Three Chords for the Lifeguard

Uri worked the night shift at the town pool. The pool closed to the public at nine. After that, only a few swimmers booked a private hour. Uri sat in the tall white chair and watched the water.

It was a quiet job. He liked it that way.

On his first night, he found a guitar in the lifeguard chair. It was old. The wood had deep scratches, and the strings were dull. On the back, someone carved a name with a knife. The letters were rough and small.

The guitar was wet. Water ran from the bottom and dripped on the floor.

Uri dried it with a towel. He put it in the office. The next night, it was back in the chair, wet again.

He tried it five more times. The guitar always came back. After a week, he stopped moving it. He just sat next to it, and it dripped on the floor.

"I cannot play," he told it one night. "I am sorry. I only know how to swim."

The guitar said nothing. But a string made a low sound. It was as if a hand touched it.

At the start of the second week, a new swimmer came. His name was Oded. He was tall and thin, about forty years old. He held a small bag in front of him with both hands.

"I booked the late hour," he said. "Alone, please. I am a little shy about this."

"No problem," said Uri. "Can you swim at all?"

"Never." Oded looked at the water. "My friends think I can swim. I told them a lie ten years ago. Now they want to go on holiday by the sea."

Uri smiled. "Then we have a lot of work."

They started in the shallow end. Uri showed Oded how to hold the wall. He showed him how to breathe out under water. Then he showed him how to lie flat. Oded was nervous. His arms shook. But he listened to everything.

After twenty minutes, he could float for three seconds.

"Three seconds!" he said. He stood up and wiped his face. "That is good, yes?"

"It is very good. Tomorrow, five seconds."

Then Oded saw the guitar. It stood in the chair, wet and dark. His face changed.

"Who owns that?" he asked.

"I do not know. It comes back every night. I cannot stop it."

Oded walked slowly to the chair. He did not touch the guitar. He bent down and looked at the name on the back.

"Can I turn it around?" he asked.

"Of course."

Oded lifted the guitar. He turned it over with both hands. He read the name for a long time. Then he made a small noise.

"What does it say?" Uri asked.

"Nothing important." Oded gave a quick laugh. "I knew a boy with that name. A long time ago. He loved the water. Do you play?"

"Not at all."

"But it is here on your chair every night," Oded said. "That is strange. A guitar wants to be played."

"It is only a thing," said Uri.

"No." Oded shook his head. He held the guitar against his chest. His fingers moved to the neck without any thought. "No, I think it wants something."

He sat on the edge of the pool. His feet were in the water. The guitar looked small in his hands. He pressed his fingers on the neck and played one soft chord.

The sound was soft, but clear. It filled the whole hall, from the diving board to the roof.

"You play!" Uri said.

"A little. I stopped when I was young." Oded looked down at his hands. "He was my best friend. After that day, I did not touch a guitar. I did not touch water, either." He stopped. "This is the first time in twenty years. I do not know why my hands remember."

Uri sat next to him. "Can you teach me?"

Oded stared at him. "You want to learn?"

"Yes. I do." Uri felt strange saying it. "The guitar comes to me every night. Maybe it wants me to play, not you. I teach swimming. I do not teach songs. But I can learn."

Oded smiled for the first time that evening. "Then we help each other. You teach me the water. I teach you three chords."

"Three?"

"Three is enough for many songs." He passed the guitar to Uri. "Put your fingers here. Not so hard. The strings are not your enemy."

Uri held the guitar. It was heavier than he thought. The wood was wet and cold. He put his fingers on the strings, as Oded showed him.

The first sound was terrible. Oded laughed so loudly that the echo came back from the walls.

"Again," he said. "Slower."

They sat there for an hour. Uri played the first chord, then the second. His fingers hurt. Oded corrected him, and showed him again, and corrected him again. At the end, Uri played three chords in a row. He made no mistake.

It was not music. But it was close to music.

"That was good," Oded said. "You learn fast."

"I had a good teacher."

They sat in the quiet for a while. The water in the pool was perfectly still. The lights shone on the surface.

Then something happened in the deep end. Uri saw it first. A single circle moved across the water. It went from the middle to the wall. Then another, and another. Slow, even circles, like someone tapping the floor of the pool.

Tap. Tap. Tap. In time with the three chords.

"Do you see that?" he whispered.

"I see it," said Oded.

Neither of them moved. The circles grew wider and then faded.

Oded looked at the guitar in Uri's hands. He looked at the name carved on the back. His hand moved toward it, and stopped.

"The last letter is still wet," he said quietly. "Did you notice? The others are dry."

Uri turned the guitar over. It was true. All the letters were dry and pale. But the last one shone in the light. It looked new, as if someone cut it a minute ago.