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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1164486-Swimming-Hole
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Other · #1164486
Memories of a cherished place.
I waved to Bill Ploughman, sitting on his tractor, as I walked the old dirt road towards my destination. The old man simply nodded in recognition of the gesture. I had met Bill about eight years ago when I helped him with a pack of wild dogs that were starting to harass his livestock. The third generation farmer was as solid as the land he had raised his family on. His son had died in Operation Desert Storm. His daughter had gone off to college and never came back. She couldn’t take the dirt and the smell that permeated everything that she had. Bill kept on working the farm though. It was the only life he knew. With no one to pass it on to the farm would die with him. A sad legacy if ever I heard one.

I headed towards a place I had found when I was tracking that pack, my own private swimming hole. It was a bend in the river that allowed it to deepen. Bill allowed me to use it as long as, how did he put it? “You don’t have none of them wild orgy parties.” I had only brought a few friends to this place; I prefer the solitude. I turned off the road and skirted his field till I got to the dip towards the river. I followed it down to the river’s edge and followed it a hundred yards or so to the spot I was looking for.

It was just as I had left it. The sunlight was streaming down through the trees to light the river. It was that deep blue green that marked deep. Cold, water. The river was fed by several tributaries, which in turn were fed by springs and runoff further up the line. The sun lit the far bank with its grassy bank, my destination. I stripped of my clothes and rolled them up in the tarp and blanket I had carried here in a roll. I walked across rocks that I had piled up over the years to form the dam that made the deep bend even deeper. The water was just as I remembered; cold enough to chill beer, which was something I had done on a couple of occasions when I brought friends here.

I reached the far bank, rolled out my tarp and then lay the blanket on top of it. The sun seemed to know that I had come and it shone its brilliance down as if it was welcoming me back. I smiled a slow smile as I felt the stress of the world slip away. I shed the shackles of civilization and let loose a whoop as I jumped into the water with a splash. I came up gasping for air. Wow, that was cold. I swam to the far bank and climbed up the bank. There was what I was looking for, the huge elm that slightly hung over the water. On the far side of the elm was tied the end of a bull rope. I released it and gave it a good strong pull, still no sign of weakness. I grabbed it and took a run at the bank I had just climbed up. I let my momentum propel my body out over the water. When I reached the apex of my arc, I released and again plummeted into that frigid water. When I surfaced I was laughing like some fool. I climbed the bank to where my blanket lay and stretched out on it, face up..., I let the sun soak into my body and warm my chilled muscles.

As I lay there, I thought back over the years I had come here. Bill was protective of his land. If he found you on it, he would sure as shooting chase you off with the shotgun he kept on his tractor for “varmints.” Both four legged and two legged as he put it. I had earned his trust by doing what I told him I could do. I often wondered though, what he thought of the yells and screams I let loose when I was back here by myself. Ahhh well, I closed my eyes and slowly relaxed. I let the sun dry my body and just as I was close to drifting off I jumped to my feet and made another run to the bank’s edge and jumped in.


I didn’t have to worry about rocks. I had moved them out years ago, some with the help of friends, they now made part of the dam I had built across the stream. I splashed around and frolicked in the water like I did as a child. There was no one to judge me or tell me that I shouldn’t be doing that. I let the child that was always just below the surface bubble free. After I had played for awhile, I climbed back out and lay down on my blanket. I let the sun warm me again. I lay there and looked at the sun streaming through the leaves, giving this place an almost surreal aura. I slowly drifted off to sleep, just a nap. I awoke about twenty minutes later, refreshed. I got up and walked to the bank. I sat down and plucked a blade of grass and tossed it into the water. I watched it as the blade slowly made its way down the river. I sat there wondering where it would end up. Would anyone see it and wonder how it got there? Ahhh, enough of that, time for more fun. I stood and jumped back into the water and played some more.

I then started checking the bottom with my feet seeing if any new rocks had been exposed, a couple of small stones but nothing big enough to have to worry about. I climbed back up the bank by the elm taking the rope with me. A couple of more swings and plummets and I climbed back to my blanket. I lay down and relaxed, slowly falling asleep.
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