“Want me to help you with your exercises?” he says, and she says that’d be nice and smiles and backs up to the pool’s edge till her shoulders are braced against it. He looks up and sees the girl looking at him and smiles and she smiles and he thinks everyone’s smiling, the three of us, smiling, smiling, smiling, and waves with just a flap of his hand at her and she looks back at her pad and resumes writing, though her strokes seem broader now, so she might be drawing. His wife holds on from behind to the lip in the drain — or whatever that part is right at the edge of the pool that acts as a gutter; the gutter, he’ll call it, though who knows, that might actually be it — holds the gutter lip from behind and tries to make her legs buoyant but can’t raise them to the top of the water. He grabs the left leg, holds it out of the water, and twists the toes around and back and forth as the swim therapist in the Catonsville Y back home told him to, bends the foot and then the calf as he also was told to, presses the leg to her chest at the knee, does the same with the other foot and leg, looks up while doing it and sees the girl staring at them, and he smiles and she looks back at her pad but makes no writing motion on it, just stares at it. He does this with his wife for about ten minutes — it’s tedious to him but the therapist says it helps her, loosens up the legs and feet and increases the circulation in them — and then tries walking her in the water; and after a few attempts — she tips left and right and never gets a step forward — she says, “I can’t today, the legs are stuck, won’t move when I ask them to.” “Lean back against this thing again — the wall — and we’ll see how strong they are right now,” and she gets in the same position as before, shoulders against the end of the pool, and he grabs her calves and sticks her feet against his chest and presses her folded-up legs into her body till her butt’s raised almost above the water — and he gets an erection seeing her in that position and thinking of her that way in bed, she on her back with him on his shins above her and watching his penis go in and out as he moves back and forth — and he says “Push” and tries to keep her legs pressed to her chest, and she tries pushing them out but she can’t today, she does about half the times he does this with her, when she’s really trying, and he says, “Again, push, let’s do it,” and pretends to exert himself in keeping her legs against her chest but lets them out slowly till she’s pushed him all the way back and straightened her legs. “Good, great, way to go; took a while but you did it.” She grins—“I didn’t feel I had enough oomph in my legs to do it, and boy was it an effort”—and he says, “How about again?” and pushes her legs in the same way, her butt rises a little above the water and he gets another erection though doesn’t remember losing the last one, and looks at the girl, who’s staring at him and he smiles, checks to see the erection’s underwater, and says, “It’s exercise for my wife,” and thinks, There’s no double meaning in that for himself, is there? — no, and the girl continues to look but doesn’t smile, and he says, “Exercise for her legs — they’re a little weak so we got to strengthen them, make them strong,” and his wife turns to see whom he’s talking to and says, “Why are you telling her that? You might frighten her,” and he says, “Nah, we’ve established some kind of tacit relationship with our looks and she seemed interested so I thought I’d explain it — no good?” and she says, “Well, you just untacitized it, and maybe I don’t like every kid and Harry knowing so much about it if they don’t have to or they don’t find out for themselves,” and he says, “Sorry,” and then, “Push, come on, gibt ihm ein push,” and lets her push her legs out again. “Good, twice in a row; you practically shoved me across the pool. Now walk. I think you have the strength for it now,” and she tries, hands on his shoulders, he holding her around the back, but she can’t walk a step. “Maybe I’ll just swim a little,” and she gets on her front and swims out about fifteen feet, her behind for some reason bobbing above the water, and he swims alongside her just in case she suddenly sinks, which she has. Then she turns over and swims back to the shallow area and grabs the pool’s edge and says, “I guess it’s time to leave; you’ve had enough, haven’t you?” and he says, “I’ll stay if you want some more swimming and stuff,” and she says, “No, I think I’ve had it, I’m all in, and not a very successful day — I even got tired with those twenty or so strokes,” and pulling herself with her hands along the edge of the pool she gets to the handicapped stairway, sits on the bottom step in the water, and hoists herself up each step till she’s on the top. He climbs up the regular stairs, moves her wheelchair to the stairway she’s on, and helps her into the chair and pushes her to the women’s door, opens it and looks away, so no one will think he’s looking inside, though there’d be nothing to see since it’s just an entry corridor with a railing and ramp, the door to the dressing room not visible from the pool door, and pushes her inside. “Thanks, see ya later,” and she wheels herself down the corridor, and he starts for the men’s entrance at the other end of the pool when he thinks, The girl, should have waved goodbye, and turns to her and sees the handicapped stairway and thinks, Oh, God, forgot that too, and removes the landing part of it from the board underneath, disconnects the board from the stairway in the water, puts those two pieces together and drags them to the place against the wall where he always leaves them, then stands at the pool’s edge and thinks, Go on, jump or walk down to them but no way you’re gonna get the stairs out without getting wet, and jumps into the water and tries lifting the stairway onto the deck. Often, when the lifeguard sees him doing this — maybe every time he sees him doing this — just as when he sees him dragging the various parts to the pool or assembling them or putting the stairway into the water — Gould’s never asked for help on this but always welcomed it — he comes over and helps. But the lifeguard’s rolling in one of the lane lines at the other end of the pool. The swimming instructor’s helped him a couple of times too, but he’s in the water demonstrating another underwater breathing technique to his swim team. The stairway seems especially heavy or resistant or something today and he’s not getting it out of the water. “Can I help?” the girl says, standing above him, and he says, “Thank you, but I don’t want you to hurt yourself,” and she says, “If I pull the bar here will it help you?” leaning over and grabbing the railing, and he says, “It’s really too heavy; it might fall on you once I get it up, but I’m not kidding when I say it’s very nice of you to ask,” and she smiles and he does too and she goes back to the bench, looking at him, and picks up her clipboard and pencil and she’s shivering again and he says, “Really, sweetheart, don’t you want to sit away from the door? That’s what’s making you cold, and maybe because your hair’s still wet,” and she says, “I want to be cold; it was so hot today that it feels good,” and he says, “Okay,” and tries lifting the stairway again, and this time — maybe whatever water pressure or suction that was keeping it down has let up or something — he gets it out of the water and onto its side on the deck. He gets out of the pool, stands the stairway up, and starts dragging it to the wall. She quickly puts her clipboard and pen down, jumps up and runs over, and says, “I can help you do this without getting hurt,” and he says, “Why, thanks; you’re something, you know, a real helper, but you got to watch your feet,” and together they drag the stairway to the wall beside the other parts and he’s sure, compared to the times he’s done it alone, she made the dragging a little easier for him. Then he asks her name and she says, “Regina,” and he says, “I’m Gould, and I know little girls because I have two, one just around your age and both in day camp today, and let me tell you, you’re about the nicest and most helpful I’ve ever met,” and she says, “Not more than your own,” and he says, “No, the three of you,” and says goodbye and walks to the other end of the pool, gets his bag off the hook, looks back — she’s still standing and looking at him — and he waves and goes into the men’s dressing room.
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