Time passed, school let out, and we soon settled into a routine. I was up in the morning at dawn, onto my bike, down the hill and back up—about a half-mile to swim practice. We swam for ninety minutes or so, and then I was back on my bike. Mom made pancakes most mornings. Sometimes I ate cereal. Soon enough I was back on my bike, heading back to the pool to meet friends, as often as not still wearing our Speedos. Chicken fights, Marco Polo, tag, touch the bottom of the deep end, diving contests, and “who can splash the lifeguard?” These things were our lives. We had sleepovers, got addicted to the Eddie Murphy edition of Saturday Night Live, and taught ourselves to play red box Dungeons and Dragons. We watched movies and threw ninja stars at a cut-out target that somebody set up in their garage.
We were kids.