We'll Go Together
December, 2013
The warm and humid air of the swimming pool area was a relief from the early December chill.
Rose removed her coat. She would sit in the bleachers and enjoy the warmth for the next hour, and not think about going back into the cold air, back to their cold apartment, back to wondering if she was doing the right thing. The Variety Club swimming pool facility was crowded as usual and Rose enjoyed the bustle. There were people of all ages; she could hear the squeals of the younger kids above all the rest.
Johnny sat next to her in his swim trunks with a towel wrapped around his shoulders. She had already gotten him changed in the family locker room. He likes the water, she thought.
I think he likes the water…, she thought. I hope so… I think so. She told herself a few times. After taking his swim lessons here almost every week for the last 23 years, she certainly did hope so. At least, he doesn’t protest.
“Hi Johnny, how are you today?” said Carrie, walking toward him and smiling. “Hello, Mrs. Larkin,” she said to Rose.
Carrie was tall and thin, very athletic with short blond hair. She was also kind to Johnny. She was in her mid-twenties now and had been a swim instructor at the East Norriton Variety Club since her high school days, and all through college when she was home on break or summer vacation. She stayed on after graduating, working on Saturdays.
“Hello Carrie,” said Rose.
“How is Johnny today?” Carrie said to Rose while looking at Johnny.
“Johnny is fine. My sweet boy is looking forward to his swim lesson,” said Rose attempting to be cheerful.
She always called Johnny ‘my sweet boy’ and he was fine, physically. But he wasn’t a boy. He was thirty-three now, 5’10” and 180 pounds of flesh and muscle. He would have been a good athlete was a thought Rose had many times during Johnny’s first fifteen years. She had banished the would have’s, and could have’s, and might have been’s, from her mind years ago. Every now and then they crept back in. But she learned to take the world as it is. Take things as they are.
“Ready to go, Johnny?” said Carrie, holding out her hand for him.
Without expression he placed her hand in his, stood up, and started walking with her to the shallow end of the pool. They would start there and eventually end up in neck deep water. Johnny would try his best to do his kicks, and his strokes, and hold his breath, and go under water. All the activities he had been doing for years now.
Rose watched him. She thought of the first time Johnny came here to swim. Since it was new for him at the time, she also wore a swimsuit and brought him into the water. She held out her hand and said “Come on Johnny. We’ll go together”. She went into the water with Johnny every lesson for the first five or so years. He had never spoken, but Rose knew that her voice and her face would reassure him. They were his treasures, his only treasures.
Johnny was ten years old when he started taking swimming lessons at the Variety club. The state benefits associate told her it was free, and the doctor was all for it. She was just sorry she hadn’t started sooner. She enjoyed going into the pool back then; she was 49 at that time in 1990 and had a reserve of energy built up after caring for Johnny since his birth 10 years earlier. Johnny was calm in the water and somewhat focused, or at least more focused than usual. No one but Rose could see that, but Rose knew his every expression. No one else had watched Johnny as closely as she had for all these years.
Tom, before he had left for good in 1995, was not much of a fellow caretaker. He was a truckdriver who left for a 4 day run and just never came back. She had a brief moment of fear when he didn’t come back, but after a minute she knew. She casually went through the motions of calling all the hospitals, and police stations and his work. But she knew. A month later the first envelope arrived with 300 dollars in it, and a ripped piece of paper with the words “I will try to send more”. There was no apology, no regrets, no wishes of how things could have been different. The envelopes kept coming for only about 6 months, from different parts of the country, then they stopped. Rose sold the house and moved into a one-bedroom apartment in Lansdale.
Rose sat quietly and watched Johnny. She was a private person who rarely spoke to anyone at the pool even though she had seen many of the same faces for years. Carrie was holding his hands and leading him while he flapped his feet in the water to propel forward.
“That’s it, Johnny. Keep kicking, keep kicking,” she heard.
Rose was 62 and she was tired. Not tired of Johnny, she was his world and over the years he had become hers. She was just tired of all the rest of it. She knew weariness. Weariness had been her close companion over the years. Eight years ago while she was undergoing chemo treatments for breast cancer, she found two new companions, fatigue and exhaustion.
Recently, the doctor told her the cancer was back. Her mind briefly took her into that miserable state of sickness and exhaustion she experienced in the first go around. Caring for Johnny then had been grueling, but she had Mrs Snells to help out. Now she had no one.
She had doubts about what to do, but when the doctor was finally candid about the slim chances for survival with treatment she knew instantly she would not be seeking any. Too tired. She had said good-bye to all that and she wasn’t going to have it again.
She surprised herself with how quickly she’d made up her mind. A small voice said “Don’t you want to think about it, explore all the options…” but she had acquired a hardness that prevented her from entertaining any wishful thoughts. She developed this rigid toughness in caring for Johnny over these 33 years. She relied on it to keep Johnny safe and herself sane. She relied on it to keep their routine: wake, dress, eat, activity, television, eat, wash, sleep. She relied on it to handle all the faceless social services bureaucrats who tried to limit Johnny’ resources. She relied on it to simply keep going. She knew she could rely on it to do what’s best.
I will not leave him somewhere, she thought. It would break his heart, he would not understand and he would constantly be looking for me. Maybe its my fault, but there was nothing else to do, nothing else to be done. It’s not his fault, it’s just way things are. I’ll take him with me, we’ll go together. And soon. I cannot stand the thought of another cold winter.
