Swimming Test

Jason Pfeiffer rested his chin against the car door and stared out the open window as the world went by. He tried not to think about where he was going.

Good thoughts, he reminded himself. Think good thoughts. Like The Dagmartian. That was a good thought. The Dagmartian was the movie he was writing about a two-headed beast that bubbled up from the bottom of a swimming pool and attacked people. It was such a cool idea. One day The Dagmartian would earn him an Academy Award for Best Script or Best Director. Maybe even both.

Jason could see it now. His name in lights. People begging for his autograph. Reporters wanting to know how he got the idea for such a scary creature ...

"Hey," Jason's sister, Dagmar, poked his arm. "Roll up your window. The wind's messing up my hair." She flipped her mane of dark brown hair over her shoulder.

Jason gasped at the creature who shared the back seat with him. It was the Dagmartian. In the flesh!

If he rolled up his window, he'd be trapped. The Dagmartian would wrap her tentacles around him and suck the life right out of him.

There was only one thing to do. Jason pulled up his legs, leaned as far into his corner of the car as he could, and screamed bloody murder.

Mom slammed on the brakes and the car screeched to a halt. "What? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Jason said. "I thought I saw a creature from another planet, but it's okay. It's just Dagmar."

Dagmar rolled her eyes. "All I want is for him to put up his window. Is that so much to ask?"

The car started moving again and Mom glared at Jason in the rearview mirror. "You're eleven years old, Jason. You should know better than to scream when I'm driving."

"Sorry," Jason said, pushing up his glasses.

"Roll up the window," Mom ordered. "And no fighting back there!"

Dagmar put on this look like "Who me? Fight with him?" Yeah, right. From the day Jason was born, Dagmar had done nothing but torture him. She hated him. She told him so all the time.

She pinched him, scratched him, pinned him against a wall until he promised to do whatever disgusting chore she was trying to get out of.

She was three years older than he was. And a whole head taller. Jason was no match for her. His only defense was to put her in his horror movies. He could hardly wait to see his sister's face at the opening of The Dagmartian. Revenge for all those years of abuse.

"Here we are," Mom said cheerfully as she pulled into the driveway in front of the Rec Center. "Are you ready, Jason?"

Jason's heart pounded. The only thing worse than sharing breathing space with his sister was having to go to his swimming lesson. Especially on test day.

"I don't feel so good," Jason moaned.

"Oh, Jason," Mom said. "You always say that."

"But I really don't," Jason insisted. His stomach felt like it had grown a million feet. And all those feet were running and jumping and kicking inside him.

Mom reached over from the front seat and felt his forehead. "I think you're just nervous."

No lie, Jason thought. Every time he went near the pool, he remembered what happened at Grandpa Larson's cabin last August. It was April now, but the memory was just as strong.

Grandpa had taken Jason and Dagmar out fishing on the lake. Jason wasn't sure what happened. Just that one minute he was in the boat, the next he was in the water. Without his life jacket. It all happened so fast.

Water had washed over his head and rushed into his nose and mouth. It tasted like dead fish and rotting weeds. Jason gagged. He tried to cough, but he couldn't. Couldn't get rid of the water.

Desperately, he clawed at the water, struggling to get to the surface. He had to breathe. Had to get air. But he couldn't. He was going down. Down to the bottom of the lake.

It was true what they said about your whole life passing before your eyes when you die.

Except Jason didn't die.

Eventually, Grandpa got his big arm around Jason's middle and fished him out of the water. Then he pounded on Jason's back until Jason threw up all the lake water that he'd swallowed.

When Mom heard what happened, she said, "That's it! You need to learn to swim."

Jason had never taken swimming lessons. He never wanted to. Swimming was Dagmar's thing, not his. Jason preferred writing and acting.

But now Jason had no choice. If he ever wanted more writing or acting classes, he would have to pass tadpole swimming first.

"I know you can do this, Jason," Mom said gently as she waited for him to get out of the car. "I know you can put your fears aside and learn to swim."

Why did grownups always think they knew you could do something when really you couldn't? Like last fall when that jerk Tank Talbott broke Jason's best friend Luke Murphy's nose. Their teacher, Mr. Burns, had actually said, "I know you boys can put your differences aside and learn to get along."

Right. Tank had been hassling Luke since the day his family moved in next door to Luke's. Half the time Luke couldn't even play outside in his own backyard because Tank would come over and beat him up. How was Luke supposed to just "put aside" six years of that? What finally happened was Luke moved to Texas during Christmas vacation.

Too bad Jason couldn't move away from swimming lessons.

"Go on, now." Mom nodded at the door. "I need to go park the car. I'll see you inside."

Jason forced himself to open the door and get out.

"Remember!" Mom stuck her head out her window. "Positive attitude! If you think you can do it, you can."

Right, Jason thought as he trudged up the zillion and one steps that led to the Rec Center. He opened the heavy glass door and headed left toward the pool area. A chlorine smell hung in the air.

Jason's swimming teacher, Mr. Abram, was reading a magazine at the front desk.

"Hello, Jason." Mr. Abram said. He didn't even look up from his magazine.

Jason knew that Mr. Abram only liked kids who got right in the pool, put their faces in the water, and did what they were told to do.

Jason took his glasses off. He was about to leave them at the desk like he always did when suddenly he got an idea.

He cleared his throat to get Mr. Abram's attention. "Um, if you want, you could just give me my green slip now. Go ahead and mark fail on it."

Mr. Abram looked up at Jason. "Don't you at least want to take the test first?"

Jason shrugged. "I've taken it two times already." And failed it both times.

Mr. Abram scratched his head. "This test is very simple. All you have to do is tread water for two minutes, float on your back, and swim the crawl one length of the pool."

Yeah. Real simple. "Do I have to put my face in the water for the crawl?" Jason asked.

"It wouldn't be a crawl stroke if you...