Lifeguard on Duty

At sixteen I had not given enough thought to how much of my time as a lifeguard would involve hosing down a public restroom. I had not given any thought at all to what hosing down an already wet bathroom would feel like in the dead of winter. I had given thought to what sunglasses I would wear and how I would keep my curls in place while looking like I just woke up like that. I had given a lot of thought to what sandals would look the best while covering my one weird toe. The image of me, wet and freezing, at 8:30 PM pm on a Friday night in January trying very hard to forget what we had learned in biology about water born pathogens had not crossed my mind. I mostly didn't want to smell like pizza or fries. Somehow, this felt worse.

I was rushing, both because I hated the end of the night cleaning list and because we had closed early because of snow. I was just thinking about making a plea to the shift manager, Kyle, that we skip the rest of the wipe downs (in the name of safety!) when he came in to the Women's Restroom.

"Can you shut off the main water?" he asked frantically? 'Manager' was a pretty loose title at the Community Recreation Center. This kid was 18. He wasn't Bill Gates.

"Uh, there is more than one kind of water?" I said, knowing that if I didn't know how to do it I probably wouldn't be asked to. Probably it was in the boiler room and looked similar, albeit perhaps larger, than the one at my house. Also, Kent, the maintenance guy was attached, like on an emotional level, to his label maker, so I am betting I could Nancy Drew the valve if I had to.

"The snow is getting bad, I think we should turn off the water." Kyle said. He looked like my dad when he tries to cook. Even I knew better than this.

"No, the pipes won't freeze if there is running water. The pool is heated and the filter cycles constantly. Just turn on the sinks to a slow drip, it will be fine." I set the hose down and started toward the line of sinks. The walkie-talkie on Kyle's hip interrupted me.

"Hey, uh, Kyle? Yeah, so, the front door has like, uh, a hundred feet of snow on it. We can't get out."

"What? Wha.. .ok, I'll be there. Call Kent to come out."

"He din't come in today."

"Shit." Kyle looked, emotional. He looked frozen in place. The panic from before replaced with blank eyes and a stillness I found even more unnerving. I didn't want to make him feel badly for being nervous. Being in charge of stuff is the worst. I'm the oldest of five. I should know.

"Do you want me to come?" I asked, then, to sound more casual I added, "I want to see the Great Wall of Snow I have heard so much about."

Kyle nodded and we started out. He turned left out of the restroom instead of right toward the front doors.

"Let's just see if Kent is here, first. And we can try to get the back door open." This was actually a solid plan. It was smart to check that heavy back door before it got frozen into place. Nice job, Kyle! Fight, flight or freeze be damned!

We walked into the boiler room, hot and humid even in winter. The hums of motors and heaters and fans and the pumping of water made it feel creepy in the daylight. It was dark out now and snowing. I wondered if I was feeding off of Kyle's stress of if the low pitched hums were messing with my mind. I had read somewhere that haunted houses play a low frequency sound, inaudible sometimes, to give the patrons a sense of impending doom. Sounds we cannot hear can make us afraid. Knowing that wasn't helping just now.

We looked around for Kent. There was no use shouting for him, it was too loud in there and Kent always wore noise cancelling headphones. We found his desk empty, no coat on the back of the chair and no Diet Coke bottle in the trash. I guess he really did take the day off.

We tried the back door. It was a double door, metal and huge. We could seen the ice built up on the bottom but we tried anyway. We pushed and threw our bodies against the door but it is hard for two teenagers who sought out the laziest job in existence to win a physical contest with nature.

Kyle worked his way behind the desk to the filing cabinets. He pushed one aside and revealed a small, closet door. Maybe not a closet, it was shorter than either Kyle of myself and a handle made of twine.

Kyle looked back at me and I thought for a minute he was going to ask me to turn around. His face looked like I had walked in on him on the toilet. He paused only a second, though, and then tugged at the twine, stepped over the small lip at the bottom and went inside.

I didn't know if I should follow or wait. He had not told me to stay outside I wanted to know what weird stuff Kent had back there. He wasn't creepy, really, just odd. Like, maybe he collected all the old filter covers and had them named and arranged in families.

As I stepped one foot inside the closet I realized it wasn't a closet but a room. Well, a closet-sized room, really. It had a chair, one from the Kid Club room, in the corner that had a small lamp on it. A foam mattress you might take camping was against the back with a sleeping bag, blanket and pillow. A backpack sat at the end of the bed.

"Holy. . .Kent lives here?" I couldn't believe it. I really thought Kent had a wife. I assumed she had to be odd as well, but I was sure she existed.

"No." Kyle said. "I do."

He unzipped the backpack and put in a flashlight, and two boxes of granola bars he grabbed from under the chair. He also grabbed a ring of keys that had been hung on a nail by the lamp. He jingled the keys at me.

"They keep snacks in the Kid Club. I don't think the city will mind. We need to eat, right?"

"Uh, yeah, wait. . .are we.. .do you. . .what is happening?"

"I think we might be snowed in. We should tell the others. And try to find some blankets."

"I threw lost and found towels in the wash earlier. They should be dry by now. Let's just build a fort and have a sleep-over!" I get snarky when I feel out of control.

"That is actually a great idea. Let's go."