The hour passed quickly. It always does, thought Rose. Johnny was holding Carrie’s hand as they walked back to Rose, wet and energized by the pool.
“Johnny did great as always Mrs Larkin,” said Carrie, smiling at Johnny. “By the way, I got engaged this past week.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” said Rose and she meant it. “That’s so exciting! Stephen is his name, right? So sorry, I should remember” she smiled.
“Yes, Stephen is his name. We’ve been together for four years now. I half expected it but it was still a big surprise.”
Without thinking, Rose glanced at her left hand.
“I don’t have the ring because I don’t want to wear it in the pool, and I am paranoid about leaving it in a locker, even if it is locked. Crazy, I know.”
“No, that makes perfect sense,” said Rose. “I can see the ring another time, I’m sure it’s beautiful.”
“Yes, it is, I love it. We haven’t set a date yet, but we want to do it soon, like in the spring, maybe April or May, or even June if we have to. My Dad thinks he can get us into the country club since he’s been a member there for about a hundred years.”
“That is a wonderful time to do it,” said Rose. “Such a beautiful time of the year.”
“I would love for you and Johnny to come. I feel like I have known you two for half my life. Longer than my fiancée! I do hope you can make it.”
Rose was surprised and felt her face almost turn red. She quickly responded, “Yes, of course. We would love it.” It was a reflex response.
“We are going to scout out some caterers today, and we still have to stop by the club, and the cake, and my dress, all sorts of plans!” said Carrie. “My mother keeps hinting about what she thinks the dress should look, but I’m not sure if that’s what I want.”
“Well, it is your wedding,” said Rose, smiling and knowing that Carrie would hear that about 1000 times.
“Yes, oh my god, I have too much to think about!”
Carrie was beaming. “Well, have a good day, Mrs Larkin.” She smiled and took Johnny’s hand and looked at his face, trying to catch his eyes. “I’ll see you next week, ok Johnny?” Johnny just looked down, out of habit.
“Goodbye, Mrs Larkin. See you next week.”
“Goodbye, Carrie, and congratulations again.”
She was genuinely happy for Carrie. Carrie had always been so kind and patient with Johnny, I do hope she’s happy in her marriage, she thought. She hoped Carrie could remain ignorant of the things that Rose knew. Stay young, stay innocent, stay ignorant, she thought. That is the best way. I hope her future is free of… desolation. Yes, free of crushing desolation.
Rose got Johnny changed in the family locker room and they headed out to the car for the ride home.
When she started driving, Rose thought of what Carrie had said. Too much to think about indeed. All that planning and excitement leading up to the big day. The running around to different venues, taste testing caterers, the elation of finding the perfect dress, the invitations. Debating about the centerpieces, oh my god, the centerpieces, thought Rose smiling to herself. Rose was thinking back to her wedding many years ago, and to the what seemed like endless discussion around her centerpieces. She wanted simple and elegant, white flowers and some green leaves, but Tom’s mother wanted big and gaudy and lots of colors. She laughed out loud thinking about it.
Centerpieces, can you imagine?, thought Rose, it’s all so unimportant. But she was still smiling when they arrived home.
She picked up the mail as they entered. Importance is relative, thought Rose. Significance is in the eye of the beholder. The centerpieces, the caterer, the exchanging of vows, Johnny’s swim lesson today, these bills in the mail, all just … distractions. Distractions from the pain of living, distractions from ourselves.
Oh well. Maybe sometimes the distractions are amusing, that would make them amusements, she thought, smiling again thinking of the expression on Tom’s mother’s face when she finally put her foot down on the centerpiece decision. “It’s my wedding and this is what I want” she had said. It felt good at the time, thought Rose. A victory in life. A very small one but a victory nonetheless. I haven’t had many since, that’s for sure. But that thought didn’t make her sad. A victory is a victory and she enjoyed thinking about it, no matter how small or how long ago.
Now, back to today, it’s time for lunch isn’t it. Back to today, back to reality.
The snub-nosed 38 that Tom had bought years ago was in the bedside table. Rose kept it close. Thinking about that gave her a sense of calm and reassurance. It is always there, always loaded, always ready to go. Rose hoped it worked. She didn’t know if it had ever been fired. But Tom said “That’s why you want a revolver. Less moving parts, you can stick it in drawer and forget about it, but when you need it, you can count on it.” I am counting on it, she thought. That will be a victory, the final victory.
Johnny sat at the small kitchen table while Rose opened the refrigerator. “What shall we have for lunch today, Johnny? Cheese sandwich? Ok, let’s see. Maybe on toast today, what do you think, or shall we grill them up?” Grilled cheese it is, perfect for a chilly, rainy day, right? Why not.”
Rose wondered what they would be serving at Carrie’s wedding. A nice piece of fish maybe, or a steak, or chicken. I’d love to see the dress, I am sure she will be beautiful in it. April is not that far off, really.
“Do you think we will really get an invitation, Johnny?” said Rose. “I bet we do, that Carrie is so sweet. I am not absolutely certain we will get one, but if we do, we’ll go, okay? We’ll go together.”
The spring is not too far off, she thought. I can make it until then. I really would like to see that dress.