Episode 40: Cavern Pool

Original air date: 28 Feb 2026.

On the last Saturday in February, you walk into the Natatorium at Lucretia Mott College to go winter swimming. The cavern pool is open every Saturday all winter to the entire town, for free. The humid smell of chlorine greets you immediately as you open the fogged-over glass doors, leaving behind the watchful owls on the ridge above you. The work-study kid at the front desk smiles at you as your eyes adjust to the bright lights inside. You feel the nubby fabric of your beach towel, slung over your shoulder, as you pause in the entrance area for a gathering breath.

When you enter the pool from the locker room, your eyes widen at the sight before you. On the near side, the cavern pool looks like every other swimming pool you’ve ever seen. It has rectangular walls, lane markers, and depth numbers on tiles embedded in the concrete deck. But the far side of the pool opens into a huge irregular space, beneath the curved and rocky natural roof of the cavern. The water stretches out into the distance, lit from within, and there is a single rope line marking the edge of where people can safely swim. Beyond that line, a large undersea robot floats on the surface of the water, its yellow skin shining in the lights.

“Oh hey, You,” someone says from behind you, and you turn to see Joshua and Kerri, just out of the locker room themselves. Joshua says, “Glad you could make it. Ready to swim?”

You say, “Yes. I haven’t been able to take many walks this winter. I’m ready to move.”

Joshua asks you, “Laps or fun?”

Kerri tells him, “Joshua, laps are fun. Not all of us brought a unicorn float to the pool.”

You tell them both, “Laps, I think. At least to start.”

Joshua thrusts his chin in the air and says, “Well, my uni-stallion awaits me, out in the deep. Enjoy your fun laps.” He tosses his towel on a lounge chair, and jumps into the pool with a running start, earning himself a stern whistle from the lifeguard.

You and Kerri walk over to the ladder on the edge of the pool, and you lower yourself into the comfortably warm water. You pull your goggles down over your eyes, and worm your way under a couple of lane markers until you find open space. Slowly, deliberately, you start swimming freestyle toward the other end of the pool. You feel the resistance of the water against your body, as the muscles in your arms and legs find their rhythm. When you complete your first full lap, you pull up against the wall, the texture of the concrete edge rough and pebbly beneath your fingers. You watch the kids in the next lane propel themselves through the water on their kickboards, and you take a deep breath.

Time passes like this for a while, as you travel in no rush back and forth down the length of the pool, immersing yourself in the experience. You log a few laps of backstroke, looking up at the bright humming lights fixed to the cavern roof, and beyond them, the jagged surface of the limestone, eroded by this water over thousands of years. When you reach the end of yet another lap, Kerri is there waiting for you. She asks, “Are you hungry, by any chance? There’s a buffet upstairs.”

You say, “Yes, now that you mention it. I do believe I’ve worked up a hunger.”

The two of you find your towels and sandals, and Kerri wraps her hair in a second towel as you walk through a side door and climb the staircase within. You emerge in a large conference room overlooking the pool, filled mostly with parents in street clothes who are hanging out while their kids swim. Along the wall farthest from the windows is a huge spread of breakfast for dinner, with chafing dishes of pancakes, waffles, eggs, and potatoes. There is a toast and bagel station, and huge bowls of fresh cut fruit.

Kerri motions over toward the buffet, and tells you, “The owner of the Flapjack Foundry was a varsity swimmer in college. She puts this on for free, every weekend there’s winter swimming.”

You say, “That’s so generous.”

As Kerri fills a plate, she replies, “And delicious.”

The two of you sit down at an open round table, and you take in your colorful plate of eggs, potatoes, and fruit set before you. You admire your wrinkly fingers before letting them rest in your lap for a moment. You close your eyes, feeling gratitude for this meal and this community, as you take an easy breath.

With your eyes still closed, you hear someone say, “Mind if we join you?”

Kerri says, “Of course,” and you open your eyes to see Larry and Darryl sitting down. Both of them have wild hair from toweling off after their swim.

Darryl says, “Hello again, You. How was your pool time?”

You tell him, “It was pretty great. How about yours?”

He shakes his head vigorously, pressing his towel to his ear, as he says, “It was lovely. I’m just a little waterlogged now.”

You smile in sympathy at him, as you spear a fresh strawberry on your plate and lift it to your mouth. When you take a bite, you discover it is bracingly cold, slightly tart, and just on the perfect edge between firm and soft. You sigh happily and immediately look down at your plate for another one.

Larry asks Kerri, “Are you working the open house next weekend?”

She brightens as she says, “I am,” and then snaps her fingers as she points at you. “The model railroad club! You need to come visit. Our open house is next weekend. Will you come?”

You say, “Yes, for sure. I love trains.”

Kerri and Larry say in unison, “Cool,” and then Larry says, “Pickle jinx.”

Darryl looks up from his plate and says, “Is that still a thing?”

Larry looks at his brother with mirthful eyes and says, “You and I just had a splash fight in the pool where we first learned how to swim. Pickle jinx is definitely still a thing.”