Synchronized Swimming, part of McCutcheon's new novel

[mccutcheon]

Synchronicity is more than just a poor song by The Police. I've been hard at work writing a novel and haven't been getting out much. Music is my best friend.

So there I am typing away and listening to the new Orbital. Track 9 comes on it instantly gives me the shivers, it's carnival giddiness. I can't help but smile. And as the song, Waving Not Drowning, floats around me one of my characters is in a bit more precarious situation; he is drowning not swimming. It didn't plan on being there at the exact moment that song came on, it's just the way it happened. Here it is, and I suggest reading it to the sounds of the new Orbital album.

The scene is a Greek island. Alex has a swollen foot from falling off the ferry the night before. He didn't fall overboard, just to the deck below. They have just arrived and go to the beach....


Don grabs the bags and Jerry grabs me. He helps me walk as I lean on him. My foot seems to be getting worse. Outside the building there is a little path through some barren shrubs. It descends down a rocky path. It's a struggle but worth the effort. Fifty yards from the gaudy pink building we arrive on an expansive fine-sanded beach. People are sun bathing already and playing volleyball. A few others are out for early morning swims. There is a shack at the foot of the path selling drinks. The guy working in the shack is German. He exchanges money for us. We buy ice-cold beer, giant sized Heinekens, and sit down on the sand. It's 8:30 am in Corfu.

Don and Jerry unpack the backgammon. They start playing a game and then soon argue over moves. I put on my sunglasses and Walkman. We recline in the rising sun as the day begins. For us the night has not ended. About an hour later two blonde Australian girls plop down next to us. I have seen a lot of beautiful blonde girls on Corfu and still no one who looks Greek.

“G'day.� They say dropping their bags and bikini tops.

“Hello.�

“We're going out to the raft. Want to join us for a swim?�

“Where?�

“Out there.� The Australian girls point to a speck on the horizon of the water. “There is a raft out there. It's great fun.�

“Sure.�

Don and Jerry stand up. I hobble to my one good foot.

“You have to stay and watch the stuff,� Jerry says to Don.

“Why?�

“Because I say so,� says Jerry. He is really looking to get laid.

To Don's credit he demurs in silence before making a scene. I owe him one. So does Jerry.

The girls run down to the water, their bare breasts bouncing in the sunshine. Jerry struts and I hobble. Once in the water I use my arms to swim because kicking with my one bad foot is too painful.

The girls and Jerry swim faster than I do. Before I know it I'm losing my ability to stay afloat. My arms are weak and start to give out. I thrust with my legs but the pain is unbearable. I call out to Jerry. He is too far ahead to hear me. I turn back to shore and make frantic movements with my arms to Don. I need his help. He sees me and thinks I'm rubbing it in that he had to stay and watch the stuff. He flips me off. I can't believe it's the second time I've almost drowned in five hours. I'm starting to fully understand the fragility and importance of human life. My life. I should know better.

I go under in flailing my arms, swallowing water. I'm convinced this is it. Then a body is helping me. It's one of the Australian girls. She has swum back to save me. I am thrilled to be saved and still too frantic. Despite knowing better I fight against the girl in a state of panic.

“Call down, I have you,� She says. “You will be all right.�

I let her save me. She wraps an arm around me. I relax my head against her breasts as she takes me ashore. On the beach she gives me mouth to mouth. I pretend to be more out of it then I really am. Then when she is through and I try to talk I realize I wasn't pretending after all. Sometimes we trick ourselves and bend reality when faced with very scary situations.

“Thanks.�

“You are stupid.� She spits into the sand near my head and then runs back into the water. I watch her swim strongly out to the raft. I know she is right.

“What was all that about?" Asks Don.

“My leg hurt too much to swim. I was drowning not waving you asshole.�

“Oh.�

“Where's Jerry?�

“Out on the raft.�

“You know I didn't think it was so cool that you guys left me here.�

“There were only two girls.�

“So?�

“So there were three of us, besides somebody had to watch the stuff.�

“Yeah, notice how I didn't say anything?�

I hate it when people you know do something cool, and you think it's cool and that should be it, then they acknowledge that what they did was cool and ruin it. I wish people could do appreciated things and then not have to bring it up.

Don looks wishfully out at the raft.

“Well I'm here now. Why don't you join them?�

“You won't mind? You sure you are all right?�

“I'm fine. I'll watch the stuff.�

“All right, see you in a little.�

Don runs down the beach and splashes into the water.

“Tell that girl thanks, and that I'm sorry.� I yell out.

Don is already under the water. He swims like a little kid with no fluid motion. Then again he will make it to the raft and the two topless girls.

I limp back to the shack. Buy another giant seized Heineken. The first sip is glorious and washes away the salt water in my throat. I lay down with our backpacks. Turn on the laptop. After nothing comes to me I decide it's a bad idea to write on the beach. I don't want sand to get into the machine. I put my headphones and sunglasses on. I drink the beer and watch the young gorgeous European people.