Demonstrations were going to be on Wednesdays. It was strange not getting ready for school in the middle of the week, but getting out swimsuit and towel instead.
Mr. Neils picked us up at 9:00, and we drove to a high school about 50
miles away. It had a pool, and we were going to give rescue and CPR demos and lessons. We found the pool and a coach greeted us.
“There’s a class before lunch and one after,” he said. “The kids don’t come in for another half hour, so you can swim if you want to. Need any equipment?”
“This is no-aids rescue,” Mr. Neils said.
Penny and I found the girls’ locker room and changed. The water was nice and cool, so we jumped in and swam while Mr. Neils got the CPR dummies out of the car. He stopped us at 25 laps.
“I wanted you to warm-up, not exhaust yourselves!”
“We’re fine,” I said, smiling.
“Penny, did you know you were only breathing every 9 strokes?” he said.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You must be incredibly fit to conserve energy like that.”
“All muscle!” she said.
“Here’s some candy bars,” he said.
“Thanks!” we said and ate a couple.
Soon we could hear the class in the locker room — all boys. They came out
to the pool and the coach herded them into the low bleachers. “Okay, listen up! This is Mr. Neils, a specialist in first aid and rescue, and his two assistants.”
“Those
wimps!”
“They’re just teenyboppers!”
“Listen up! Girls, I saw you warming up. How many laps did you do?”
“Just 25,” Penny said.
Dead silence in the bleachers.
“Okay. Now you know who you’re dealing with. If you don’t want to learn from experts, then you don’t need to be on the swim team. I’ll hand the class over to Mr. Neils.”
“Okay, boys. I’m used to teaching college students, so I’ll expect some mature behavior here. We’re going to do some rescue demos, and then you’ll be trying it. And after that we’ll teach you the basics of resuscitation. We’ll be using dummies, because you can’t practice some parts of CPR on someone who doesn’t need it. ANY wise cracks during the demos, and that person is out. Any questions on that?”
He talked about rescue holds while Penny and I sat on the edge of the pool.
A few of the younger guys made eyes at us. I kind of ignored it, but I think Penny was excited — and embarrassed.
“Penny, would you be a conscious victim, please.”
She gracefully dove in, popped up in the middle and started splashing around yelling, “Help!” The guys laughed.
One guy threw out his arms and said, “I’ll save you!”
Mr. Neils gave him a dirty look. “Ariel, chest-carry her in and circle with her near the side.”
I dove in and pretended to rescue Penny. We swam together in circles, the teacher explaining the hold and when to use it.
“Okay, you two, clear out.”
We dove under the water and headed for the other end of the pool. When we came up, the guys were counting off into two groups. They went in six at a time, and six more rescued them. Then they traded roles. Penny and I sat on the side and talked about which ones were cute.
“I like tall guys, except they usually have bad posture,” Penny said.
“I
think
he’s cute,” I said, pointing at a guy in the water.
“Do you see anybody who looks like a Sprite?”
“Umm. One or two. See that quiet blond guy? He could be deep.”
“Maybe.”
They finished practicing, and then we showed them how to rescue an unconscious person, including how to get them out of the water. They practiced it, and then we demonstrated what I call water-logged CPR, when the victim already had lungs full of water. We went through the steps with the dummies as Mr. Neils narrated. One guy almost cracked a joke, but caught himself.
After that, Mr. Neils took them one at a time on a CPR dummy. “The rest of you practice rescues. Ariel and Penny will watch and give pointers.”
So we just walked around the pool, watching the guys and occasionally saying something. One guy swam over to the side near us and said, “How far can you swim?”
“I start to get tired at about two miles,” I said. “Penny still looks fresh.”
“Amazing!” he said. “Are you going to the Olympics?”
“Not me!” I said.
“We’ve got better things to do,” Penny said and winked at me.
Class was over and the guys were getting out. The coach told us we could eat lunch in the teachers’ lounge. We looked at each other with excitement and headed for the locker room.
The coach showed us where the teachers’ lunch line was, then the lounge with our trays.
“Everybody, this is Mr. Neils and his two lovely assistants. These two can out-swim anyone on our swim teams!” All the teachers clapped. I was embarrassed, so I just started eating. After a little while they ignored us, so we could just listen to all the teacher-talk.
After lunch, the coach told us it was an hour before the next swim class, and asked what we would like to do.
“Could we use your library?” Penny asked.
“Of course! I’ll show you, and introduce you to the librarian.”
The pudgy librarian was excited that someone actually wanted to use her
library. I think she would have read the books to us if we had let her, but we said we could find what we wanted. Penny found a book on Tarot cards. I didn’t feel like studying, so I just floated around. I kept thinking about the quiet blond guy.
Mr. Neils came and got us. We went through the whole routine with the girls. They seemed harder to me, and took me and Penny even less seriously than the boys. Near the end of class, some snobbish girls challenged us to a race.
“Only if it’s okay with your coach,” I said.
They went and talked to her. A minute later she blew her whistle and got everybody out of the water.
“You girls didn’t believe me when I said these were expert swimmers.
Okay, so we have a challenge, which has been accepted. Nine year old Penny and eleven year old Ariel against two swimmers of your choice. We only have a few minutes. One hundred meters — two laps.”
The girls talked amongst themselves, and two strong-looking ones stepped up to the starting blocks.
“Are you ready for this, Penny?” I asked.
“Four kicks, one breath per length.”
I
smiled.
Mr. Neils looked amused. We got ready.
The coach blew her whistle and I dove in, found my form, and started to pull, pull, pull. Turn and breathe. One breath per length was a stretch for me, but in a pinch I could do it. Turn and breathe. I knew Penny was ahead of me, always would be, and that was okay. Turn and breathe. Last length. Pull, pull, pull. Up and breathe!
Penny was standing in the water beside me, but where were the high-school girls? The entire room was laughing. I looked back and saw them making their last turn at the far end. Penny was trying not to crack up. I held it in.
The other girls finished, looked at us standing there, and one said, “You get tired after only one lap?”
“Okay!” yelled the coach. “To the locker room!”
I could see some of the girls who watched telling the racers what
happened.
Mr. Neils came over to us. “Well done. You want to get dressed now?”
“I think we should wait until they go to their next class,” I said, still suppressing my laughter.