Saving Ruth (12 page)

“Thanks for not letting my baby drown,” she said to me. She nodded at David, who had one foot out the door.

“Nice to meet you, Mary,” he said. We turned to leave.

“Wait, can I ask you somethin'?” Mary followed us into the hallway. “Now, I know I can be confrontational, and that y'all are prolly scared half to death by the loud, angry black woman. I'm sorry for that. The truth is, I am loud. And in this case, I am angry. Justifiably so, I would say. There were four people supposed to be watching my baby—people I pay good money to—and still, she almost died. Think about that.” She paused for effect.

“But what I wanted to ask you, though, is . . . well, it's a loaded question, but I need to ask it.”

“Sure, what is it?” asked David.

“If my baby had been white, would y'all have been watching her more closely?” I looked to David, stunned. I thought I would let him take the floor on this one.

“Mary, the truth of the matter is that we watched your daughter more closely because she
is
black.”

“Oh, so now you're telling me it's a given that a black child can't swim? It's a race thing?” Her nostrils flared. “Is that what's happening?”

“I think we're done here,” I said. I gave a half-wave and pushed David in front of me.

“Don't look back,” I murmured behind him.

“I won't.”

13

S
ilence fueled the ride home. No radio, no cigarettes, no nothing. On the plus side, I had saved a kid's life. On the minus side, everything else. I was going to have to take David's secret to the grave and somehow not resent the hell out of him for it, and Mary was going to sue the free world.
Don't forget that Tanisha is alive.
Things could be so much worse right now, worse than I was capable of fathoming—or rather, worse than my privileged white mind was capable of fathoming, as Mary would probably say. The idea that we wouldn't keep an eye on Tanisha because she was black still burned me. It just wasn't true that her life didn't matter to me as much as a white child's would have. We pulled into the driveway.

“Do you think Mom and Dad know yet?” I asked.

“Yeah, I'm sure.”

I took a deep breath. “Well, hopefully they won't be too nuts about it.”

“You're kidding, right?” David cocked his eyebrow.

“Right.” I opened the car door.

On cue, the back door opened, and my dad pushed open the screen. He held Maddie back with his left leg. A blur of white and caramel squirmed behind him.

“Are you two okay?” he bellowed.

“Yes, we're fine, Dad,” I answered, stepping over the dog and into the house. Mom sat at the kitchen table, wringing her hands in her lap. She peered at us over the top of her glasses before jumping up to embrace us.

“We've been so worried about you,” she said. “Jason called us about two hours ago to tell us the news, but you haven't been answering your cell phones.”

“Which, by the way, is ironic considering we pay for those cell phones,” Dad interjected.

“Honestly, Sam! Is this the time?” Her look of disdain could have melted steel.

“You're right. Not the point. Where have you been?” he asked again.

“And what happened at the pool?” asked Mom.

“Can we sit down first?” I asked. “Man.” We collapsed into our respective spots at the table. To sit anywhere else always felt strange, like you were channeling the other person.

My parents sat down too, anxiety emanating off of them in waves. Maddie, sensing that something was amiss, curled at my feet. I slipped my flip-flops off and buried my toes in her coat.

“So, David, you saved a little black girl from drowning? Is that what happened?” Anger and hurt filled me in equal measure.
Of course. David saved her while I twiddled my thumbs.
I looked at him incredulously.

“No, Mom, Ruth saved her.” Their mouths parted in shock.

“Ruth?” asked my dad. He looked at me. “You saved her?”

“What? Is that so impossible to believe?”

“No, of course not, Ruthie, that's not what we meant,” Mom replied. She took my hand and squeezed. “We're so proud of you, honey. That's amazing.”

“It really is,” agreed Dad. He gazed at me with wonder. “Good for you.”

“Did Jason tell you that David saved her? Is that what he thinks too?”

“I'm not sure. He was speaking so quickly, and we were so shocked. I'm sorry, Ruth.” This was not how I wanted to behave—like a petulant child whose lollipop had been taken away. I wanted to be noble and dignified. Funny how you couldn't fight the role you were most comfortable playing when it came to family.

“I was on the stand, and the little girl—her name is Tanisha—the little girl fell into the deep end,” David explained. “She was in my blind spot right beneath me. I couldn't see her.” He paused. “But Ruth—Ruth saw her go under from the snack bar. She dove in and swam to her in, like, three seconds. It was pretty amazing.” I stared down at the table.

