Help
The door to the steam room opened next to the pool. A lifeguard saw me, and must have realized I
was a little shaky. He asked if I was OK.
“I’m fine,” I said, feeling like I was going to topple face
first into the pool.
“You sure?” he asked. “Do you need a bottle of water?”
I started to say no, even though a bottle of water was
exactly what I needed. Accepting that bottle seemed like asking for help.
I hated asking for help no matter how much I needed it. I
could picture myself waking up early near the end of an operation and telling
the surgeon just to leave the needle and thread. “I can close the incision,
Doc. You probably have things to do.”
Even though I knew I was being irrational, I had this sense
being helped made me a smaller person.
“OK,” I said. He
pulled a bottle from the cooler at his feet. I sat on a bench, drank the water,
and discovered I wasn’t any smaller, my feet still touched the floor.
Today I will accept help.
Fawlty Showers 2
is a work of fiction. Any similarity between the characters and anyone you
might know is purely coincidental.
Other works by Ken Montrose are available at:
•
https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001K8MG0S
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