How Men Meet

A Storyphoto

I woke to a slender, muscular young man in a black speedo leaning over me. “You okay now, buddy?” Was I okay? Why wouldn’t I be? Then, I remembered: the water. I had swum out too far. I couldn’t make it back. I couldn’t touch bottom.

“Did you save me?” I asked. He nodded.

“Mouth to mouth. The paramedics are on the way.” Thank you seemed so inadequate but I said it anyway. “You’re welcome," he replied, with a lopsided smile. "It’s my job. I’m a lifeguard.”

Just then, people in uniforms rushed up, interrupting us. The paramedics. They put me on a gurney. I held my hand up to the lifeguard. He took it and walked with us to the ambulance. As they slid me inside, I heard him ask, “Which hospital?” I couldn’t make out the response.

The lifeguard leaned into the vehicle. “I’ll come see how you’re doing,” he told me. “If that’s okay.” I nodded that it was and tried to smile. He gave me another lopsided grin and took my hand back in his. “My name’s Emerson,” he said.

“Tim," I answered as the doors closed and the siren started. I lay back. Emerson, I said to myself. What a great name.