Fight Song A Novel - By Joshua Mohr Page 0,66

room. It’s locked. Of course. They’ve shut down for the evening. He knocks on it. Nobody answers. Duh. He slams his shoulder into it. Twice. Four times. Six.

Why is breaking down doors so easy on television? That’s going to bruise.

He kicks it. He moves and tries the door to the women’s locker room, too. No luck. No shoulder slams. No kicks. Think. Coffen has little time. She looked so pale. No choice but to try and lure Gotthorm to invite Bob inside. So he runs to the huge window. So he knocks on it. So he waves at Gotthorm. The judge looks over. Gotthorm only shakes his head. Gotthorm only keeps talking to Jane. Coffen only keeps knocking. What can he do? What options are there? He’s trying to bring Jane her humanness. He has to help her. Jane pulls her swim cap off. It drifts in the water like a small octopus. Reminds Coffen of their first date. Their first online date. In the chat room. In the Italian restaurant. Jane said a two-ton squid escaped the zoo. It lived under her bed. She fed it a steady diet of saltwater taffy. Bob fell in love with her right then. Wanted to kiss her imagination right on the mouth. Imaginations should have mouths. Imaginations should have great big puckering lips. Imaginations should sit on people’s shoulders like mousy Schumann had been sitting on Bob’s. Coffen needs to get inside. Needs to tell Jane she’s not a fish. Needs to tell Jane that she’s a gorgeous woman. He should mention he quit his job. But not until later. Not until she’s broken the record. After that the job thing won’t be so bad, maybe. The doors are locked. He’s knocking on the window and Gotthorm and the judge don’t move to let him in. Her swim cap starts to sink. Bob can’t see Jane’s face and he knocks harder. She said that every squid who ever escaped the zoo after that first one always came to her house. Word travels fast with squid. Everybody knows that. Nobody’s going to help Bob get in there. This is going to be a Bob-only enterprise if entering the indoor poolroom is his chief pursuit. Coffen runs back to the outdoor deck. Coffen is getting good at throwing things. Ask that flowerpot. He is no longer afraid of consequences born from the sound of shattering.

Coffen says, “Bob is me.”

He doesn’t throw the chaise lounge at the window so much as he uses it as a kind of battering ram and it works. The window explodes. The judge’s face is sort of scared. He clutches the clipboard to his chest like it’s a crying baby. Gotthorm’s face is not scared so much but wearing a wondrous What the hell? Bob can no longer see the sinking swim cap. Bob climbs through the busted window. Bob is still fully clothed. Bob is still wearing shoes. There are problems with his plan. He is saying to the judge, “Will she be disqualified if I enter the water but I don’t touch her or interfere in any way?” and the judge is saying, “Who are you?” and Gotthorm is saying, “That is her husband,” and the judge is saying, “What’s wrong with using the door?” and Gotthorm is saying, “What are you doing?” and Coffen is saying to the judge, “Can I get in the pool so long as I don’t physically aid her?” and the judge nods, Sure, do it, go ahead, you window-shatterer.

So:

Fully clothed Bob Coffen leaps into the water. About twenty feet away from his wife. Jane is really struggling. Bob swims over, not getting too close. Judges probably love to issue disqualifications and Coffen won’t give the smug prick the satisfaction. Her swim cap is flat on the bottom of the pool. Bob is treading water maybe ten feet away from her now.

He says, “Jane, it’s me, Bob. You’re almost there. You almost have the record. You can do it. I know you can do it. Don’t give up now.”

Jane doesn’t say anything. She keeps her head above the surface. But barely. Her strokes are arrhythmic, all over the place.

Bob says, “You’re only about four hours away from the record.”

The judge says, “Five hours, eleven minutes.”

Bob says, “You’re only five hours and eleven minutes away from the record.”

Jane doesn’t say a word.

Bob says, “Do you remember a two-ton squid that escaped from the zoo? You told me that it snuck in your bedroom window