“We're so proud of you.” I nodded in response as my eyes welled with tears. To hear that they were proud of me was a rarity.

“Thanks,” I mumbled. “It was pretty scary.”

“I can't even imagine, honey.” Mom got up and kneeled beside me. She hugged me close. “You saved someone's life today.”

“Ruth, that's really something.” Dad got up too and hugged me from the other side. I looked to my left, through an opening in my parents' entwined limbs, and watched David, who was staring at the floor.

“Well, it's not like David sat on his ass eating bonbons,” I said, untangling myself. “As soon as he saw what was happening, he helped me pull her out.” My parents went back to their seats and turned their attention to him.

“I would hope so,” said Dad. “Let me ask you this. How does a pool have a blind spot? Isn't that playing with fire?”

“I guess it's never been an issue before,” mumbled David. “Usually, if you come to a neighborhood pool and you're in the deep end, you know how to fucking swim.”

“Language,” whispered Mom.

“This was a black girl, this Tanisha?” asked Dad.

“No, she was a white girl named Tanisha. Come on, Dad.” David stared at him belligerently across the table.

“Fair enough.” He took off his glasses and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Who was she there with? Did she come with her parents?”

“She came with a Kiddy Kare group,” I answered. “There were about thirteen of them with two teachers.”

“Did the board know they were coming?” asked Mom. “Or did they just show up?”

“Yes, they knew they were coming. Fifteen nonmembers can't just show up unannounced,” David said, his voice thick with annoyance.

“So why just two lifeguards on duty?” asked Dad. “With a group like that coming, you'd think that the board would take extra precautions.”

“Dad, it's not like they were there by themselves,” I answered. “They were being watched by two teachers too, don't forget.”

“I thought that a majority of them would be able to tread water at least,” added David. “Most of them were in floaties. Either they didn't put them on Tanisha, or she took them off herself when they weren't looking. The whole thing was a major liability.”

Dad's ears perked up at the legal jargon. “A liability, huh?”

“Yeah, definitely. I guess the pool really needs the money or something.” David arched his back and stretched.

“Did you have to resuscitate her?” asked Mom.

“Thankfully, no. Once we got her out, she started coughing up water. For a second I thought I would have to, but she was okay.”

“Did you remember what to do?”

“Of course, Mom, I'm not an idiot.”

“That's not what I meant at all! I just wonder if I would be able to remember all of the steps under that kind of stress.”

“It's very impressive that you did,” added Dad. I stole a glance at David.
He hadn't remembered.

“So what happened after she came to?”

“David had called 911, so they took her to the hospital to make sure everything was okay. She was fine, we checked on her.”

“Don't tell me you went to the hospital,” said Dad.

“What's wrong with going there?” asked David. “Why wouldn't we?”

“You did, didn't you?” my dad barked. His chair shrieked over the tile floor as he backed it away to stand up.

“Dad, what's your problem?” I asked. “We wanted to make sure she was okay. It was the right thing to do!”

“Did you speak with her parents?” he asked. “Did they think it was the right thing for you to do?”

“We spoke to her mom,” answered David. “It was fine.”

“Was it fine? Because you know they're going to sue somebody, and it very well could be the pool. You shouldn't have spoken to them without a lawyer present.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?” The pitch of my voice rose. “We did the right thing! How could we not go and see her? She almost drowned on our watch!”

“Exactly, Ruth. Any parent whose kid is endangered on somebody else's watch is like a ticking time bomb of guilt and blame. And I'm sure she wasn't pleased to see two white kids come strolling in.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” asked David.

“Exactly what you think it means. If you think for a minute that they're not going to claim some sort of racism, you're out of your naive little minds. A black child drowns at a white pool? Come on, David. Use your head.” Dad began to pace.

“We watched Tanisha just like we would watch any other kid at the pool!” I yelled. Was I going to have to defend us to everyone? “The black thing wasn't even an issue! The issue was that we knew she couldn't swim because she came with a group of other kids who couldn't swim.”

“Or was it that you knew she couldn't swim because she was black? And you were ticked off that a bunch of nonswimming black kids came to the pool and disrupted the day, so you said, screw it, I'm going to let my mind wander?” Dad replied, using what must have been his courtroom voice.

“All right, Johnny Cochran, take it easy,” said David.

