Page 25 of Breathing Under Water

“Stay away from me, quiet baby,” Elias says, which only upsets Matthew more. Matthew jumps to his feet and starts running in little circles, flapping even more vigorously.

“Hey!” Leo calls.

I didn’t even notice he’d walked over to us, but we all turn toward him. Even Matthew pauses for a moment.

“Who knows how fast the fastest fish in the ocean can go?” Leo asks.

Nobody answers, but the question has gotten their attention.

“Come see the storyboards,” he says. “They are not boring, and you can see how today’s lesson is going to go. Then I’ll tell you about the fish.”

The kids stand right up and clamber over to the posters. I’m more than happy to take a step back if Leo can keep them under control. Anything to get us through the half hour.

As Leo explains each picture, the kids seem rapt by what he’s showing them. While he’s talking, I notice a group of middle-aged women walking out of the clubhouse in golf gear. They’re chatting loudly as they make their way toward the pro shop. One of them looks our way, and I watch her eyes survey the kids, taking in their fidgety, jerky movements, and then Leo, who’s still moving his fingers in that conspicuous way of his while he explains the pictures to the kids. I notice one side of her lip move up, something resembling revulsion on her face, and I feel instantly protective of the kids. I resist the urge to flip her off before I turn my attention back to Leo.

Rohan raises his hand as Leo gets to the end. Without waiting for Leo to call on him, he says, “Now you have to tell us about the fish. Which is fastest?”

“You have to do everything on the board first. Each one of you. Then I’ll tell you about the fish. Fish, fish, fish. If you say ‘fish’ fast, it sounds like a sneeze. But I can’t tell you the answer yet. First you do the lesson.”

Rohan looks like he might argue for a moment, but when the other kids start moving toward the steps, he turns to follow. He’s whispering to himself as he approaches the pool, and I can hear him repeating “fish, fish” too.

Leo encourages them to keep going until they’re all the wayin. Elias, Johnny, Lindy, and then Rohan each maneuver into the water with none of the complaining or hijinks from the earlier lessons. At a little splash beside me, I turn to see that even Matthew is stepping in with the others.

Leo might actually be a godsend.

“I’m going to get in the pool today, McKenna,” he says as he reaches me. “Because I’ve decided I want to learn to swim, and I’m ready to do it now. And if I stand on the outside helping all the time, you won’t be able to teach me what I need to know to swim, so I’m going to get in the pool today. Today. I’m doing it today. Today I’m getting in the pool. Then I will tell them about the fish.”

“Gesundheit,” I say, a smile creeping onto my face for the first time since these lessons began.

“I didn’t sneeze,” he says.

“No, but you said ‘fish.’”

He looks back toward me blankly.

“Because before... what you said...” I give up and shake my head. “Just go ahead and get in.”

“Okay, but I still need to be a helper, even when I’m in the pool.” And then he’s making his way down the steps too.

After the lesson, Leo and I walk together toward the front parking lot. He seemed surprised when I offered to walk out with him, and frankly, I surprised myself too. But I’ve found myself curious, wondering what it’s like for him to be the way he is.

“There,” Leo says, pointing toward a red Nissan parked along the curb. “That’s where my brother is. He’s there.”

“Okay then. Thanks for another great day, Leo,” I say, turning toward the valet booth where I’m supposed to wait formini-campers to be dropped off soon. Except then the driver-side door of the sedan opens, and Leo’s brother steps out.

“Hey,” he says. “You must be the famous McKenna.”

“Hi, yes, very famous.” I laugh, reversing course and walking toward him. “And you’re the brother.” I take in his appearance. He looks a lot like Leo, except a much older, more filled-out version. He smiles, and I note that he doesn’t have dimples like his younger brother. But his smile is plenty dazzling on its own.

“Beck,” he says, extending a hand.

“Your name is Beck Becker?” I ask before accepting his hand. “Oh my gosh, that was so rude! I’m sorry. Nice to meet you, Beck Becker.”

He chuckles. “Sorry, my real name is Harrison, but the only people who call me that are my family.”

“That’s funny,” Leo says from where he’s still standing on the other side of the car. “Beck Becker. It sounds like woodpecker. Or check wrecker. Fact-checker. Set director. Pocket protector. Finance sector. Food selector.” I know from experience that Leo may keep this up for several minutes. Beck and I stare at each other a little longer, Leo still mumbling to himself as he opens the passenger door and gets into the car. The moment starts to get awkward as we let it drag, so I make my exit too.

“I’ve got campers coming.” I motion toward the cars heading up the drive. “See you tomorrow, Leo!” I call toward him and head off.