Black Boys Swimming with Sharks Dragons
When push comes to shove at the swimming pool...
At some point, most of us have wondered or maybe even theorized about how we might behave in an actual life-or-death situation. And for some of us, either fortunately or unfortunately, we know beyond a shadow of a doubt exactly how we react when push comes to shove, and you find yourself staring death square in the eye. As a storyteller, we seek truth. And truth can often be found by looking within. ‘Know thyself,’ the saying goes. As someone who has danced with death a few times, one of the earliest instances I can recall was one summer in the 1980s when I was first introduced to my…’Other-Side’, for lack of a better term.
Generally speaking, I’ve mostly been an easy-going, nice type of guy who doesn’t wish ill or harm upon others. One hot summer day, I was at the neighborhood public swimming pool along with countless other kids chilling out so to speak. The lifeguards would occasionally administer a game of ‘Shark-Shark’. It was essentially a game of tag, but in the deep end of the pool near the diving boards. All the players had to tread water and then avoid being tagged by one unlucky player deemed the ‘shark’.
Ordinarily, I was way too cool to participate in that corny organized-games crap. But on this particular day, it was overly hot. A cute girl I had a crush on was playing ‘Shark-Shark’, and I had taken swim lessons at least twice before. I remembered them covering the topic of treading water, and I also regularly jumped off the diving board into the deep end and would easily swim to the ladder, so I felt quite confident.
All in all, I was a decent swimmer. I understood all the procedures and concepts. My only tiny issue was breathing. I could breathe just fine, and I could swim just fine. But I couldn’t seem to do both at the same time. I would take a deep breath, then I would swim as far as I could on one breath, but continually breathing while still swimming? Not so much. ‘Shark-Shark’ was mostly about treading water, which means my head would be above water where I could breathe followed by a short swim to the edge to evade the shark. Easy.
The lifeguards blew the whistle and all us kids jumped in and began treading water in the center of the deep end waiting with heightened anticipation. As the excitement grew, I finally understood why so many kids loved this game. I had been missing out all this time. Surprisingly this corny game turned out to be fun. All those times of watching from the sidelines, I had truly been missing out. Aside from the time my parents had a lapse in judgement and let me watch the movie Jaws as a toddler, I had never been so anxious about a shark in the water coming to attack. ‘Come on, shark. Come on.’ This was the longest I had ever treaded (trod) water before. I needed a break. ‘Dang, if only we could have played this stupid game in the shallow water where I could just stand up,’ I thought.
In all those swimming lessons the one thing (other than breathing) that I could not master was to float. The instructors tried and tried, but it just wouldn’t work because on land, I was a sprinter; born that way, built that way. The thing about sprinters, in my family anyway, we have higher than average bone density which means we don’t float. We sink. Where most swimmers can float quite easily, and tread water by gently moving their arms back and forth with minimal effort, I, on the other hand sink like a rock without constant major exertion. For me, treading water is an all-out anaerobic event, basically a sprint. And no human can sprint for very long. But surely, I could tread water long enough for this silly game of ‘water-tag’, right? Wrong. The lifeguards were taking their sweet ol’ time calling the shark. This game was over before it even began for me. I had to get out of that water pronto.
So, there I was way out in the middle of the deepest part of the pool and the sidewall edges looked further and further away. The more I looked, the farther it was, to the point it might as well have been a country mile. I felt that familiar burn sprinters feel when the lactic acid in the muscles is all used up, and I mean all the way gone, jack. I didn’t know what to do. My muscles were completely spent. I felt the water creeping up over my mouth, then my nose, then gulp!
‘This is how it feels like right before I die,’ I thought.
“Do you want to live or die?” I heard a voice say to me. I didn’t know where the voice was coming from, but thinking back I know it was my ‘Other-Side’.
‘I want to live! I want to live,’ I thought feeling my body sinking downward. ‘I most definitely want to live!’
Then my ‘Other-Side’ directed my attention to the person treading water right next to me. It was my homeboy from the neighborhood. We’ll change the name and call him, uh..Franklin. Yes, Franklin named after the little black boy in Charlie Brown since we are indeed talking about little black boys at this point. Franklin, though a little younger than me, happened to be an excellent water-treader.
“Grab him!” said my ‘Other-Side’.
