, and the impact was painful. But she gritted her teeth and kept moving, sliding down the wall to evade the Swimmer who kept coming forward.

“All those nights she snuck out. All those nights she went swimming. It was you! She was going to meet you!”

“Please listen to me,”

“That’s why you came after me? Because she was gone and I’m the next best thing?”
              “You are only… you. I don’t have the words.”

“You killed her! You killed Jenny!”

Brandi didn’t wait for a response from the Swimmer. He was still moving toward her, and she had to get away. She turned and ran, full speed, for the poolroom exit. The Swimmer’s hands suddenly lost their glow, plunging the room into immediate darkness. She could hardly see where she was going, but kept running for the door. When she felt the bar handle before her, she pushed hard and stumbled out into the hallway.

“Brandi. Brandi!” the Swimmer called out as the poolroom door slammed shut behind her.

She raced down the hall and into the office where the window they had climbed through was still unlocked. Breathing hard, crying hysterically, she threw open the window and climbed through it.