LIFE

Oh, The Tangled Web We Weave

Jim, the keys, and their people

When my unemployment compensation had run out, I let my buddy, Howie, convince me to take the lifeguarding job he had pulled some strings to get for me. If you’re one of those backstory nuts, you can read all about it right here. So, on the day I met Jim, the lifeguard I was replacing, I realized how totally not lifeguard material I was. You’ll see …

Sept. 22, 1962

Jim was brown as a nut, except for his chest where the hair was a black mat. Down the bridge of his nose, he had a white strip the size of a Band-Aid, I’d only seen on lifeguards — usually only on their noses, but sometimes in more liberal amounts across their shoulders. Most of them had it. They wore it like a badge.

Jim’s hair was blond, but it could have been bleached. Several keys hung on the end of a chain just below the mat of his chest.

He faced me in front of the pool maintenance room in all his tanness, appraising me, much as Mr. Tarsdale had, but so far without a wink. He’d have been about six-two, Howie’s height, but for some reason he chose to plant his legs farther than shoulder-width apart, making him more my height. He was either trying to get an idea of how short people felt, or he thought there’d be a better understanding between us if our eyes were at the same level. I wasn’t confident about either of those theories.

“You have your zinc?”

“No, sir.”

“Jim.”

“No … Jim.”

“Sun’s brutal.”

“I’ll get some.”

He brought his feet together, got to his full height and looked down his zinc-oxided nose at me, and blew two perfectly good theories. “What we have in here,” he said, looking over his shoulder and tapping a knuckle on the green door while simultaneously giving the keys a shake with his free hand, “is the brains of the whole pool system.”

Are, are, I kept repeating to myself; are the brains. I chastised myself, but I couldn’t help it. I’d become a damned grammar snob.

“You’ll be wearing these keys around your neck — what’d you say your name is?”

“Jay.”

“Right. You never want to lose these, Jay. Never. I can tell you right now, if you do — job over.”

That seemed odd, if not severe. “Doesn’t Mr. Tarsdale have spares.”

He considered my question. Then he considered its source. “That’s not the point. The keys could get in the wrong hands.” He looked at me long and hard. “You know what I mean?”

I looked back at him, but didn’t take as long before I said, “I guess I don’t.”

“Two words: Three Palms.”

I repeated what I heard. “Two words, Three Palms.” Why did he have such an expectant look on his face when the words he gave me sounded like clues a player would give his partner for charades? “Jim, I’m sorry to let you down, but I don’t have a clue.”

“You haven’t been a lifeguard in a San Antonio Motor Hotel.” He made this as a statement of fact.

“No.”

“Well …” He took a breath. “That figures. Listen, Three Palms is our nearest competitor.”

“You mean distance-wise.”

He let the next breath out noisily. “Size-wise. Money-making-wise. You dig?”

I laughed. Then, seeing his expression I apologized.

“Yeah, Jay, it’s not funny. So you can see if your keys got in their hands …” He waited for my response.

I cleared my throat.

He nodded.

I cleared my throat again. “Jim, I’m going to pretend I’m stupider than I honestly really am, but just suppose my key got in the wrong hands — just suppose — what would he use it for?”

“Jesus … well, that’s obvious, Jay. He’d get into the pool maintenance room and mess with all the settings.” He gave me his most long-suffering look. “What’s gonna happen to our business if some people get sick on account of swimming in the pool?”

“I imagine the same as if people got ptomaine poisoning from the restaurant.”

“Yeah, but that’s not your problem, now is it? I got pictures. I’ll get ’em to you.”

“Pictures of what?”

“Their people, Jay. So you’ll know ’em.”

Mr. Tarsdale let me go home early after he introduced me to the café manager to set up the daily free meal. He walked me to the car.

“Jim filled you in on everything?”

Was he talking about their people? “Yeah, he was pretty complete.”

“I told him you were an experienced lifeguard, so he probably didn’t want to bore you.”

I let out a silent sigh. Damn it, Howie.

“See you bright and early. You have a book?”

“I do, yes.”

He laughed, winked, turned and headed back toward the café.

