Stuck

One summer, long ago, I was swimming a the Pineland City Pool. I was probably about 12. I don' t think I was in junior high yet. My friend Becky was there, too. The two of us filled our summer days diving for quarters and seeing who could swim the farthest on one breath. My mother managed the pool during those summer months, and I spent almost every day in the clear, chlorinated water. I was as much a fixture at that pool as the lifeguard stand or the curvy water slide. Most people paid little attention to me. I could swim better than most of the lifeguards, so I received little supervision. If I were underwater for minutes at a time, no one was worried. They would just assume I was attempting to set a new record.

On this particular day, Becky and I were daring each other to attempt death defying, potentially painful feats. It was only half an hour before closing, and I had already executed an intentional belly flop, held my breath for 2 minutes and walked across the bottom of the deep end of the pool. We were running out of things to do. Becky had just finished doing a flip without holding her nose. After she had finished coughing up all the water she had inhaled, she said she had a great idea for my next dare. I had to sit on the drain of the pool for 15 seconds.

What Becky didn't know is that just that morning, I had heard my mom say that she was turning the pumps off. I took this to mean that obviously, the drain would not be working. Becky did not have this insider's knowledge, and I didn't share it with her. I accepted the dare with absolutely no fear.

Down I swam to the bottom of the pool. I noticed that the cover was off the drain, some one had snuck in to the pool earlier in the week and managed to break it. But since the drain was not working anyway, I knew I had nothing to worry about. I moved into a sitting position and took my place on the drain.

Then the strangest thing happened. The drain latched onto my bottom and was holding me captive under the water. I began to panic. The drain was supposed to be off. I wasn't supposed to be sucking. I tried with no success to push myself off the drain. People continued to swim around me and jump over me. They assumed I was just goofing around. I began to panic. Where were the lifeguards? My life was obviously in need of guarding. I was certain that I could hear Becky laughing at me above the water. What was I going to do? Would I die down here in the bottom of the pool? What would everyone say? Would my mom be too mad at me to give me a nice funeral? Would she bury me in my itchy Easter dress?

Just when I had accepted my imminent, watery demise, I had a moment of clarity. I wedged my fingers between my bottom and the drain, managing to break the seal of the suction. I was free. I pushed off the bottom of the pool and swam as fast as I could to the surface where Becky was waiting with a slightly worried look. I burst out of the water, gasping for air. Then, I burst into tears and swore I would never play with Becky again. Ever. (We were friends again the next day) As angry as I was at her for her attempted murder of me, I was greatly relieved to be alive. I got out of the pool and wrapped myself in a fluffy towel and waited for closing time to finally arrive.

After I showered and went to my room, hoping to forget this horrible day had ever happened, I saw something the likes of which I had never seen. A dark purple ring circled my bottom. I had my very first hickey. On. My. Butt. I was mortified and very confused (I didn't know what a hickey was or how one was created). I was too afraid of getting into trouble to show my mom. So, I stayed home for the next week until the evidence of the dare gone horribly wrong had vanished. For the next few years, I was still wary of that drain, careful never to go too close. But still, to this day, I cannot turn down a good dare.