Aquawooing
by Zsolt Stanik
This was a
lovely sunny day. Not a cloud in the sky. Town
and city streets void of anyone except those who
have to go about their jobs. Anyone who could be
was down by the lake. The small island situated
on a winding, dead-end arm of the local river is
overcrowded and seems to be only a minute away
from sinking. In the centre of the islet
surrounded by fairytale grass and trees, sits the
swimming pool, its surface reflecting the blue
sky.
Lena, the blue-eyed fifty years old with the
attractive body and head of blonde hair is the
sole occupant of the pool on that summer day. The
crowd is far away. The solitary swimmer is
waiting for her husband, a sixty year old who has
decided to go for a sauna. In the heat of the day
he prefers a place where he won’t be
disturbed by anybody. His wife is hoping for the
same thing in the swimming pool. They will be
discussing the matter of solitude later on.
Madam Lena felt well in the pool. In her younger
days she had been an ace swimmer, in middle age
she kept her figure by playing tennis, squash and
cycling. She felt great. Having covered several
lengths of the pool she turned around and sat
down on the concrete bank.
From the opposite direction a head of dark hair
was swimming towards her. Breaststroke, nice try,
not too good, Lena thought. There was nothing and
nobody around and so Lena watched the head, which
approached and then lifted itself from the pool
onto to the concrete bank. A man, what else! No
niceties were exchanged, not even a pleasant
hello. The man didn’t say anything, but just
stared at Lena. The face of a man in his sixties
was not only staring but also making clear
advances, winking and indicating that they were
alone in the middle of the island and alone in
the swimming pool – well what do you think,
madam. Madam Lena, into her third marriage, knew
exactly what this was all about.
This boorish manner of establishing social
contact was not her cup of tea. However, with
nothing else to do she thought she would teach
the man a lesson in her own way, and consequently,
she started swimming to the other side of the
pool. No doubt the wooer would follow. She soon
arrived on the other side of the pool. The head
followed, rising from the water and continued
winking and making faces indicating his
intentions. Lena swam back and forth and the man
followed staying further and further behind,
evidently becoming more and more exhausted in the
process. His mouth was now wide open and he was
totally out of breath.
Not a pleasant sight, Lena thought and decided
this was the final round. Exhaustion resulted in
a navigation error and now the head, mouth wide
open, eyes staring, was swimming straight towards
her, mimicking constantly. At that moment his
dentures decided to part with his upper jaw,
leaving a gaping void for the eyes of the lady to
behold. The man was evidently out of breath.
Struggling for his dentures and his life, this
was no hero to admire. At that moment, any
possible simmering passion had been eliminated.
Lena watched the dentures sink deeper and deeper
to the bottom of the pool, while the man’s
stamina only took him to mid- depth. Lena could
easily have helped, but she decided to let the
man fight for dentures, life and lady.
Finally, he emerged with dentures in hand. Took a
last glimpse of the, would be victim, and turned
away. The battle had been lost. The breaststroke
improved and with dentures held tightly in one
fist he disappeared to the other end of the
swimming pool.
Lena’s sweet face now mimicked his previous
advances and took away her lovely face and body
with quick, trained crawl-strokes. He was no
match for this lady…this, they both
understood.
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