Swim

A rural Saskatchewan summer

Reality has set in.  We were really spending the summer in this place.  The kind of place I thought only existed in movies.  A place where things to entertain a 14-year-old are limited. Where the local store owner has never seen a drive though window.  Where the only radio station plays old fashioned country music. Where my friends in the city can send letters to me - general delivery.  Staying in a trailer that should have burned down years ago when it was abandoned.  It is a true testament to 1970s nylon carpeting that the abandoned cigarettes simply burned themselves out, rather than taking this carpet and wall paper covered monstrosity with them. The gas leaks, so we cannot use the stove. The yard is overgrown.

But this is my summer and I will make the most of it.  We walk to the beach to swim or read in the shade.  Mom sometimes takes us to the big lake, where there are some boys to flirt with. We collect large rocks from a road construction area and build our own fire pit (is this stealing or helping?).  We learn to cook everything on a grill or in an electric frying pan or an old coffee warmer. And the store owner, Pearl, is a funny old woman with a kind heart and a brash attitude, who gives us candy when we sit and visit. 

As we are talking one day, Pearl notes that I am a very good swimmer.  I brag that I can swim the 1500m in tournaments.  She tells me that a girl a bit younger than me tried to swim across one of the local lakes and got about half way.  Fowler Lake is just under 3 km.  She issues a challenge: Can I do it?

Of course I can! Years of swimming and the confidence of youth make me certain of it. So it is decided; the following evening, when my dad returns from work, my sister and I will swim the lake.  My dad borrows my uncle’s little aluminum boat; with the kind of outboard motor you drive from a handle attached directly to the motor.  It is fully equipped with all necessary safety equipment, including some ancient looking life preservers. We launch the boat and my dad drives us to the far end of the lake. My mom is with us, not so sure about this endeavor; they will stay with us the whole time.

The thing about any distance sport is that you have to get in that space.  That space where the world shrinks down to a single thing: keep moving.  It is the closest I ever get to mediation.  The problem that became clear to my parents early on, takes me a bit longer to notice: my sister is struggling.  She is falling behind, forcing my parents to use the boat to move back and forth between us.  This becomes more challenging, as the sun is starting to set.  I have reached my meditative state and can’t change my pace.  So mom and dad keep going between us (I will find out later that they eventually give my sister a life jacket, as they don’t want to leave her to check on me).

The swim takes on an out of body quality.   A beaver joins me at one point, swimming beside me for some time, before disappearing under the water.  I have a moment of concern, searching my brain for what beavers eat and wondering if my toes look like little fish in the water, before remembering they eat young tree and branches.  I alternate between a front stroke and swimming on my back.  I notice the stars start to come out and how startlingly quick it is getting dark. My parents continue to check in, asking if I want to stop.  I am confused; I can do this forever.

As the dark shadows of trees draw nearer, I realize there is a small problem.  The lake is surrounded by steep shores populated by thick pine trees.  The only place to climb out is the boat launch.  Which I can no longer see.  Pretty soon lights begin to appear, not too far ahead, first two, then four, six.  People are waiting for me and they are turning their truck lights on so I can see.  I adjust my course and head for the boat launch.  I arrive before my parents, who are still with my sister.

As I am getting closer, I feel something hit my hand.  I realize the water is shallow enough that I am scraping the bottom of the lake bed with my hand. I do not know, until I try to stand, how incredibly tired and weak I am.  I can swim forever, but walking proves to be a challenge.  I am also now aware that the air got much colder when the sun went down.  My uncle wades into the water, carrying a blanket, which he wraps around me.  The locals are laughing and congratulating me. They’re drinking tea and coffee from thermoses and offer me some, which I accept.  I am quickly bundled into a truck, with the heat on full.  As I look around, I see that a few dozen people are standing around and talking, watching the goings on, sharing hot drinks.  Some have brought lawn chairs and are busy visiting.  Pearl is in the truck with me, laughing heartily, telling me the only reason we were allowed to try this in the evening, was because everyone assumed we would give up in the first hour.  I have been swimming for two hours!  Eventually, my sister gives up and gets into the boat with mom and dad.  We all go back to the nasty old trailer and enjoy a large supper.

