Free Swim to Me by Betsy Carter

thought he would like. Once, she boughthim a card with a picture of a sea turtle:
There’s a turtle in the Springs that I’ve nicknamed Westie. Every time I swim he comes around. I think he knows me.
    Whenever she ushered, she would search the theater for a family that might be hers. Even when she swam, if she got really close to the glass, she could make out the figures in the first two rows of the audience. A couple of times, she saw a man with a navy blue cap and each time, she could have sworn it was her father. Then the man would stand up and she’d see that he was bent over or very tall, or she’d notice that he had a large dog at his feet. All men made her wary, even the ones who might have been her father.
    In the Bronx, Delores had never been on a real date with a boy. She’d never played a kissing game at a party. Here, men—not even boys—said strange things to her. After the show, when she’d be available to pose for pictures in her mermaid outfit, they’d lean in and whisper things to her: “I sure would like a piece of that tail,” or “Meet me for a beer when the park closes, eh?” They’d sometimes say these things within earshot of their wives and children.
    Late one afternoon, she swam with Adrienne, Scary Sheila, and Molly in “Carnival in Rio.” Her costume was a low-cut blouse with green and orange ruffles and the bottom half of a two-piece swimsuit. After they’d done a Ferris wheel, where they’d grip their feet onto each other’s neck and spin around, she could see a man running toward the stage. He put his mouth on the glass and started licking it, right in front of her. One of the ushers tried to pull him away, but he shoved her away and kept doing it. Delores could see the slippery pinkness of his tongue pressed up against the glass. It was disgusting and it made her lose her concentration and forget to control her breathing. She started to rise to the surface, away from the others. Thelma Foote, who was directing the show, as always,from an underwater booth, got on her microphone and shouted urgently: “Delores Taurus, you need to equalize. Delores Taurus, you need to equalize.”
    She was still shaking a half hour later as she and Molly walked back to the dorm together. She told Molly about the man with the tongue. Molly just waved her hand. “That stuff happens all the time,” she said. “Let’s just put it this way. You’re lucky it was his tongue and nothing else.”
    This was the kind of thing Delores would have usually told Otto, but Otto was packed away under her bed. She and Molly were the first to get back to the dorm, where they sat on their beds in silence. Delores longed to feel the reassurance of Otto in her hand, to see his cool ceramic head bobbing around like a fish that’s been hooked.
    â€œYou still depressed about the guy with the tongue?”
    â€œNot him,” said Delores. She studied Molly’s eager face, and Molly smiled one of her moonbeam smiles. “When you were a kid, did you ever have an imaginary friend, someone you talked to when you couldn’t talk to anyone else?” Delores asked, without waiting for an answer. “I still do.”
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œHere, I’ll show you,” she said, reaching under her bed and pulling out her suitcase. As she unsnapped the latch, Otto’s sad, bejeweled head popped up. Molly started to laugh.
    â€œWhat?” Delores asked, already regretting what she’d done.
    â€œThat’s a funny-looking thing.” Molly looked up at Delores. “Oh. Is that him?”
    â€œI know. He looks like a hard-boiled egg. But he was the only one in my house I could talk to. Now I never get to see him. I mean, how would it look if anyone caught Delores Taurus talking to a puppet?”
    â€œYou’re lucky you had him.” Molly looked around the room. It was still empty. “Go