(Butterfly stroke, or Dolphin, in the Big Pink pool.)
The heat was as wet as a damp washcloth. Adam, the Pole from Podlaska, had firm control of the pool deck with his bluff friendly manner. He is a big guy, muscular, if a little soft in the waist, an East European version of a Minnesota interior lineman.
Podlaska is so far east that it is almost in Belarus, one of he several Soviet Republics occupied by the Germans, and which before that had been known as White Russia.
Adam looks like his great-grandfather might have been one of the Whites who fought the Reds in the early days of the USSR. Things were slow in the languid heavy air by the pool, and he abandoned his post under the umbrella by the gate and got in to slosh the blue water with a powerful dual-overhand stroke.
“Nice Butterfly,” I said, after he completed an underwater racing turn and stood up in the shallow end.
“We call Dolphin,” he said. “But I thank you.”
Jiggs popped out of the building, carrying his towel and goggles. “Stock market was up two hundred points,” he said. “What’s up with that?”
My Associate and her lovely mother sat on the edge of the pool, limbs in, soaking up the humidity. Their hair seemed to expand by the minute. I shook my head. “Don’t know. We had a late lunch at Willow and a little wine to start the happy hour early. We did not pay any attention to the market.”
“Think there was progress on the debt ceiling?” he asked.
“Can’t think of anything else that would cause the markets to go up,” I said. “There was some talk about the Senate producing a compromise now that the House has got the balanced budget thing out of its system.”
“You mean a grand compromise at this late date?”
“Maybe. It will require some magic, but maybe the markets were reflecting relief that someone is acting like a grown-up.”
“We could use some of that,” said Jiggs and grimaced as he stepped down the stairs into the water that retained some of the coolness of the night. “But the last hard news I had was about Rupert Murdoch’s wife decking a guy in Parliament who was going to hit him with a cream pie.”
“Now, that is news you can use,” I said.
“News of the world,” said Jiggs, and submerged.
Copyright 2011 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com