Chapter two of a writing I titled “A Life Worth Living.” A fictional story of a group of young girls and their particular entanglement in the same life events.
– For my daughter; Anna Estelle; Be someone’s hope.
- 🔊40: “A Life Worth Living,” Chapter 1
- 🔊45: “A Life Worth Living,” Chapter 3
- 🔊49: “A Life Worth Living,” Chapter 4
Chapter 2: The “Public” Pool
During the summer, I spent most of my time at the pool in Derringer Park. My house sat caddy-corner from the park and the pool is within view of my living room window, so my mom was okay with me going there by myself almost every day. Even though a pool-pass was waaay more allowance than I could ever save for; I had one. My dad was once employed by Mr. Derringer, Lexi’s dad, and he was a big shot in town so I got one every year — for absolutely free!
There was a mansion on the other side of the pool, in the park that belonged to Lexi’s parents. Lexi and her parents lived there and ran the pool. It wasn’t, really, a mansion; and it also, wasn’t really a park; and it wasn’t, really Lexi’s parents either. I later, found out that her family was only living there because of an obligation from some family contract that came out of a crazy lawsuit that once happened within the family. There always seemed to be some kind of drama in that family; something’s always having to be squashed by Mr. Derringer.
The “park” was named after Julliard Derringer.
(There was a plaque as we passed into the pool and Lexi pointed it out eeeeverytime she could.)
Julliard Derringer is some sort of long-lost relative who invented axle grease or something. He once planned a factory on the site that him and another rich man had purchased out from under the public school system. Something about city zoning or “code” or something, had stopped the project. Eventually, they gave up on the land and moved to a bigger city — but not before tearing down the entire, two blocks of homes and businesses it inhabited. The park sat completely barren for like, twenty-two years before the town enforced another code, forcing the family to rush to clean it up. That’s when they just flattened the land, installed a few benches and called it a park. Even two of the benches had to be removed once they built the pool…
Lexi’s house was the only structure left on the block, until her mom — I heard — in her younger days, begged her husband to have the pool put in. He did have the pool built, but out of spite for his wife’s begging — and his own greed — he also built all the amenities for it to be run as a public pool; showers, locker rooms, staff rooms, and even a concession stand. Mrs. Grishom — who kept her maiden name out of “prestige” — she “claimed” — slowly raised the admission price until only the wealthiest folks could visit. It was basically turned into the “Cold Cat Ladies’” — as they refer to themselves — private, party pool; Mrs. Grishom and all her “friends” would hang out there all summer while their husbands did business with all the other husbands in town.
The “Cold Cat Ladies” — all sunbaked into a golden brown; drinking fancy, gross drinks with green olives in them —yuck! — at 10 in the morning every day, gave themselves that name. Well, most of it. It’s supposedly — they say — something about wealth and good fortune. They fancied themselves prosperous and able to attain great wealth with ease because they’re “just so original” as Mrs. Grishom would boast on a regular basis. The other people in town though, have their own thoughts of the “Cat Ladies” — adding the “cold” part, on account of the way they do business. They’re nice ladies, most of them; until someone found out they were late on a bill or something. Sometimes, they wouldn’t even know it until it was too late. I would hear my dad commenting about them to my mom every so often. It seemed to get under a lot of people’s skin.
The mansion wasn’t actually that big, either! It was just a bit bigger than most of the houses around. There were monstrosities that added elements of wealth to its crazy appearance, like; four, giant, ridiculous front porch pillars — under last year’s Christmas lights, still hanging from the rooftop; and huge, ugly awnings over the windows.
The really tall fountain of a giant deer, right in middle of the front yard, also gave the impression that it was more of a museum than a home — the fountain didn’t even work.
Sandy didn’t come to the pool. Truthfully, I only went because it was the only place in town that I could walk to. And I didn’t have any money. There were often a few other kids there besides me and of course, Lexi and Angie were always there. Lexi was eleven years old and she acted like it was such a big deal; so when the parents were inside filling up drinks and getting distracted by conversations about horrible tenants and the next floor rug they wanted, she’d be bossing all boys around, making them do things her mom would always tell her to do as she escaped off to the kitchen.
“Lexi! Can you, please clean the pool trap?”
“Lexi! Be a dear and wipe these tables off, please.”
“Lexi! Get the net dear, dead wasps don’t make good swimming,” she’d wave her hand in the air as if shooing something off a table.
Then Lexi would pass it on to the boys by demanding their allegiance; and they’d all listen to her because Lexi was older, and she was pretty. I always wondered why she wasn’t in fifth grade.
Where Sandy was all summer? I figured she was at the library, or maybe stuck at home. Her family was never really seen anywhere but the church on Sundays. Her mom, after a few weeks in town, began working in the nursery often, so when Sandy went with her, she’d stay and help with whatever her Mom was doing.
We talked, but not a lot. She always had her face in a book or writing feverishly in one of the notebooks she carried around. At church, Sandy would carry a beautiful smile on her face almost like she was made to be there. I’d say “hi” to her when we’d pick up my little brother from class, and she’d wave sheepishly back to me but somehow, her smile made you feel warm inside, even hours later. Often, she’d be so busy changing a diaper or reading a book to the kids that, even then, we did not have a chance to get to know each other.
In fact, each day at school she appeared to radiate a kind of peace that seemed to say, “All is good,” though nothing ever seemed to be easy for her.
That day, you could see Sandy was beginning to unsettle. I had to get the note to her.
Listen NOW!!
🔊40: “A Life Worth Living,” Chapter 1
🔊45: “A Life Worth Living,” Chapter 3
🔊49: “A Life Worth Living,” Chapter 4
– God Exists –
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