Fourteen Kids at the County Pool

Through the Fireworks

The pool closed at eight. That’s the rule. The town shoots off the fireworks from the far side of the fairgrounds at about ten, once it’s good and dark.

At ten to eight, the head guard blew her whistle three times and everybody started climbing out. Craig Dahl showed up in his work clothes about then. He found Melissa sitting with me and just stood there with his hands in his pockets.

The kids were gathering up their towels. The little ones were whining about being tired. And the head guard came over to me with her clipboard.

“You all are the street with fourteen kids,” she said.

“That’s us,” I said.

“You know you can see the whole show from the deck,” she said. “Best seats in the county. We have to stay till the fire department’s done anyway, because they park the trucks in our lot. If you want to keep your crew up here on the deck, out of the water, I’ll stay with you.”

I told her she didn’t have to do that. She said she knew. She said her little brother had been on Elm Street once for a birthday party and Logan had let him use his good goggles.

So we stayed. Fourteen kids and Kim and me and Craig and Melissa, sitting on our towels along the edge of the deck at the county pool.

Kim went home for the little ones’ pajamas and came back. Craig drove to the gas station and came back with two bags of ice and a box of Popsicles. Melissa held Hailey Burns, who had fallen asleep again, on her lap like she was her own.

When the first one went up, every kid on that deck said ooh at the exact same time. I looked down the row. Logan and Tanner were sitting side by side with their towels around their shoulders, heads tipped back, mouths open.

Craig sat down next to me on the concrete. He didn’t say anything for a long time.

“I should’ve given that money back the first night,” he said finally. “I knew it. I just didn’t have it, and I didn’t want to tell you I didn’t have it.”

“I know,” I said.

“I’m going to make it right,” he said.

“I know you are,” I said.

That was all. Two men on the edge of a county pool in the dark. You don’t need a lot of words when the other fellow already knows what he did.