from my mother's kitchen

Winter over, the swimming pool in the park opened its doors Scattered over lawn-covered terraces around the rectangle of shimmering blue water, young male and female bodies lay. Chatting, recounting stories about, this one and that one, who’d done this and that. Well warmed up one of them shouted last one in is a scary cat. Splashing, jumping and diving from the high board or performing flip flops, the pool teemed with writhing squirming virile adolescents Fooling around took place. “let’s duck him”, “let's grab her and pull down her costume”. Charlie’s whistle blew. Rough play is forbidden.   Lanes roped off half the pool. Training began in earnest. 40 lengths of kicking while holding on to a board. 6 feet tall, the school’s second-fastest breast-stroke swimmer, Leon aimed to be the fastest in the forthcoming championships. “60 seconds” announced Charlie, checking his timepiece. To win 100  meters in 59  needed to be achieved.   Charmian eyed her hero’s muscular ph

  "The picture doesn't show me", I cried. Not being noticed, or left out of the group, was my greatest fear, and it has come about. Pictures don’t lie. Ranting and raving won’t reverse the situation. The damage to my ego was complete and disastrous.   The memory of posing for this photograph is etched in my mind. Somebody, or some accident had removed me. All my mates are there. Sorrel Waks, John Miller, and Kenny Resnick are all there. Loyal buddies as they were, it’s unimaginable to think that they allowed themselves to be photographed without me.   Some said that I was hallucinating, a common accusation among kids playing a joke on me, making me think that I was crazy or something. Impossible, I was there, why doesn’t my image show up?   Mrs. Deacon’s voice rang loudly in my ears, "The grade photo will be taken tomorrow". Neatly dressed in full school uniform was a strict requirement. Black blazers, and grey socks up to our knees. Ma was informed