Chapter 10: The Swim Meet

"No," I said. "He doesn't look sick."

The kitchen was quiet.

"He looks like he's waiting for somebody to say he can stop," I said.

The caseworker nodded slowly and wrote one line.

She didn't tell me what it was.

Then she packed her folder, shook Aunt Dot's hand, and told me she would see me in two weeks.

At the door she said, "Keep the pages somewhere flat."

I took that as good advice.

On Saturday Polly dragged me to the Marlow rec center for her swim meet, and Aunt Dot came along with a thermos and a book she did not read.

The pool smelled so strongly of chlorine that my eyes watered.

Bleachers ran along one wall, full of parents with towels and foam fingers.

"Sit there," Polly said, pointing, with her cap already on. "Third row. Don't clap for anyone but me, it's a conflict of interest."

"Okay."

"Zack. That was a joke."

"I know it was."

"No, you didn't." She squinted. "You were about to apologize to the other team."

I was.

I closed my mouth and sat down.

She won the fifty free by almost a full body length.

When she pulled herself up on the wall, she looked straight at the third row and raised both fists, and I found that I was standing and yelling.

I was yelling something stupid, her last name and then her whole first name, over and over.

Aunt Dot had her thermos cup halfway to her mouth, and she was grinning at me.

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