Life With Mother Superior Read Online Free Page A

would never surface again. Instead of heading toward the center of the pool and then coming up, I steered a perfect course into one of the corners. This delighted everyone in the class. As I kept bumping into the corner—it seemed to me that I was under water light-years—and thinking I had completed the length of the pool, I was astonished finally to come up directly under Miss Connelly’s swim shoes from where I had just departed.
    I surfaced much like a panicking baby elephant, splashing everyone near me. Miss Connelly had already yelled for the long “lifesaving” pole, which would have been a crushing blow to my ego. Once I got my breath I set out for the opposite end of the pool. I was determined to swim it, since it was the last time I ever wanted to get wet. By the time I reached the end of the pool and started back, there was a general tendency to bet on me. I had to be helped up the ladder and I fell exhausted onto the tile floor. Nevertheless, the test was that you swam the length of the pool and dived into it. I had, through some kind of super courage, done both—not well—but I had completed the first part of the test.
    Mary’s turn followed soon. She asked Miss Connelly if the water was cold and that really began the nightmare. Her dive resembled nothing more than that of an acrobat who’d lost hold of the trapeze. She hit the water with a resounding smash, which made every one utter “Oooooh!”—at which point she just sank to the bottom and stayed there. Miss Connelly was in the water in a minute and I witnessed my first actual and serious lifesaving event. By the time Miss C. dragged up her inert body the entire class was on her team.
    “Oh, let her pass, Miss Connelly, she’s just afraid of water terribly,” they cried and though Miss Con nelly was tender and loving as Mary returned a good portion of the pool, she said, “Well, we’ll practice, won’t we?”
    My final test, the lifesaving test, was called and I watched Ramona Sapper blanch when she realized I was to be her lifesaver. Ramona swam, as she did every thing else, with quiet perseverance. The idea was for her to go out in the middle of the pool and pretend she was drowning. And I was to jump in this time (since the class was almost over, Miss Connelly felt Ramona might well drown if I got in the corner again) and swim out and save her. The whole idea tickled me since Ramona had little faith in me. The charade started and I hit the water—sank immediately to the bottom, and came up choking and spitting and drown ing. I pulled myself together arid started toward her, finally reaching her with such relief that I pulled her right down to the bottom of the pool. Ramona quickly surfaced and started swimming with me.
    “Just keep paddling,” she whispered, “and hold me under the chin. I’ll float. Just get yourself back.” I could hardly believe this was the stiff-necked Ramona who would share her secret homework—which was always one hundred per cent correct—with no one. I did what she told me and although Ramona must have swallowed a good bit of the pool because of me, I did drag her to home base.
    Miss Connelly, never one to shower compliments on a student, gave me the lowest mark she could—a C minus, but I received my credit in swimming.
    Mary tried all week to qualify for the swimming test, but she simply couldn’t stay up in water and Miss Connelly turned in an F. So, the next semester Mary had to take two gymnasium periods and she picked Interpretive Dancing and golf. I took golf with her. She carried her clubs and balls in a large A & P paper sack—needless to say, the local golf club people charged us for tearing up the turf to bits. Mary flunked Interpretive Dancing and got a D in golf. The follow ing semester, she had to take three gymnasium periods. One had to have eight credits in gym to get a diploma and it was now up to Sister Registrar to work out a schedule that could cope with this number of active sports