‘But I don’t want to hurt poor Franklin,’ I thought. I liked Franklin. He was a nice kid, good at sports, everybody liked him. And besides, he was the homey. We try our best to look out for the homies, not hurt them. Then I felt myself sinking father down into the abyss for what would surely be the very last time.
“Grab him NOW!”
I needed to breathe so bad. Even though I could barely move my arms and legs, I somehow found the strength for one last surge upward. I could no longer see Franklin. Instead, I saw this majestic handle magically lowered from above in order to save my life. Coincidentally that magic handle was shaped exactly like Franklin’s shoulder. So, I grabbed it.
‘Sorry Frankie.’
My hand locked on like a vise. Having something to hold onto energized me and I was able to pull my head back above water.
I took in as much oxygen as possible as I gasped for air involuntarily. I had no choice in the matter just like the guiding force that made me involuntarily place one hand and then the other on top of Franklin’s head. Before I could think about whether I should do it, it was already done. Both hands were locked on top of Franklin’s head. Finally, I got to rest. My arms and leg muscles immediately started to replenish. All I had to do was hold on to Franklin’s head long enough to regain enough strength to swim to the edge. Fortunately, the ‘Shark-Shark’ game was finally underway, and other kids were splashing, laughing and swimming all around us. The mayhem was the perfect cover so that no one would think I was purposely trying to hurt poor Franklin. It looked like we were just playing and rough housing like all the other kids, but in reality, I was hanging on for dear life.
Hats off to Franklin. He was one strong water-treader. His ability coupled with his even stronger desire for air helped him keep both of our heads above water despite my added body weight on top of his head.
“Get off! What you doing, yo?” Franklin squealed in a high-pitched panicked voice.
‘What a dumb question,’ I thought. ‘Can’t he see I’m trying to rest so I can swim to the edge?’
All he needed to do was stay calm and keep treading water. Instead, Franklin started sinking. And panicking. And sinking. His glorious water-treading skills faded fast. His strained face teetered right at the waterline. He’d go under, then pop up, then under. Where he really messed up was when he tried to add screaming to the mix. Screaming was a horrible idea on two fronts. For one, screaming while trying to breathe caused Franklin to gag and swallow water. And second, Franklin’s screams were drawing too much attention our way and I wasn’t done resting, so my ‘Other-Side’ pushed poor Franklin’s head further underwater to ‘drown-out’ all the noise he was making to avoid unwanted attention.
Finally, my muscles were replenished, so I took one deep breath and swam to the side of the pool and climbed out. I looked for the nearest lifeguard to tell them my homeboy was drowning, but they had already blown the whistle and dove in to save Franklin. What a relief. I never wanted anything bad to happen to him. Since the lifeguards had the situation in hand, I hurried over to collect my towel and sneakers and headed for the exit since I didn’t really feel like swimming anymore. I glanced back to see the lifeguards pulling Franklin from the pool. Apparently, he swallowed a lot of water and continued gagging and causing a big commotion, where everyone rushed over to see what happened.
As I approached the exit. Two girls from the neighborhood stopped me and asked, “What happened to Franklin?”
One of them was the cute girl I had a crush on so I stopped to talk when I probably should have kept moving. “He can’t swim good,” I said shaking my head in despair.
The girls looked concerned, and so did I, but for slightly different reasons.
“Then why would he go in the deep end?” the cute girl asked.
I shrugged my shoulders (which technically isn’t lying). “I-uh-nu,” I muttered (again, technically not a lie). I looked back at Franklin one more time. Thankfully he looked to be regaining his breath but was still coughing quite a bit. Franklin’s desperate eyes stared right through me. Then he raised his stubby little finger and pointed in my direction, still coughing and babbling incoherently. Damn. Franklin had crossed the line. One thing you never do is tattle on the homies. That son-of-a-gun was trying to tell on me. Nothing left for me to do but leave, so I left. Fast. I hopped on my trusty Mongoose and pedaled for home with my towel tied around my neck, flapping in the wind like it was my own superhero cape. I pondered as I rode, ‘if Superman can swim, then what’s the F*%#ing point of Aquaman? Swimming is way overrated.’
Whether we realize it or not, we all have an ‘Other-Side’ that when push comes to shove, likely will push AND shove to keep us safe. Like something born of an inner child’s imagination, there’s a sleeping inner dragon inside us all waiting to do whatever’s necessary.
What were some times in your life when you awakened your inner dragon or your ‘Other-Side’? ***Share in the comments.***
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