Call me 'Old Man'

As I sit at the edge of the U Penn pool, earning my free membership, I try to keep my mind alert, despite a still body and fixed gaze. I find more creative ways to combat the monotony of watching the scantily clad do laps. I recount the swimmers, unnecessarily dividing them into number of men and women, and devising overcomplicated systems of remembering the steadily growing amounts. I text a beloved friend, and receive a reply. I plan the rest of my day, my week, month, year...in each case setting incremental goals to make the insurmountable seem manageable.
But today, amidst the meditative supervision, a rather unexpected event occurs. A stranger swimming in lane one summons me, pronouncing my name with an arresting familiarity.
"Yes sir?"
"Could you please support me as I exit the pool?" he respectfully requests in accented English. I can't place it though. Southeastern Europe? Middle Eastern?
I meet him at the steps and hold his large, wrinkled hand for the duration of his climb. When he is securely on the deck, he smooths his white wiry hair, dramatic against his tanned skin. He is short, maybe 5'5". And as I look down at him, I notice the square ends of his claw-like toenails, and worry that this old man lives alone. I stand near to him as he hobbles down the pool.
"Thank you Amir. I'm going to use the sauna for five minutes."
"Oh ok."
"So please help me again then. When I sit it is difficult to get up."
"Oh ok," I repeat. The inflection in my voice conveys my understanding. "So in five minutes then."
"Yes please. Don't forget. If you forget..." He finishes the sentence by cutting the air before him horizontally with his hand. The sauna warning springs to mind, recommending at 160 degrees to take a break every 10 minutes, and use no longer than 30 minutes.
It is 12:54 when I return to my guarding post. By 12:59 I have checked my watch 15 times. I find the old man on his back, eyes closed.
"Hello?" I whisper.
"Yes, support my back please," he says while extending his hand, which I take quickly.
With great effort, he sits upright and then rests. I am beginning to sweat, but dare not leave. Finally, outside in the refreshingly humid 84 degrees, I escort him to the exit.
"I used to do everything you know," he says matter-of-factly. "Soccer, basketball, tennis, track, but now all I can do is swim."
"Oh yeah? I play those sports."
"Yes, well thank you again Amir."
"Your welcome. What is your name?"
"You can call me 'Old Man', but my name is Rauf."
"Really? my middle name is Rauf. Rauf meaning the Compassionate?"
"Indeed!" And he hobbles away, smiling.