Monday, May 09, 2005

First Step Into Oblivion

I stood trembling beside a ladder that appeared, at least to my six year old eyes to touch the clouds.

Beside me stood a giant in red bathing trunks with white stuff on his nose and dark sunglasses urging me to begin climbing. My eyes turned toward the grandstand searching for my mother expecting her to rescue me.

To my surprise she was urging me on. Telling me not to be afraid. To climb the ladder, that nothing would happen.

I was alone.

The enormity of the task before me sank in and instinctually I grabbed hold of the ladder with my little arms and legs. I decided right than and there I was not going anywhere.

The evil white nosed giant continued in vain to plead his case that climbing the ladder was necessary and that nothing in this grand little adventure would bring me to harm. In response I turned on my six year old water works. Tears began to flow, my nose began to run and I began to wail as loud as my little lungs would allow.

Seeing that logic had failed to dissuade me from chosen course of action the red suited one grabbed my little body and began to physically carry me up the ladder. The higher he climbed the louder I screamed.

Upon reaching the top he released me, which allowed me to throw my body onto the platform and refuse to get up. My undeveloped mind should have at this point realized that I had already lost the battle and surrendered to the inevitable. Survival instincts trump logic every time though and I refused to surrender.

Exasperated by this point, the white noised giant picked me up in his huge arms and carried me to the edge. I looked back at my mom and all she did was wave. Escape was futile I realized.

I remember being told to hold on and than the two of us took that first step into oblivion.

The fall happened so fast there was not even time for my short life to pass before my eyes. One moment we were airborne the next I was coughing and spluttering as we came up for air.

The lifeguard swam me to the edge of the pool and the waiting arms of my mother.

No comments: