08/01/2018
SPOKEN WORD
"Fragments From A Fractured Life"
by Al Pugliese
A Season of Change
One summer when I was around ten years of age I went to a public swimming pool in our neighborhood. We called it “the swimmo”. I didn’t know how to swim and my mother warned me not to go in the “deep end”. It was an unusually hot and “muggy” day and “the swimmo” was packed. Only one lifeguard was on duty and there was no way he could keep an eye on everyone.
I changed into my swim trunks, put my clothes in a locker and headed for the pool, towel in hand. There were so many adults and kids in the pool it was almost impossible to do anything, let alone swim. Kids were jumping in and out of the water, doing “cannon balls” and splashing each other. Adults were wading in the shallow end with their toddlers and generally having a good time.
Entering the water at the shallow end, I quickly moved to the side of the pool to avoid being jostled and splashed. I held on to the ledge and began slowly moving to the “deep end”. Someone bumped into me and I lost my grip. Before I knew it I went under. Panicked, I began thrashing about, eyes closed, (I was afraid of getting chlorine in them), desperately trying to find my way back to the surface.
Out of breath, I began gasping for air, only to find myself swallowing water, lots of water. Soon, I was exhausted and stopped thrashing about. My eyes opened and I sank, slowly, to the bottom of the pool. I could see the torso and legs of people moving about and heard the muffled sounds of their voices.
As I began to lose consciousness, the underwater scene changed. I could hear music, music like I never heard before; orchestral, other worldly; trumpets were playing and angels were singing and I began to be lifted upward. The music and singing grew louder and louder. I heard stringed instruments, and a chorus of praise and worship. Soon a city came into view, unlike any city I had ever seen before; shimmering, celestial, suspended in space, brilliantly illuminated with beautiful gates, azure blue skies, pastoral colors, pearly, golden, crystal rivers and streams and a rainbow of light.
Multitudes of people were streaming out of the city across rolling green hills and fields in full harvest to welcome me. They were standing there, thousands of them, waiting for me; peace, joy, love, rest, bliss, home.
Suddenly, someone grabbed my hand and everything disappeared. Underwater, I saw the torsos and legs of people moving about and heard the muffled sounds of their voices as I was being pulled, quickly, to the surface. My hand caught the ledge of the pool and my head was now out of the water.
I looked around to see who saved me; no one. Kids were jumping in and out of the water and splashing each other. Adults were wading in the shallow end with their toddlers. The lifeguard was sitting in a chair oblivious to everything.
Exhausted, I was barely able to pull myself out of the pool and onto the cement. Lying on my stomach, I turned my head to one side and coughed. Water was expelled from my lungs and I stood up. I grabbed my towel, steadied myself, and headed to the locker room. I changed my clothes, wrapped my trunks in my towel an left the complex.
On my way home, I passed under a huge, old willow tree.
The tree was “alive” with caterpillars. Hundreds of caterpillars were dropping from the tree onto my shoulders and onto the ground. Startled, I began brushing them off and, careful not to step on any, continued on my way.
Looking back on it now, I suppose it was a season of change; for the caterpillars and for me.
