Saving Ruth (11 page)

“Looks like you've got a fan,” said David as Tyler walked away, clearly shaken. He sat beside me on the chair.

“I know I shoulda had that, Ruth,” he offered. I stared at him for a moment before putting my head back in my hands.

12

“W
e should probably call Jason,” I said to David from the passenger seat. His eyes were firmly on the road, and we hadn't spoken since his half-ass apology. I took a drag off of my cigarette and held it out the window.

“He'll find out from a parent or something. I don't feel like dragging him into this right now, do you?”

“I guess not. What about Mom and Dad?”

“Are you joking? No way. We wouldn't even be able to get the story out before they'd be yelling and blaming.”

He had a point. A million bucks said that that blame would be placed on me.
David would never let a kid drown on his watch, but Ruth, well, Ruth was a different story.
Not this time, my friends. Believe it or not.

“I wonder what's going to happen at the hospital,” I said. I tossed my cigarette out the window, watching it spark as it bounced off the road in the rearview mirror.

“You don't worry about it. I'll handle it.”

“Why should you handle it? I'm the one who saved her.”

“Yeah, I know you saved her, Ruth. On my watch.” He stopped at a red light and looked over at me. “That's exactly why I want to handle it.”

I stared out the window as pine trees whizzed by. “Do you think she's going to sue the pool?”

“Who? The mom?”

“Yeah.”

“How could she sue the pool? Isn't drowning one of the risks you take when you send your kid there? And anyway, you saved her, for chrissake.”

“I guess, but still. Everybody is so sue-happy these days, you know?”

“If she's going to sue anybody, she should sue those Kiddy Kare assholes. I can't believe they let her wander off.” He shook his head in disgust. “I mean, how hard is their job?”

“You sure are judgmental for somebody who was smoking weed five minutes before he took the stand. I thought you said smoking made you less high-strung.”

“Ruth, I told you I wasn't high! I was completely sober by the time that all went down.”

I stared out the window.

“Ruth, goddammit, I'm talking to you!” he yelled. “If you think for one second that that had anything to do with Tanisha going under, you're out of your mind.” We pulled into the hospital parking lot.

“Ruth, fucking look at me!”

I turned to face him. He was shaking. “If you're really so innocent, how come you're so angry right now?” I jabbed. He grabbed my right arm and shook me.

“Jesus! That hurts, asshole!” I punched him in his shoulder.

“I'm angry because this is ridiculous. I am telling you for the last time that I was not high. I don't give a shit if you believe me or not.” He shoved me angrily as he released his grip. “If I was high, you were brain-dead from malnutrition.”

“Oh, okay, that makes sense, Matlock. If I was so brain-dead, how come I saved her fucking life?” Passersby glanced into the car to see what the yelling was about. David stared straight ahead and gripped the wheel as though he were hanging from the ledge of a nine-hundred-story building; the muscles and bones in his hands were popping out of his skin.

“Ruth, I am begging you not to tell anyone about the weed. I swear that I wasn't high, but if people know that I was smoking, I'm dead.” He rubbed his temples. “My time is almost up anyhow, but this would just put the nails in the coffin, man.”

“What do you mean, your ‘time is almost up'?” I yelled. “What the hell kind of cryptic talk is that? Wait, are you crying?” I was completely taken aback. I hadn't seen David cry since we were kids. What did I do now? Comfort him? I was angry at him, dammit! I leaned forward and tried to pry his hands from his face. “Listen, I'm not going to rat you out to anybody. Don't worry.”

“Thanks. I really mean it.” He wiped his eyes and sat back against the seat.

“But what the hell are these tears about? And what do you mean that your ‘time is almost up'?”

“Nothing. It's nothing.” He wiped his nose. “Just know that I feel bad about the kid, okay? I'm going to try to do whatever I can to fix this.” He cleared his throat. “And part of that is talking to her mom.”

I rubbed my eyes. I wanted to press the issue, but my energy tank was completely depleted.

“Do we know if there's a dad too?” I asked. “How come we just assume there's no dad?”

“So I'll talk to her dad too. Whoever I need to speak to, I will. Let me do this, okay?”

“Okay.” I was scared. David had cried. We got out of the car.