“Damn it, Howie!”

“Can’t a guy get through the door before you start damning him?”

“Not if he deserves it. You told him I had my life-saving certificate. Okay, I guess I can live with that little white — but damn it, man, you told him I’d been a lifeguard?”

“Well, yeah … why would you get a life-saving certificate unless you were a lifeguard? Why would someone get a teaching certificate unless — ?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, a teacher. Brilliant! ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive.’”

“Whoa!” He leaped from the couch and faced me, still sitting there, ogling the crazy man. “Whoa, Jay … You keep writing lines like that, you’ll be out of the lifeguarding business before you know it.”

“You know I didn’t write it, Howie — and will you be serious a minute? It was because he thought I was already experienced that Jim didn’t spend any time with me, at all, on the pool equipment.”

“But did he wink at you? Geez, Jay, maybe he was taking it slow. Thought he’d get you on the pool equipment later.”

“Okay, now, this is like talking to the wall. I’ll tell you what — tomorrow I’m going in and quitting.”

He rubbed his jaw. “Okay, now, not good, Jay. Please … I’m sorry. That could cost me my job.” He sank back onto the couch and turned to me. “Tarsdale’s a golfing buddy with my boss. The wrong word and we’d both be out of work.”

“Well, you could show some maturity, then … and a little consideration for what I’m going through.”

“You’re right, on both. So what’s the problem?”

“I already told you. Since Tarsdale thinks I’m the second most experienced freaking lifeguard in the whole freaking world — ” I had to wait for Howie’s giggle to subside before I could continue — “Jim didn’t think it was important to educate me on, whatchacallit, ph levels, and all that.”

“It’s not a biggy, Jay. Just keep the act going. I’ll dig around and get the information you need. We’ll fill in the cracks as we go. Besides, this is the sixties, don’t forget. The pool machines do all that for you.”

That worried me. “You’ll get the info, and teach me CPR, then, right?”

“Right.”

“Soon.”

“I told you I would.” He got up. “P, b and j?

“I’m sick of peanut butter.” I followed him into the kitchen, pulled the chair from under the rickety table. I thought of Jim and laughed. “You wouldn’t believe that character.”

He slathered a blanket of peanut butter across one slice of his bread, scooped a generous spoonful of strawberry jam on the other, spread it with the bottom of the spoon. He glanced up at me as he ceremoniously placed one slice atop the other, guiding all the angles to perfect alignment.

“Jesus, Howie,” I said, watching him place the knife blade, corner to corner, on the sandwich, and part it with the panache of Moses, “do you pay this much attention to June?”

“Oh, a lot more … but then she makes my p, b and j’s for me. I don’t have to concentrate.” He took a generous bite, moved it to the side with his tongue. “So what kind of character is this Jim?”

“You’ve never seen him … well, first of all, picture this guy about your height, tanned the color of your peanut butter, with this silver streak down the bridge of his nose — ”

“Oh, the zinc oxide. You gotta get some. It keeps your nose from burning and the chicks love it.”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll get some.” I took a gulp of air. It wasn’t easy to tell an entertaining story to Howie. “So we are outside the pool maintenance room and he’s got these keys around his neck.” I went on to tell him the penalty for losing the keys.

“Fired? That’s bull shit. They can’t fire you for that.”

“Au contraire, my friend. On account of the pictures.”

“What — what pictures?”

“Their people”

He stared at me.

“He has pictures, Howie!”

“You have them?”

“No, I haven’t seen them yet. He said he’ll get them for me.”

“Well, bring them home. I want to see them.”

“That’s just it.” I held up my hand for him to wait and then I laughed so much, thinking about it, I had to catch my breath before I could finish. “He said I couldn’t have them.” I sputtered some more. “Dangerous. He told me to memorize their faces.”

“The guy’s a nutcase. I’ll check around and see if my boss knows anything about him.”

“Crazy as a loon.”

“Yeah.” He stared at me reflectively and took the last bite of his sandwich. “Gotta go see June, but listen, you need to get some of that Zinc Oxide. It’ll make all the difference.”