The Deep End

Everything was going swimmingly until a man cannonballed into the pool, nearly landing on Jim Mitchem’s daughter. Could this get resolved without punches?

There comes a time in life when you figure that your fist-fighting days are behind you.

I’m 46, and that time is now. Actually, that time was a long time ago, since I haven’t had a drink in nearly two decades—and most of the fights I partook in were fueled by alcohol.

So, when I was faced with the prospect of having to beat another human being recently, it was a bit unsettling.

Here’s what happened: I took my daughters to our local swimming pool. There were only a few people there, so we were swimming across the deep end and fetching things off the bottom. I was trying to teach them how to effectively manage their breath under water. No one was using the diving boards. That is, until Jackass Man jumped in.

I had just reached one side of the pool when I heard a big splash. I turned. A man then surfaced and began shouting at the lifeguard. “There are kids in here? In the deep end? What’s that shit?”

He was upset. Then I saw my nine-year-old daughter surface near me. Oh my God, she was under him when he jumped. She was terrified and began to cry. I lifted her out of the water and sat her on the edge.

“Did that man just jump on you?”

She shook her head, looking down.

“Did he touch you?”

She shook her head again. “He scared me. And now I’m embarrassed.”

I was relieved, and looked around for the man who I was certain was now making his way over to apologize.

Only, he didn’t. He looked over at us, as did everyone else at this point, and then climbed back onto the diving board and dove in again. By then I was fucking livid. He then walked over to his chair, toweled off, and sat down next to a woman. Then I swear he looked at us and smiled.

♦♦♦

Here’s the part where I behaved like a good man. Despite the furor boiling inside me, I took a deep breath. Near me were both my daughters and a few of their friends. I tried getting them all to get back into the water. They complied, except for Agatha.

“I’m too embarrassed,” she managed to say through quiet tears. I started to climb out of the pool to confront Jackass Man when I heard the girls whispering that the man should come say something. They were right.

Anyone I know would apologize to a child if they accidentally scared the piss out of them. But instead of beating the daylights out of the guy, I pulled my daughter into the water and to a quiet area away from the other girls.

“Look Agatha, this is something you’ve got to deal with,” I told her. “Do you think that this man meant to jump on you?” She nodded. “Then you’ve got to tell him so. Then he’ll apologize.” I took another deep breath.

A few minutes later, I was proud to see that she mustered the courage to walk over to where he was sitting. But as she arrived, he stood up and walked right past her. She looked at me and shrugged. She was still visibly upset—not because he didn’t look around before jumping off the board, but because he didn’t look around at all.

He was oblivious to everyone. I knew there would be a long talk coming later that night about the idea of selfishness and going through life with blinders on. But first, it was my turn to approach him.

By this point the fire in my belly had morphed into butterflies. I’d lost the fury. I got out of the pool and surveyed him as I approached. He was much shorter than I am, but he was kind of stocky. I’d have to go hard and fast directly at his nose to put him down with one shot. No way he’d come up after that.

He was talking with a woman in the shade near the concession area. He was about ten years younger than me and wore sunglasses on the back of his head. I put my hand on his shoulder, smiled, and stuck out my hand.

“My name is Jim,” I said firmly. He put his hand out and I gave it a sharp squeeze that rolled two of his knuckles. He didn’t wince, but he wanted to. I never took my eyes off of his. I was in control. If he did decide to fight, I was in the perfect position to end it quickly. But I somehow knew there would be no punches thrown today.

“You know that child you nearly hit jumping off the diving board earlier?” I asked him.

“Yeah, but that was a complete accident. They weren’t supposed to be in there. They…”

“Regardless of whose fault it was,” I interrupted, “she’s only nine and she’s pretty upset.”

“Would she like me to apologize? I’m really sorry. It wasn’t my fault.”

“I know, I know, kids can be kids,” I conceded. “But an apology is probably the best thing right now. She’s right over here.” I pointed toward my daughter, even though he knew damn well who she was.

Then he walked across the deck and politely apologized to both my daughters. But when he started to give them a lecture about swimming in the deep end, I interjected again. He got the point and walked away. I gave him a little slap on the back for good measure.

My daughters smiled. And so from their point of view, I was a hero that confronted a dragon and slay him without bloodshed, which is not the way I used to handle things.

♦♦♦

Other than their friend’s fathers, I’m the only male influence in the lives of my daughters. I’m acutely aware of how their interactions with me will shape their future relationships with men.

They know I’m bigger and older than they are. But more than that, they know I’m just a regular person who tries to do more good than harm. I’m no hero, and I make mistakes in their presence every day. On this day, though, I did something good. Something that I hope will remain with them.

For the record, I’m grateful the guy didn’t want a fight, and that I didn’t go with my gut instinct. Sometimes being a good man is as simple as taking a deep breath.