That Friday you are met by a pool full of retards: downs kids so broken some wear helmets. Prior to this day your mother and you go to the Y to deal with her post aneurism weakness, and you usually have the place to yourself. Ever since the leak in her head things like physical therapy are your only focus. That, and the refusal of undertow. But this day offers something else. Consider: These swimmers splash and laugh as if they are simultaneously drowning and having the time of their lives. What you think they think and do is not what you think and do. On that Friday when this one damaged body comes up to you and asks what you are doing. Here. Standing in shallow end. Not swimming. You come to realize you’ve not done so much as a lap as your mother tries to remember how to do the backstroke. In her smile, you see only waves.