“Wait,” I said without looking at her. She paused, but I could feel the tension in her hand. She was ready to open the door at any second. “Why did you make me come if you hate them?”
She didn’t move, and we both stared straight ahead, “Because for once, I didn’t want to be the only one having to soak up all their ugly. I know that doesn’t make sense to you, Michael, but maybe it will. There is something horrifying about them, and about everyone in this town. It’s always been there, like some paper cut in my head. There is something drastically wrong with everyone here, Michael. I—I didn’t want to be the only one who had to soak it up for once,” she said, and I felt her arm relax without seeing it.
“Oh,” was all I could think to say.
“Thing is,” she said, and her voice sounded muffled. I wanted to look, but didn’t. “Thing is, you didn’t. It doesn’t even seem to touch you. You’re—it’s like you’re a part of it, or something. I don’t know. Fuck,” she said, and it was more like a whimper than an exclamation. She opened the door, and before I could turn to say goodbye, she was out of the car. The door slammed. I popped the trunk, and though I could see motion in the rearview, I didn’t watch her go.
SIXTEEN
On the way home, I decided something. I couldn’t have told anyone what it was, but something seemed more firm in my head. Because of that, I found myself in the parking lot of the YMCA. Being day after thanksgiving, it was closed. I got out, and walked to the front doors. Cupping my hands around my eyes, I peered in.
Nothing had changed. The front desk was still cluttered, the hallway was still clean enough to count the light bulbs in the reflections. Most of the time, when a building is empty, it seems hollow. There was still—something—here, though.
I jumped halfway out of my skin when someone came around the corner and walked straight to the doors. I kept thinking ‘run’, but I was frozen in place. She was tall and thick through the middle. I couldn’t see much more about her through the darkness, but she came straight at the door. A large ring of keys hung from a cord around her neck. She searched through them for a second, found the right one, then opened the door.
“Can I help you, sir?” Her accent was thick with somewhere else.
“I’m—I used to work here—when I was a kid. I’m back for a visit. I was just—,” I said. Her facial expression never moved.
“Oh. Well, we’re closed. You could come back tomorrow, though. Everyone’ll be back, then.”
“Oh,” I said, and my face must’ve fallen a bit. I hadn’t expected to be able to go inside in the first place, but when she appeared, I had hoped. She looked down, sniffed, then looked back up.
“I was just—I was just about to finish up with the books and things, though. If you—I mean if you’re—when are you leaving town?” she asked.
“Probably tomorrow,” I said. I didn’t know, but it seemed that things were heading that way.
“Oh,” she said, “what did you say your name was?” she asked.
I hadn’t said, “Michael Kendall. I worked here teaching swimming and as a part time custodian a while back. I worked for Mr. Roger.”
“Hell,” she said, her features softening, “Roger Parker?”
“Yeah,” I said.
“Ol’ Roger,” she said, smiling to herself, “well, then—as long as you’re not some axe murderer or something,” she grinned a bit, but her eyes held a question, “you could come in for a bit.”
I smiled, “Thanks. I’m no axe murderer. Or, anyway, I’d be a lousy one,” I said as she opened the door a bit wider so I could get in.
“Why’s that?” she asked. I stepped past her, and stopped: everything looked so tiny. I remembered this front room as huge, but the chairs looked squashed together, now.
“No axe,” I said. She closed the door and locked it again.
“I’ll be back here,” she said, moving back down the hallway. I followed after her, still looking at the front room. It had seemed like some huge cave when I was young; it seemed like a tiny waiting room, now. She went down a side hallway to the main offices. I remembered having to run messages for Mr. Roger down that hall. I’d always felt so proud to have business in those offices. The adults saw me and knew my name and they would smile. They’d think I was a responsible kid, a good kid.
When I came back from remembering, I was still standing in the middle of the hall. I could hear her clicking keys. I walked down the hallway, and found myself pushing open the door to the locker room. The smell hit me; even though no one had been in here for the past two days, probably, the place still smelled the same. Old sweat, slow rusting metal, and powerful cleaning products. It was still humid, the air so thick I almost couldn’t breathe. None of this had changed.
Walking further in, I saw that on the next row of lockers, one of the doors was slightly open. I walked over to it and, without thinking, opened the door. Inside was a stack of dirty clothes, and underneath, some of the things that no boy ever forgets: a jockstrap and a cup were piled on top of a set of dark gray sneakers which seemed three seconds from falling apart completely. Someone had been in a hurry and forgotten to twist their lock one time to the right when they closed the door.
In the back of the locker was a small mirror. I looked in it and was shocked to see so old a face while smelling these smells, feeling the thick air against my skin. I closed the locker, and twisted the lock once to the right; the door snugged closed.
I walked to the back of the room, and leaned against the four foot wall dividing the shower area from the locker area. Five tree-trunk thick poles coming up out of a sea of tile; each one divided into six tiny triangle areas by a two foot wide metal panel that ran from six foot high down to four foot high. It was just enough to hide your face from everyone else if you were a kid. I remembered that.
The first time I’d had to take a communal shower had been almost traumatic. Until that moment, I’d never thought about what my body looked like. It was just my body, a little different from everyone else’s, but it hadn’t mattered. I smiled just then, thinking back on it, but it had been hard to deal with. Adult bodies were scary; huge and hairy in weird places; I tried not to look at them. They were loud when they talked to each other, and laughed. They didn’t seem to even notice that everyone was naked; it didn’t shock them at all.
Other boys closer to my age seemed like me, but I didn’t look at them either. That day had been the first time I’d ever seen someone uncircumcised, and it shocked me. Is something wrong with that boy? I’d thought, or is something wrong with me? The question had occupied my mind for a long time after. I guess when I really started through puberty, though, it sort of went away. Other things became more important.
I was still smiling when I came back to now. I could still remember how hot my face felt those first few days, and how my breath would catch. Eventually, it became no big deal, and I’d see other boys embarrassed and shock quiet their first time. I’d smile, and feel something in my chest seeing them. Seeing Susan sometimes, in the morning, when she hadn’t woken up yet, I’d get something very much like that same feeling.
I walked back out of the locker room, and down the hall to the pool. The water was completely still. I remember that it used to be like this for a few moments on Saturdays, just before they’d open the front doors. I’d come around to the back doors, and use the key that Mr. Roger had given me. I’d walk down the halls those Saturday mornings, and the adults would all say hello to me. I felt important. Then I’d change into my swimsuit and come down that same hall. The water would be just like this; still and smooth, like glass.