Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great (5 page)

   
Libby doesn't care about going to the beach anymore. Because the pool is full of boys. Besides the life guards and the pool boys who work there, plenty of other boys come just to swim. My sister, in her new bikini, thinks she is just the greatest!

   
But after she saw my swimming teacher she asked my mother to sign her up for lessons too. My teacher,Marty, is what Libby calls
terrific
. I do not care one way or the other what my swimming teacher looks like. Because I don't ever want to swim. I know I won't be able to. I know I will sink to the bottom and everyone will laugh and Marty will have to save me.

   
I told him this right off, when my mother signed me up for fifteen private lessons.

   
"I'll never be able to swim," I said.

   
"Sure you will," Marty told me.

   
"No, I mean it! I won't!"

   
"Anybody can learn to swim," Marty said.

   
"Well, I'm never going to put my face in the water. I'll tell you that!"

   
"Sure you will. It's easy. There's nothing to be afraid of."

   
"Afraid! Me? Is that what you think?"

   
Marty just smiled.

   
"I am not afraid of anything!" I told him. "Nothing! I just think it's dumb of my mother to waste her money on swimming lessons. Because if I felt like it I could jump right in and swim as good as anybody!"

   
"That's great," Marty said. "Tomorrow you can show me how you do that."

   
I didn't answer him.

   
That night Libby begged my parents for swimming lessons.

   
"You swim very well now," Mom told her.

   
"But think of all Marty could teach me," Libby said.

   
"You don't need him to teach you anything," Daddy told her. "Now that's that!"

   
"Sheila gets all the good things!" Libby cried. "It's not fair."

   
"You can have my lessons," I said. "All fifteen of them."

   
But Daddy and Mom said, "Oh no!" together.

   
The next afternoon I told Mom that I had an awful stomachache and I couldn't possibly go to the pool. She gave me a spoon of pink peppermint stuff and told me I'd be fine in a few minutes.

   
When we got to the pool I told her I had a sore throat and that people with sore throats shouldn't go swimming. Mom said it was probably just an allergy to the trees. Since when am I allergic to trees?

   
I told her that I forgot my bathing cap so I wouldn't be able to put my head in the water. But she pulled out a new cap and said she brought one along just in case. And then she delivered me to Marty.

   
He was waiting at the shallow end of the pool.

   
"I don't feel very well," I told him.

   
"You're just nervous," he said.

   
"Me, nervous? That's very funny. I never get nervous!"

   
"Good, I'm glad to hear that. It's much easier to work with a relaxed person than a nervous one."

   
"Do nervous people sink in the water?" I asked.

   
"Oh . . . sometimes," Marty said. "But I haven't lost more than three or four."

   
I stepped away from him.

   
"Hey, that's a joke, Sheila!"

   
"I know," I said. "Don't you think I know a joke when I hear one?"

   
"Come and sit down at the edge of the pool," Marty said, lowering himself into the water. "I'll get wet first."

   
I wished there weren't so many people around. If I had to take lessons why couldn't I take them in the middle of the night when nobody could see me?

   
"Now the first thing I'm going to show you is how to blow bubbles. Watch this." Marty put his face into the water and big bubbles came up. Soon he raised his head and said, "You see . . . you just blow bubbles. It's a cinch!"

   
"I told you," I said. "I'm not putting my face into the water."

   
"I can't teach you to swim if you don't."

   
"Well then, I guess you won't be able to teach me." I stood up and started to walk away.

   
"Wait a minute, Sheila!" Marty reached out and grabbed my ankle. "Get wet first . . . before you make up your mind."

   
"My mind is made up," I said.

   
"Well, get wet anyway. I might get fired if you don't at least get wet."

   
I didn't want Marty to lose his job because of me so I walked down the three steps and stood in water up to my waist. "It's too cold for me," I said. "I'll get pneumonia or something. I'm getting out!"

   
"Sheila! This pool must be eighty degrees today. You're not going to catch anything!"

   
Marty scooped me up and started walking around the pool with me.

   
I said, "Put me down. . . you put me down right now or I'll scream!"

   
"If you do everyone will hear and look over to see what's going on. Is that what you want?"

   
I think he's a mind reader. I hate him! "What are you going to do with me?" I asked.