The summer moves on and the story of my lake swim becomes part of my family lore: just another crazy thing part of a ridiculous summer. I return to this place, to stay in another scary old trailer 24 years later.  My cousin is getting married.  Pearl died a few years ago and the store is closed.  There seem to be fewer people living around it.  Like many other rural communities, it appears to be dying.  We take part in all the usual wedding festivities: a ceremony by the lake, a pig roast, a dance at the hall.  People from the community are friendly and I ask me how I am related.  When I explain I am related to my cousin, through her dad’s family, one of the women instantly asks “Are you the little girl who swam Fowler Lake?”. The story has become part of the lore of this community as well; perhaps it is not dying as quickly as I first thought.

Author's Note

Any feedback is welcome.
And did you have to Google "Saskatchewan"?

Reviews

[barleygirl]

This is a great story of youth & also the way an event like this becomes woven into the lore of a place. Your writing is very well done with almost no typos or grammar issues, easy to follow, everything clearly stated in a balanced mix of sentence structures. Really love the description of swimming as zen (I've done lots in my life & I love the mesmerizing relaxation of it). Really love the whimsy of the beaver following along . . . very fresh & surprising thoughts about what a beaver eats. I also love the end of the swim, uncle with blanket, everyone sitting around partying & watching -- great realistic details.

5th paragraph: "It is the closet I ever get to mediation." . . . think you mean "closest"

Last paragraph: "There seem to be less people living around it." . . . "There seems to be fewer people . . . " might sound a little better.

[Shannon]

Thank you for the kind words and for reading!
Thanks suggestions are spot on, and will be made, one I get to my desk top!

[hcarson]

lovely story :) my grandparents taught swimming, my father is an excellent swimmer (not sure where i went wrong but i guess i won the most important race in getting to be born..all down hill from there lol), if you google the ray sutton swimming gala that is my grandfather, still held in his memory :). i loved your description of the lake and the van, very vivid..i'm pretty sure i could smell it! i did not have to google saskatchewan as i recognised it from some books i read, however my memory is atrocious so i have probably remembered it all wrong...yea,,think i may google it actually haha..i love your stories, you are funny, to the point and explain well..look forward to more :)

[Shannon]

That you so much. These are just silly things, but I really do like the silly stories that encapsulate a time, as place or even an life...
I will google for sure! Saskatchewan is referenced in Dead Pool (pronounced correctly, as Ryan Reynolds is from Western Canada), so I suspect more people have heard of it.
Glad you won the race;)

[Inject Positivity]

wow!!! sounds amazing!!!! you were a swimmer S? that's amazing.... as i knew it is was your true story, i enjoyed it very much...swimming for constant two hours is not a joke, hats off to you...

Even though it was a true story, you made it very exciting, the beginning was great as it gave me a chance to know about the setting of the story...loved the whole set up and delivery.... very cherishable memort for you.... i loved it.... you are a courageous and strong lady....

[Shannon]

Thank you, I am glad you like it. talking to you gave the idea. The two things that stood out for me the most involved the community. The little event this become when it was happening struck me as incredibly funny at the time. And that it also become part of the community's lore.

[Kaliope]

I love swimming, so I can definitely relate to the challenge, the meditative state and the feeling how it is to walk again after hours of moving in the water. However, I'm not entirely sure what the central message of your story is supposed to be. It feels a bit unfocused to be honest. It's a fine description of events, which I assume happened, but what makes a story engaging - at least in my opinion - are the emotions behind the events. Did you feel proud? Did you gain confidence? How did your sister feel about failing? Did it change your relationship in any way? You mentioned the store owner dying some time afterwards - how did that make you feel in relation to the events?
Basically I'm asking how did the events affect the narrator - how did the protagonist change? It doesn't have to be major, but a tiny hint of an arc would have been nice.
Nevertheless, the description of the events was nicely done. Loved the part with the beaver :-)

Cheers,

Kali

[Shannon]

Thanks, I appreciate the feedback and will consider it in the future. I tend to like sotries and ideas more than feelings. So it was nice to have someone draw my attention there.

[busterlee]

I'm guessing this is true. If so I understand why it is an important memory for you. Nice story.

[Shannon]

Of course, but now that you are on to me, I will have to make up some outlandish tale and see if I can write it realistically enough to fool you!

[Shannon]

And thank you!

[busterlee]

I'm posting something for you.

[busterlee]

Yes it is.