Friday, June 28, 2013

Death By Water Slide

When I was in grade one our class went to the water slides. It was a big year end wrap up party. I had never been to the water slides before. They were big and impressive, especially to the little 6 year old version of me. Especially because I couldn't swim. I spent most of the day in the shallow end of the pool and the hot tub. I avoided the deep end of the swimming pool, but most importantly, I avoided the water slides. I didn't know how deep the water was but I was certain that it was deeper than I was tall. If I went on the water slides I would die. I knew that for sure.

Somehow, while I sitting in the hot tub, a couple friends managed to find me. It was time to go back to school soon and they wanted to ride the slides one more time. I didn't want to go, but the next thing I knew I was walking with them on the path to the water slides. How did that happen? The water slides loomed in front of me. I know this probably couldn't have happened in real life, but I'm relatively certain the water slides grew taller as we approached. I began to walk slower, but I couldn't stop. I was caught in the gravity inducing pull of the slides now. There was no going back. I was walking towards my death, or so I thought.

My feet got heavier as I began walking up the ramp. My legs started shaking. I started counting my steps. Maybe if I took long enough we'd have to leave before I made it to the top. Maybe. Why is so hot out? Why is the ramp so cold? Oh, its wet. That's why. Why are these other kids racing to the top? Are they crazy? If I hocked a loogie from the top how long would it take to hit the ground? Did it just get hotter out? How did I get to the top so soon?

The line moved slowly, but not slow enough. I dutifully ambled towards my demise. Death by water slide. I am not sure why I didn't just turned around and go back. I knew it was an option. Maybe it was peer pressure or the fear of being made fun of. In my undeveloped, six year old mind, death was preferable to the fate of being known as the kid who was scared to go on the water slide. Suddenly, I was next.

The "life guard" had me wait at the top for a couple seconds. Maybe it was so I could say my last words, think back on my short life, or beg for a reprieve. Too late. He waved me through. And I jumped to my doom. The ride down the slide was not what I thought it would be. It was fast. It was wet. There were a lot of turns and drops. I couldn't say I enjoyed it at the time, but I could understand how other people might. Perhaps if I wasn't contemplating the after life I may have found it a little more fun in the present.

I started formulating my survival plan. I knew if the slide launched me into the deep pool that waited for me at the bottom I was going to drown for sure. My best chance to live was to grab on to the edge of the pool immediately after I hit the water. I could hold on to the edge and pull myself out no matter how deep the pool was. But it was not to be. The current launched me into the deep. I didn't have a chance. So I stood up. And walked out of the water. Wow. I was alive! That was awesome! I was immortal! I couldn't believe I had avoided that slide for most of the day when I could have been riding it all along.

The preceding was a true story, as I remember it anyway. It's a reasonable allegory for my life. I've hopped on so many "water slides" over the last 3 years. My life is a veritable water park. There's still a lot slides left to conquer. I've tried a few baby versions of the big ones. I may as well slay the giants. I know that I'm not going to die now, no matter how it feels at the time. Look out water park. This immortal is back and those slides aren't so imposing any more.


1 comment:

Curtis said...

The monster under the bed or in the closet grows more frightening the longer we avoid it, but when we shine the light on it and move toward it we often wonder why we were afraid of it for so long. 30 years is a long time, 40 is longer.