   
"Nothing. I just want you to get used to the water. And to see that I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

   
"If I drown you're going to be in big trouble."

   
"You're not going to drown. I already told you that. And once you learn how to swim you'll be able to save yourself so there won't be anything for you to worry about."

   
"Who says I'm worried? I never worry!" I said.

   
"That's swell," Marty told me.

   
"Did you mean it when you said if I learn to swim I'll be able to save myself?"

   
"Yes," Marty said.

   
"Well . . . as long as I'm here I guess I might as well. So go ahead, teach me! But remember, I Won't put my face in the water."

   
Marty sighed. "All right . . . I'll teach you with your face out of the water,"

   
"But you said you couldn't teach me that way!"

   
"Well, I just remembered I can. I'll teach you to swim like a dog."

   
"I don't want to swim like a dog!" I said. "I don't even like dogs!"

   
"Maybe you'll like them when you learn how to swim like one," Marty said, smiling.

   
He gave me a kickboard. He taught me how to hang on with my hands and kick with my legs. At first I wasn't even a good kicker; I only used one leg. I kept the other one on the bottom of the pooi because I felt safer that way. I was hoping I could fool Marty into thinking I was using both of them. But it didn't work. He said, "That's not bad, Sheila. But this time let's use both feet, okay?"

   
So, for the first time in my life, I took both feet off the bottom of the pool and I kicked. And I didn't sink, But I knew that was because I was hanging onto the kickboard. If I didn't have that I'd be on the bottom in a second.

   
My lesson lasted half an hour and all I had to do was practice kicking. When it was over I told Marty it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. He said he'd see me tomorrow, same time.

   
I ran over to my mother and she said she was proud of me, even though I didn't put my face in. I told her Marty said I didn't have to. And that I'd never have to because he was going to teach me to swim like a dog and dogs are very good swimmers. . . everyone knows that! My mother looked at me funny and said, "Well, you and Jennifer have something in common after all, don't you?"

   
But I didn't answer. Because I heard someone calling "Sunny Sheila Tubman . . . Sunny Sheila Tubman. . . watch this!"

   
I looked up at the high diving board and saw Betsy

   
Ellis. And if Betsy was at the pool Mouse probably was too. Did she see me in the water with Marty? I hope not. But I guess now she won't want to be my friend anyway. So what's the difference if she did see me!

   
Betsy called me one more time, then she did a perfect dive into the water. I couldn't believe it. "Did you see that?" I asked my mother. "She's only four years old!"

   
"Beautiful, wasn't it?" Mom said. "I hear she's a champion swimmer."

   
"I don't see her anywhere," I said, searching the pool. "Do you suppose she's all right? Shouldn't she be up by now?"

   
"There she is," Mom said, pointing. "She swam right across under water."

   
I wondered if maybe Marty could teach me to swim like that. I could just see myself as a swimming champion. I would learn to do the most beautiful dives anyone ever saw. I would be able to swim back and forth in the pool at least twenty times without running out of breath. Mouse would beg me to be her friend. People frQm all over would come to watch me on Sundays. And Marty would tell them,
She's remarkable. . . she couldn't swim at all when she came here
. And of course I would be able to do everything without ever getting my face wet. I'll bet there isn't a dog anywhere who can dive without wetting his face.

   
THAT night, after supper, the doorbell rang. "I'll get it," I hollered, running to see who it was.

   
It was Mouse. "Hi," she said. "Come on out."

   
I opened the screen door and stepped outside onto the front porch.

   
"How was your swimming lesson?" she asked.

   
"It was fine," I said. "I used to do a lot of swimming when I was a little kid, but

   
Mouse didn't let me finish. "But where you come from nobody ever goes swimming, right?"

   
"Kind of," I said.

   
"If a person doesn't know how to do something a person should just admit it, don't you think?" Mouse said.

   
"Oh sure," I told her. "If there was something I couldn't do I'd be the first to admit it"

   
"Me too," Mouse said. "Like for instance, I can't turn cartwheels. I've tried and tried but I just can't get my legs up straight. Now, what can't you do?"

   
"Oh, I can't turn cartwheels either. At least I don't think I can. I've never even tried."