“C'mon,” said David, gently shoving me forward. We walked into the hospital, and I immediately wanted to leave. The fluorescent lighting and Clorox and puke odor was a heady mix, and the pained faces of the people waiting to be seen made me self-conscious.

David went to shove his hands into his pockets before realizing that his athletic shorts would not afford him that luxury.

“Do you see Tanisha or her teachers?” he asked.

I scanned the room, which seemed to be lit from below by a green lightbulb. “No, I don't see them.”

“All right, let's go to the desk.”

“Hello,” said David. The woman at the desk didn't look up from underneath her hood of hairsprayed bangs. What a job this must be. Dealing with sick people and their neurotic, frightened relatives all day long. He cleared his throat. “Um, excuse me, please.”

She glared at us. “What?” So much for southern hospitality.

“Yes, did a drowning victim come in here recently? A little black girl. Her name is Tanisha.”

“Tanisha what?”

We looked at each other blankly. “We don't have a last name, unfortunately.”

“You think this is Hollywood?” She growled. “Everybody only has one name, like Madonna?”

“No, of course not,” said David as I stared mutely ahead. “I'm sorry, ma'am, we don't know her last name. We were lifeguarding at the pool where it happened,” he explained. “We just want to make sure that she's okay, maybe talk to her parents if they're here.”

“You were the lifeguards at the pool where a little girl drowned?” She shook her head in disapproval. “Guess y'all's lifeguard days is over.”

“She didn't drown,” I offered. “She—I saved her.” She regarded me with an ounce more of interest.

“Listen, we don't mean to annoy you,” interjected David. “We just want to see Tanisha. Maybe you could check the log and tell us where we could find her?”

She sighed heavily and began to flip some papers around. “Little black girl. Tanisha Green. She's here. In room 405.”

“Is she okay?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“Seems to be.”

“Thank you,” said David, saving me from saying something that was sure to destroy the moment. “Let's go, Ruth.” We got on an empty elevator. My finger shook as I pressed 4.

“You scared?” I asked. I backed up against the wall and then flinched immediately. This place was germ central.

“What's to be scared of? She said that Tanisha was fine. Don't worry, Ruth. I got this.”

Ding!

We stepped off and were assaulted by mauve. From the walls to the front desk, to the chairs to even the undertone of the floor tile, it was like being trapped inside the wardrobe trailer for
The Golden Girls
.

We made a left and slowly walked toward Tanisha's room. As we passed open doors, I glanced inside, wondering if I would see spurting blood or women in labor, screaming for epidurals. No luck—all I heard was the faint drone of TV sitcoms and the occasional cough. At room 405, my heart froze in my chest.

“David, why are we here?” I asked, grabbing his hand.

“Because it's the right thing to do.”

We lingered in the doorway. There was Tanisha, her gangly body lying on the bed with her braids spread over the green pillowcase. Four other people were in the room—a teenage boy flipping channels on the television, a tween girl perched on the windowsill and texting on her phone, a chubby boy about seven or so who was sitting on the bed with Tanisha and holding her hand. Her mother—at least I assumed it was her mother because of the resemblance, same cheekbones and bright eyes—sat in the mauve chair next to her bed, talking on her cell phone.

“Yes, she's fine. The doctor says everything is okay, thank God. Thank God.” She paused, listening to the voice on the other end. “Yes, he was thorough! What you think this is?” She looked up at us with question marks in her eyes.
Who the hell are you?

Tanisha turned to follow her gaze. When she saw me, she broke into a shy smile.

“I gotta go, Shirl. Somebody's here. I'll call you later.” She stood up, a mama bear defending her cubs. “Can I help you?”

“Um, hello.” David extended his hand. She glanced down and ignored it. He continued, undeterred. “I'm David, and this is Ruth.”

“Hi, Tanisha,” I said, waving to her from the doorway. She waved back timidly.

Sensing that we weren't a threat, her mother's tense posture dissipated a bit. “Okay. And?”

“We were the lifeguards on duty when Tanisha had her—her accident.”

“Oh really?” Now she was practically snarling. I felt seconds away from having my neck severed.

“So you were the ones who weren't watching my baby? The ones who let her almost drown to death?”

