Last Thursday, I was at the pool at 6 AM. Still no Johnny in sight.

And no sight to speak of at all in the pool. But I hadn’t gotten myself out of bed at 5:30 AM, only to get back in it – for the second day in a row.

I forced myself to take deep breaths and suck it up – but not to swallow.

I told myself to think of the pool as a wild, woodland lake. Green and moss-covered. Choked in chlorine.

Fine. I pretended I was a wild, woodland nymph taking a dip in Lake Issyk Kul in Kyrgyzstan. The part that is being used by the Soviets for naval testing.

I imagined myself a monster, stealthily rising from the deep, gliding through the eerie, emerald glow of a nuclear wasteland…

I told him I needed more coaching. He agreed to ten more sessions till I leave for Siargao on May 28.

Yesterday morning, he was finally there. And, although he didn’t get into the water with me as he had promised, he did stay by the pool to watch and correct my mistakes.

This morning, I nudged awake a figure underneath a blanket on one of the pool lounges. It wasn’t Johnny. He hadn’t spent the night there, the caretaker informed me. I was pretty sure that I had been stood up again, till Johnny revved up on his motorbike, exactly at 6 AM, just as I was slipping into What Lies Beneath.

Today, I was more relaxed in the radioactive sludge and, according to Johnny, am doing much better. I just need to practice more.

So, yes, I’m doing this everyday till I leave for Siargao.

And my hair turns green.

I’m pretty sure I can power up the blender back at the apartment if I tried.