Daddy Don't Hit Me - January 17, 2007

By BC Woods

by bc woodsWhen my sister was six she went to her first swimming lesson and, as with everything else, it took her less than a second to pass judgment on swimming pools. My sister looked at the beautiful swim instructor. Her mouth crumpled. She emitted a noise like poison.

Like a fireman hearing a siren my father took action. My sister didn't even have to float in her water wings for fifteen seconds before he kicked down the wooden door, ran into the pool, and pulled her out. He then cussed at the swimming instructor for ten minutes, tucked my sister under one arm, and took her out for ice cream. To this day, it is all my sister can do to stay afloat.

I would like you to contrast this to what happened the first time my family went to a Waterslide Park.

Upon arrival my father handed me a towel and a bottle of suntan lotion before wishing me "the best of luck." Two water wings hugged each of my arms like the firm, reassuring grip of the parents I have never had. I had absolutely no swimming experience whatsoever, and I was seven years old.

I decided with the wisdom and fortitude of a seven year old that the day was going to "totally kick ass." In an effort to optimize the amount of "kick ass" I could extract from the day I made the best decision I could: I headed over to the wave-pool.

I'm not going to give you sizes or dimensions of that beast. I would probably be disappointed in my recollection if I looked it up. With time, my mind has probably blown all that happened out of proportion. Still, I'm going to try to relate to you the sheer fucking terror of being seven years old in the belly of a monster.

It was like standing on the shore of an alien planet, with giant waves, enormous gravity, and fat sweaty tourists wearing disgusting bathing suits in place of extra-terrestrials. It was a friendless place that could have snuffed out my life in a moment.

I was thrilled.

The first thing I did was rip off my water-wings and stash them inside of my folded towel. The second thing I did was dive right into that fucking pool like it was the Fountain of Youth. I had barely made it out ten feet before a wave knocked me over, and I had to get my feet under me again.

I spent all of five minutes in the shallow end, learning to tread water, avoiding the eyes of lifeguards who were wondering just where my supervision had gone, before deciding I had bigger fish to fry. I saw, what seemed to be a mile down the pool, a safety rope past which no one could swim. In fact, to even get to that safety rope, I would have to go through another safety rope past which you were supposed to have an inner tube.

Dog paddling at half a mile an hour, making splashes as high as my own body, and spitting water out of my nose when I became submerged under a new tidal wave, I bravely and stupidly made my way toward the source of the waves. I was like a Muslim seeking Mecca. Nothing would stop me.

No one stopped me, not the lifeguards, not the adults. I just kept paddling. I made my way through a forest of fat old women on inner tubes. I was jarred in the head by buoyant fat bodies every time they sloshed from side to side. I avoided the asshole teenager who was splashing every which way in order to impress his girlfriend. I avoided everyone, until at long last... I had passed the final safety rope.

There I was, a tiny little boy, alone in an ocean that was about to be overcome by a very large longitudinal wave. It didn't matter. I had the pride of having made it into that magical land only adults are supposed to go. I had made it to "The Deep End."

For a minute that lasted eternity I treaded water in the deep, alone, with not even a giant squid for company. And then at long last, I felt the wave start to build.

Let me tell you how these things work. Before a series of canals spew out the water that will combine together to make the next wave, they first intake a great deal of water from the pool. This also causes a sudden movement of water backwards. The safety rope that I had crossed had been there to save me from just this action.

When the canals began to consume the water in front of them, I was immediately sucked down as though some hellish sea serpent had wrapped its tail around my flailing feet and pulled me in to devour me.

My lungs burned. The air inside of them compressed down to nothing. I had almost no warning to take a breath. It was the first time in my life that I realized I could die. I could be crushed out in this pool and no one would know until the waves washed my body up in the shallow end.

When I looked up through the mountains of water that lay on top of me, and saw the faded light of a not-too distant sun I honestly made my peace with whatever power controls the universe and accepted that I was going to end. I closed my eyes, and it seemed the waters around me had gone still.

They had. The pumps had finished sucking. Now it was time for the wave to start.

Thinking that some miracle had saved me, I took advantage of the still water to fight my way toward the surface, I had no time however. The wave took hold of me again, this time pushing me forward.

Have you ever been slapped by a giant? Neither have I. But if I had, I imagine it would feel the same as being slammed down to the bottom of the pool by that wave. Slowly, as the force of the wave ground onward, my body dug into the textured floor of the wave-pool, getting pricked and sliced with every inch of ground I covered, until at last, the forces pushing forward exceeded those pushing me down. Straightening my back like a dolphin I became a human missile.

Ten miles an hour doesn't sound fast, but if you're under water that speed is amazing. I jetted down the length of the pool like a rocket. What had taken me thirty minutes to swim was going to take me less than a minute to make-up.

I didn't wash up on the shallow end like a beached whale. I was stopped long before I got that far. Opening my eyes as I continued along my deadly trajectory, I saw the ass of a fat woman, barely contained in a one piece bathing suit. I was headed right for it.

As I drew nearer my target, I could make out every stretched, cellulite creased pore of her ass. Her fat seemed to shine with a light of its own in the murky water. I opened my mouth to scream and that's when I made contact... with her ass crack.

As though I had been punched in the face by a boxer with a very cushy fist, my head snapped to one side. As my body deflected upward and out of the water, I flew through the air in a majestic four-foot arc... directly above a family in the shallow end.

Everything that happened next was total confusion. Being too intent on breathing, I could barely think. The family I had landed in the middle of wanted to know where the fuck I had come from. The fat woman I had collided with was screaming that there was a shark in the pool. This had caused a crowd to form around her. I was just about to tell the kind looking man who was holding me out of the water what had happened when I heard my father's voice coming toward me.

"God damn it Brandon, you got your towel all wet."

He took me from the nice man who was helping me to breathe and wrapped me in my wet towel. His hands were like swollen wood. They hurt.

"I've been looking all over for you. Your sister's hungry. We're going back to the hotel to get something to eat."

As my father carried me over his shoulder like a large bag of laundry, my head swung to and fro like a pendulum. In such a state I could only thank God my sister didn't have to bear the indignity of an empty stomach. It's about time there was some justice in this world.