Kaitlyn Mummert
Mr. Perago
Eng. Comp. 101
13 March 2013
Poolside Panic
I lounged in my tall chair, supervising the patrons of Lincolnway Pool on an average Wednesday afternoon. My guard chair was situated beside the twelve-feet-deep diving pit. Unfortunately for me, there were two parties planned for the day, which made for a rather stressful day of repeating the rules−that were posted on every wall around the pool−and wondering who actually knew how to swim, since a majority of the kids at the parties weren’t regulars.
While in the middle of pondering who the parties were for, something in the corner of my eye grabbed my attention. A stocky, seventeen-year-old guy was standing on the diving board platform while his father was on the diving board. I blew my whistle and received no response, even though the kid was no more than ten feet away from me. He seemed to be focused on something else. “Hey!” I called, “you can’t be up there when someone else is on the board!”
“Huh? Oh, alright,” he mumbled, still distracted. Mildly annoyed with me, he made his way back down the stairs to wait his turn.
“It’s his first time,” his father chuckled. “He’s a little nervous.” The father leaped off the high dive, leaving me wondering why his son would be nervous due to his never being at Lincolnway before. When the boy returned to the diving platform, he cautiously peered over the edge to his dad in the water. With a smirk on his face, the dad taunted his son. “C’mon, Jason! Don’t be a sissy! You’re only on the medium dive,” he teased. I found it strange that Jason needed so much coaxing simply to go off the diving board.
With a shake of his head, he descended the diving platform a second time. I noticed him pause on the steps and hold his hand to his mouth. He took a few deep breaths before continuing on his way. What a weirdo, I thought. You’d think by his age he’d be able to jump in the water, especially since he seems like a strong swimmer. And what was up with him when he went back down the stairs?
Soon enough, I forgot about Jason and his chickening-out. I had so many other things competing for my attention that I had no time to think about it. The kids from the parties were running all over the concrete, practically asking for a banged-up knee or a cracked head. I was blowing my whistle left and right. As soon as I finished telling one kid not to run, two more would sprint past. When I scolded the runners, I noticed two people riding down the slide together. Then, a father threw his little daughter in the pool near other patrons. Without hesitation, a group of boys dove into a shallow area. It was a never ending cycle of whistle-blowing and rule-repeating. After a while, “No running,” “Don’t dive there,” “One person on the slide,” and “Please, don’t throw your child,” turned into “Hey! Stop that,” and “No way.” The day was repetitive and boring. I wanted so badly for something exciting to happen so that the cycle would be momentarily broken.
Because it was a particularly hot, sticky afternoon, the heat really got to me. Focusing after spending hours in the sun was a task that I had yet to master. Remaining diligent even though I knew I had a dinner break in ten minutes was the hardest thing I did all day. My mind was already on the food I was going to have: chicken tenders and curly fries, all dipped in honey mustard. That’d be so perfect paired with a vanilla coke…
Suddenly, the sound of splashing ended my day dreaming. I looked beneath my chair to find the source of the noise. Someone was in the water, dramatically flailing their arms. That’s real mature. I thought, pretending you’re drowning? Awesome. I looked to see who the joker was, only to find that it was Jason. His face was in the water and his shoulders barely grazed the surface. His flailing arms stirred up the water and caused a ruckus. I remembered his standing on the stairs earlier and breathing heavy. His father had meant that he was nervous about jumping, not that he was nervous about being at Lincolnway for the first time. Jason was scared, not strange. And now he’s drowning.
“Oh my gosh!” I gasped with the realization that he wasn’t fooling around. I felt my eyes become huge with worry as I yanked off the shirt covering my suit, along with my whistle and sunglasses. I reached directly under the chair and found the red, rectangular buoy I needed if I planned on not sinking with Jason. His father crouched at the edge of the deck, ready to jump in for his son.
“I’ll get him,” his dad offered, slightly calmer than I expected.
“Don’t!” I managed. The last thing I needed was two people at the bottom of the pool. I leaped in the water, which was a frigid shock compared to the humid air. There was five feet of space between the two of us, and I easily bridged the gap with a couple of stokes. When I reached him, my chest was to his back, and the long, rectangular buoy was between us. He was a great deal bigger than me; it was difficult to put my arms under his, in an effort to pull his face out of the water. As I attempted to calm him, I spoke to him in an even tone.
“It’s okay; I’m right here. You need to calm down so I can get you to the side,” I said in an artificial-calm voice. He was still in panic mode. I decided that I needed to take a risk to get him to calm down. I removed the buoy from between us and tried to transfer it in front of his chest. Bad idea. His thrashing pulled my head under the water for a brief second, but I was able to regain my composure and make the swap. Jason finally calmed down enough for me to pull him to the side of the pool, where both of his parents, my boss, and two coworkers were anxiously waiting.
“What a place to have a panic attack, huh?” his dad jested. “It was his first time going off the diving board. Thank you so much,” he added on a serious note.
“Maybe it should be his last time for a while,” I suggested with an exhausted smile.
“Thank you for doing that,” Jason sheepishly uttered, once his breathing had calmed down from his panic attack and from being generally exhausted.
“No problem,” I replied. “Just be careful, please.”
As I looked at the crowd on the deck, I found my boss. He gave me a thumbs-up and a towel to dry off. He told me to take my dinner break and to relax for a bit. I hopped out of the pool, and noticed how shaky I was; I had experienced quite the adrenaline rush. My knees shook and my breathing was slightly faster than normal. Everything happened so fast−in a matter of two to three minutes−that I hadn’t had a lot of time to think.
When I arrived at the snack bar, I grabbed my dinner and thought about the events that had taken place. I realized how important it was to do my job−or any job for that matter−diligently and accurately. My actions impacted others in a major way, and it was up to me to decide which way that was. By working as a lifeguard, I was responsible for the wellbeing of patrons of the pool. It was up to me to understand that my actions have consequences, whether they are positive or negative. I made a commitment to myself from that point on that I would make more of an effort to go above and beyond with the job I was assigned so that I could make the biggest, most positive impact on everyone around me. From then on, I took my job more seriously and applied my newfound epiphany to other aspects of my life.