Friday, October 15, 2010

The Littlest Snorkler

I never liked the water all that much, to tell the truth. I avoided swimming lessons like the Plague. I showered instead of bathed. Just the idea of immersing myself in water was... well, I dunno... scary. No idea why. It just was.

Then I got married, and Brenda -- my fiancée -- says, "Y'know, about the honeymoon, I've always wanted to go to the Caribbean. Can we do that?" I swallowed hard for about five minutes before finally stammering, "Sure." I was hoping for some place like the Rockies, to tell the truth. Or Nevada. Maybe even the Sahara.

But not the Caribbean.

Still, I wanted to make her happy, so I sucked it up, and the day after the wedding, we were on a plane headed to St. Croix. The hotel suite overlooked the water, but I'd only allow myself out there at night, when I couldnt see it. Brenda, of course, wanted to have breakfast out there on the damn balcony, and I finally figured out that if I positioned myself with my back to the railing, I'd be okay. During the day. I'd lay on the beach with my eyes slammed shut so tight you'd need a crowbar to open them while Brenda played in the water. She'd kid me about what a fuddy-duddy I was, and "what happened to the guy who promised me long walks on the beach?" But she never really pushed the issue that much, so I thought maybe I'd get out of this one kinda easy.

Then she decides she wants to go snorkeling. And she wants me to go with her. "It'll be pretty! They'll take our picture together under water!" Trying not to make my shaking too obvious, I sucked it up once more and said, "Sure."

The guide told us the water we were going in wasnt all that deep, maybe three or four feet, and I thought to myself, Okay, I handle that. So in the water we go --

-- and terror hit me like a grand piano from a fifth floor window. Brenda kept asking me if I was all right, and I just told her I was a little cold, but I'd get used to it soon enough, and not to worry. The guide starts pointing out fish and plants and rocks and the remains of "buried treasure" put there, no doubt, to keep the tourists happy. But I could barely hear his radio through the earbuds because I was so damn frightened. I knew I was going to drown! This water was a hundred feet deep, not four or five, because isnt it true that under water things look a lot closer??? And that little fish was actually a far-off shark just waiting to take my leg home as some kind of aquatic drive-through, because isnt it true that under water things look a lot farther away??? And that plant -- that wasnt a plant after all, but... but... a nest of electric eels!, all ready to reach out and zap me into unconsciousness!!! And not only that, but now I couldnt breathe!! And there was no way I was going to be able to swim the eighty or ninety feet separating me from the surface -- I was going to die out there! Now frantic with fear, I slammed my feet on the sand and raised my head --

-- and the sunshine cascaded on me like warm gold.

I was safe. Thank the gods, I was safe.

And there was Brenda, her head above the water as well, laughing and smiling. "Isnt this great?"

I nodded with as much of a smile as I could command.

"I hear they have deep sea diving tomorrow!" she added. "Can we do that? Please??"

I just looked at her with that same forced smile. "Sure."