“Well, actually, we didn't let her drown,” answered David. I was impressed by his coolness. My voice had an annoying habit of rising several octaves when I was nervous. If I'd been the one facing off with the mom, glass would be shattering throughout the building. “My sister saved her.”

I begrudgingly stepped out from behind him. “Hello.”

“Tanisha, is that true? This girl saved you?”

“Yes, Mama. She pulled me up out of the water.”

Her mother looked me up and down. “You don't look like much of a lifeguard to me. Whatchoo gonna do if someone over sixty pounds drowns in that pool?”

“I'm stronger than I look,” I answered defiantly. Now she was pissing me off. I saved her kid, and she was bullying me?

“I guess you must be.” She extended her hand. “I'm Mary, Tanisha's mom. Thank you. I dunno what I woulda done if something had happened to my baby.”

“And who are you?” she asked David. “You were the other lifeguard on duty?”

“Yes, ma'am. Tanisha slipped under right beneath my lifeguard stand, so I wasn't able to see her. Ruth saw her go under.”

Mary sat down on the edge of the bed. “How you gonna have a lifeguard stand that doesn't let you see the whole pool? Sounds pretty ignorant to me.”

“Yeah, well, the idea is that if you're in the deep end, you're more likely to be a good swimmer, I guess,” he countered. As discreetly as I could, I pinched his oblique. It was time for him to shut up now.

“Oh, that's the idea, huh?” Sarcasm dripped off her tongue. “Sounds like a pretty self-satisfied way to manage a pool
.
‘Nothin' bad is gonna happen at this pool, no wayyyy. We all know how to swim.' ”

“Mama,” said Tanisha, sitting up from her pillows. “Quit bein' mean. Miss Ruth saved me.”

“I know, baby. I just don't know what to make of this whole mess.” She looked up at me and then back to her daughter. “You want to thank Miss Ruth, T?” She nodded.

“All right, go on.” She stood up and motioned toward the bed. I sat gingerly next to Tanisha, who seemed even smaller now, on dry land. Her arms were as wiry as bobby pins.

“Thank you, Miss Ruth,” she said. I took in her sweet face, her bright brown eyes, and the smoothness of her forehead. She smiled to reveal a missing front tooth.

“Hey, were you missing that before?” I asked. Her brother watched me curiously, inching up to me like a cat.

“I just lost it in the ambulance!” she replied proudly. “It was real loose befo', but then I guess I jes pushed on it or somethin'. Maybe with my tongue when I was underwater.”

“Well, congrats. You look great without a tooth.”

“No, I don't, Miss Ruth. I look silly.”

“Tanisha, I'm so glad you're okay.”

She nodded. “Me too. I shouldn't have been in the deep end. I was jes curious, though. Wanted to see how deep it really was.” I nodded in understanding.

“What I can't figure out is how that dumb Tiffany let her wander away like that. How do you lose a child who can't swim at a pool?” asked Mary. “Now Monique, I thought she had a little bit more sense, but I guess not.”

“They did seem pretty swamped,” offered David. “That was a lot of kids for two women.”

“Well then, you know what? They shouldn't have gone to the damn pool. Period.”

“Mama,” said Tanisha, “please don't git Miss Tiffany and Miss Monique in trouble. I love them.”

“Sweetie, I love a lot of things that are bad for me, but you can't let two teachers who almost let you die go unpunished. It ain't right.” Tanisha's lip trembled. “I'm sorry, baby. It's a hard fact of life.”

She looked at us. “I might have to sue that Kiddy Kare.”
Please don't say you're suing the pool. Please just leave it alone.

“And yo' pool too. Might as well tell you now.”

“I'm not sure that's such a smart idea,” said David.

“David!” I hissed.

“What, it's the truth!”

Mary watched our exchange with a bemused expression.

“You scared?” she asked. “You should be.”

“We should get going,” I said. Any more backtalk from David and the situation would go from bad to worse, I was sure of it. “Tanisha, I'm so glad you're okay.” I hugged her gingerly. She still smelled of chlorine.

“Thanks for letting us see Tanisha,” I said to Mary, who stood regally in the doorway. I could picture her in an Egyptian headdress holding court on the Nile.