The next time we got together with Issa, we went running. He went more than two miles before he got tired. We showed him the spring near the picnic area, and we all took drinks of the cold, clean water. We talked about religion, and we told him we all went to church, but we didn’t think it mattered what religion you were. He was surprised we said that, but he agreed.
About a week after that, we all met at the college pool to go swimming.
Issa could swim okay, but he didn’t seem to believe that Penny was our Master of Water until some of the college swim team members asked her to swim with them and help them with their rhythm. He apologized. We talked about physical skills, and Issa thought they were important to knowing God. We agreed with him.
One day my mom invited all us friends over to dinner. I told her we had a new friend, and she was glad. I think she expected a girl my age. But it was fun and my parents liked Issa. After dinner we played a game and Michael tooted on his recorder, trying to get back into practice. Issa told us about the different books the Jews used, and how Hebrew was supposed to be a magical alphabet. Penny asked him if he had a girlfriend. He didn’t.
“Mom and Dad,” I said at dinner the following week, “Penny and I want to do a swim. Could you help us with transportation? We could make a picnic out of it.”
“We don’t have anything planned for Saturday, do we, Honey?”
“Nope,” Dad said. “Where?”
I got out my county map. “The picnic will be here. It’s a nice little beach.
That will be after we swim, of course. We’ll meet you there, we can have a picnic, and then come home.”
“Okay. I’ll get food ready. Is noon okay?”
“Perfect. Thanks, Mom!”
Penny came over Saturday morning while I was still cleaning the horse stall, so she brushed Tara while I finished, then we got ready to go.
“Stall’s as clean as the hospital, Mom. We’re heading out. The map and our receivers are on the kitchen table. We’ll meet you there at noon.”
“Have fun, you two!”
We both rode out to the swimming beach on my bicycle.
“Did they really think it was okay, or did you fudge?” Penny asked.
“I fudged. They know they’re meeting us after a swim. I just didn’t scream that we’re crossing the inlet. But they know we swim long distances. And they know I’m on the water rescue team. What else can I do?”
“Yeah. I just hope they don’t ground you for a hundred years.”
I chuckled. “What do you think about Issa?” I asked.
“I like him. Maybe we can decide for sure at Lammas. He has to sign the Pact before he can come to the Grove, right?”
“Long before! Is it time to swim?” I asked.
“I didn’t bring my watch. You feel ready?”
“Five strokes, slow pace. Last year I had to go to three strokes at about two and a half miles.”
“No canoe. We watch each other, right?” Penny said.
“As long as we’re Wood Sprites!”
We got in the water and started swimming. It felt a little strange, at first, not having the canoe around. We passed the buoy and headed into open water at a steady pace.
I think it was a little choppier than last year. I could see Penny near me.
There was no one to call off the miles, so I just had to trust my body. I swam until I knew I needed more air, then came up treading water for a good look. I could see the pattern of trees ahead of us that marked our destination. Penny
came up too.
“Halfway, I think. Still five strokes?”
“Good,” she said.
We started swimming again. I was okay for a while, but then my arms started to get heavy. I pushed a little farther and then turned over to float.
Penny turned over with me.
“Heavy arms,” I said.
“Right.”
After a minute I started swimming again. I saw Penny start too. I felt much better, and had a good five-stroke rhythm again. I could feel the water flow by under me. I was in good shape for several minutes.
Heavy arms and a little light-headed. I turned over to float. Penny joined me.
“Three quarters?” she wondered.
“About.”
I kicked lightly and breathed to recharge my energy and rest my arms. I realized I was hungry enough to eat a bear. After a minute or so, I started swimming again. I took it easy, three strokes per breath. I knew we were close, and I knew I was tired. Steady rhythm, Ariel. Do it right. Conserve energy. Only a quarter mile to go maybe. My arms are a little heavy. Just a little more, Ariel. Rhythm. Is that the bottom? Take me in, arms. The beach!
We crawled onto the sand and gravel. I looked around as soon as the water was out of my eyes, and could see my mom and dad running up the beach toward us. I wanted to stand up to greet them, but I was too exhausted, so I just lay beside Penny in the sand.
They knelt down beside me. I smiled up at my mom. There were tears in her eyes.
“Why are you crying, Mom?”
“Because . . . because . . .”
I knew she was fighting the temptation to say something negative, like why didn’t you tell us, or something like that. Please be proud of me, Mom.
“Because I have an amazing daughter.”
“Thanks, Mom!” I turned to Penny. “Ready to walk?”
“Sure. I’m starved!”
“We brought lots of goodies!” Dad said.
Penny and I got up and walked down the beach with my parents. I was proud of my mom. It must be hard not to worry.
“How far is it across?” Dad asked.
“Four miles. I was better at it last year.”
My mom looked at me with surprise and shock in her eyes, but caught herself. “Well . . . you’re not as streamlined as you were a year ago.”
“You mean I’m getting fat?”
“No, you’re just growing up. You’re becoming a young lady.”
Her words hit me like a hammer. I guess I knew I was entering puberty, but I didn’t want to admit it to myself. It meant too many things that I wasn’t sure I was ready for. Now that she had said it, I couldn’t put it out of my mind. It meant that I would have to work harder at physical training, like Michael had to. It meant I couldn’t torpedo through the water like Penny did.
It meant all kinds of stuff about boys. I tried not to think about it.
We got to the place where my parents had the picnic ready. There was fried chicken, salad, fresh biscuits, and cold milk . . . yum! My dad asked what it was like swimming that far. At first I wasn’t sure what to say. Then it struck me that maybe he wasn’t just parenting.
“You really want to know? I mean, you’re really interested?”
“I sure am. I’ve never swam more than a mile.”
I looked at Penny. Her mouth was full of fried chicken. “Well, we don’t sprint. We use a steady rhythm, starting out at five strokes per breath . . .” I didn’t go into the gory details about getting light-headed and floating above the water and all that. I didn’t want to scare my mom. As I was talking, I realized something.
“Penny, remember when I first stopped and treaded water? That was where I blew it. I forgot to float and really rest. That’s why I had to stop again so soon!”
“I remember,” Penny said. “I forgot too, and treading water doesn’t let us rest at all.”
Me and my parents talked some more. After a while I noticed that Penny was sitting on a rock near the water looking across the inlet. I went over and sat down with her. “Penny, you’ve always stopped for me when I get tired.
Would you like it if me and Michael borrowed Tom’s canoe sometime so you can swim it by yourself?”
“Would you, Ariel?!”
“Sure. I know my limits. You should have a chance to find yours.”
“Thanks!”