The Swimmers

Things begin to change for the swimmers when a small crack appears on the pool floor. It doesn’t grow or change for several days, yet its outsized influence on the pool patrons sets the tone for the crack’s symbolic relevance in the story. Some swimmers avoid the crack or refuse to acknowledge it, while others gawk at it. Their conjectures about the crack’s implications range from carefree dismissal to predictions of catastrophe. Anxiety permeates the group’s psyche. Nobody is daring enough to dive to the bottom of the pool to inspect the crack. The questions the swimmers ask themselves and each other about it reflect existential questions about life: “Is the crack brief or enduring? Banal or profound? […] Why us?” (38).

According to the pool’s Aquatics Director, experts are looking into the matter. No water is leaking from the pool, and the foundation beneath them remains sound. The swimmers attempt to figure out who saw the crack first, but nobody remembers being the first to notice it. The swimmers go about their lives aboveground, but something feels off. They’re distracted by thoughts of the crack and what it means. Their loved ones begin to worry as the swimmers become distant and forgetful. They begin to view the crack as a consequence of their actions, a punishment for their sins—their petty complaining, selfishness, and procrastination—all the daily sources of human guilt and shame.

Ten days after the crack appears, various scientists weigh in with opinions and theories about what caused it and what will come of it, but they have no real answers. This uncertainty pushes two of the swimmers to leave for good. More experts get involved, but as testing rules out one theory after another, they can only confirm what did not cause the crack. Professional advice from each expert contradicts advice from other experts, leaving those affected with no real guidance. The swimmers use the pool’s suggestion box to submit their own theories and opinions. These range from “stigmata” to “a joke” to “a sign from on high that our time below is up” (44). The aboveground community’s opinions, conspiracy theories, and explanations also span the breadth of human imagination.

Amid the chaos caused by the crack, more of the swimmers opt to leave permanently, finding the activity less tranquil and enjoyable than it once was. As time goes on with no changes to the crack and no observable effects from it, anxieties begin to ease. Worries about the crack gradually dominate their attention less and less. They come to see it as a minor intrusion they’ve learned to live with. Some even view it as a source of excitement, a sign that they’re special, a blessing. By the middle of summer, the novelty of the crack has worn off. The swimmers are so accustomed to it that they no longer see it, and their attention is finally diverted by other topics and events.

When the swimmers eventually notice the crack has disappeared, they miss it. They feel guilty that they took it for granted. Their speculations about the reason for its disappearance—it got tired of them; it left for a more desirable body of water; suicide—imbue the crack with human motives. Before long, the actual cause of its disappearance—an experimental repair—fails, and the crack reappears. The swimmers are relieved but concerned because the crack seems somehow different. When three additional cracks appear, fear and paranoia return in full force. The number of cracks rises to seven, including a vertical crack. Experts still claim no immediate action is required, but the swimmers can’t help but wonder what they can or should be doing about it. As more and more swimmers leave, those who remain are afraid all the time. Rumor-fueled conspiracies help keep that fear going. In their lives outside the pool, they’re suffering, so distracted they can barely function.

In August, an announcement declares the usual 10-day closure will be extended to two weeks to drain the pool and inspect the cracks. Then the proposed length of the closure changes to three weeks, then four. Finally, an emergency town hall meeting is held, at which the Aquatics Director announces they’ve ruled out every imaginable explanation for the cracks. He says they may never know what caused them, but in an abundance of caution, the pool will be closed permanently.

Some of the swimmers feel a sense of relief because the waiting and uncertainty are finally over. Now, they feel, they can move on. Most, however, react with sadness, disappointment, and disbelief. The pool remains open for the time being, with its closure scheduled for the end of August. The swimmers try to enjoy it while they can. Their interactions are friendlier and their actions less selfish in that final month, as the dissolution of their community looms. Outside the pool, everything feels false, like a pretend version of their lives. Though the swimmers try to take the imminent closure of the pool in stride, they still experience moments of cynicism and despair.

Several of the swimmers try other pools, but they find something wrong with all of them, no matter how minor the difference. For a while, they can’t quite believe the pool will really close. Something will happen in the nick of time, they sense, to avert that outcome. They imagine how their own actions might save the pool. For example, one swimmer thinks if he abstains from alcohol, the pool won’t close. These views give way to feelings of hopelessness and a sense that they have no control over their lives.

Optimists in the group view the pool’s closure as the impetus they need to live more fully aboveground, to do all the things they’ve wanted to do but haven’t. Adherence to the rules breaks down among them as a “who cares” attitude develops. When the lifeguard blows his whistle and yells “everybody out” for the final time, the swimmers are forced to let go of a major part of their lives. Alice is the last one out of the water. Her emergence into the world above transitions the narrative into Part 3.