“Look.” My dad sighed heavily. “I'm just telling you what's going to happen—what people are already thinking. What these parents may claim in court. Not everything is so—”

“Black and white?” I finished smugly.

“Simple. This is a complicated issue. At the pool and beyond, obviously. There's already commotion about the neighborhood changing. This is only going to fuel the fire.”

“We wish you had called us,” said Mom. “We could have at least voiced our opinion and maybe given you a different perspective.”

“Jesus, do you think we should call you every time we have a problem?” yelled David. “Every time something goes wrong? We're not kids anymore.”

“This qualifies as more than just a problem, David,” said Dad. “This is serious.”

“Why can't we concentrate on the fact that Ruth saved a kid's life today and worry about the other shit when and if it happens? You're the most negative people I've ever met in my life. No wonder we're so fucked up.”

“What the hell does that mean?” asked Dad.

“It's always a worst-case scenario with you. Always.”

“David, that's called being a goddamn grownup!” screamed Mom suddenly, surprising everyone with the force of her conviction. We stared at her. “You have to plan for the worst and hope for the best. It's being a parent! It's having a career! It's living life responsibly! I am so sick of this entitled bullshit attitude from both of you.”

“Whoa!” I said. “Where is this coming from?” I scooped my foot under Maddie's warm belly.

“I just—your father and I, that is—we just care very much about you, and when you make decisions without thinking about the consequences, we worry.” She paused. “And David, we just feel like we don't know you at all anymore.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You never talk to us, and you used to.”

“Mom, what does that have to do with what happened today?” he asked.

“Easy. The old David would have saved Tanisha,” I answered angrily. “And the old Ruth would have just, I dunno, stuck her thumb up her ass and watched.” I stood up.

“Ruth, sit down,” ordered Dad. “Let's not turn this into something petty.”

“Now my feelings are petty! Great.”

“You shouldn't take it so personally,” said David quietly. “I don't really talk to anyone anymore.”

“Is everything okay?” asked Mom. I sat down, defeated.

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Honey, are you depressed?” asked Mom.

“Nah. I'm just in a funk.”

“You don't need a reason to be depressed, David. It just happens sometimes.”

“Marjorie, he said he's not depressed,” said Dad. “Leave the kid alone.”

“Okay, as long as you know that we're here, and that we love you,” said Mom. “And Ruth of course, you too. We love you more than anything. No matter what.”

“And we're so proud of what you did today,” said Dad. “Really and truly.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, embarrassed.

“All right, are we done now?” asked David.

“Yes, we're done. But if you hear from Tanisha's family at all, let me know. I want to be involved. As a lawyer, and also as your father. Okay?” We pushed our chairs back and stood up without responding.

“Okay?”

“Okay,” we drawled in unison.

I closed my door and sank onto my bed. What a day. I stared at the ceiling, too tired to take off my bathing suit but irritated by the fabric's pull across my body. It had dried completely—all evidence of my plunge into the pool now erased. I wondered what Tanisha was doing at this exact moment. Was she still in the hospital? Was she home? Where did she live? Was her mother plotting the pool's demise, as my father feared?

I got under the covers. My stomach roared at me angrily. When was the last time I ate? I looked at the clock. It was 8:07. The day had been lost in a blur of emotion. Hanging out with David post-storm had been so nice. So real. And then the consequences that my parents seemed to spend so much time worrying about finally presented themselves. How lucky was I that I had abstained from smoking David's weed? How lucky was Tanisha? My phone beeped, signaling a text. I pulled it out of my bag. Chris.

Heard about the pool. You okay, Superwoman?

I smiled. This was the smallest town in the world.

Yeah, fine. Helluva day.

I attempted to take off my tank top, shorts, and bathing suit without actually getting out of bed. With some squirming and stretching, it wasn't so hard. Maybe I really was Superwoman.

We on for tmrrw?

Oh right, our date.

I think so. No, def. Def yes.

Cool, see you at 8?

Cool.

Was it right to go on a date when something so serious had just happened? I mean, what was the alternative? To sit at home and mope? I was going.

I placed my phone on the nightstand and curled into the covers, checking my stomach for pliable flesh. I thought of Tanisha, asleep in her room while Mary paced their living room and wondered what to do; my parents watching TV listlessly as their worry simmered silently; David face down on his bed next door, blocking out the guilt that I hoped was haunting him; Chris sipping a beer and maybe thinking about me, or the me he thought I was. I sighed deeply and closed my eyes.