When I was a kid the only thing that could tear me away from a Playstation controller was the siren song of the local swimming pool. It defined summertime, especially in a small town like Valley, Nebraska. There were little leagues, summer school activities, but for a young boy with no real athletic talent, the freedom of the water was all the activity I needed. I couldn’t hit a baseball, I fumbled all kinds of catches, and I just wasn’t fast enough for basketball. In the pool though, I was a real fish. One of these summer days my younger sister, Audra, and I were left home alone while my mom took our younger brother to work with her and the two eldest had to take a class with our step-father. I was busy running through Crash Bandicoot 3: Warped when Audra came whining into my ear with that piercing shriek she used to get her way. I gathered our personal pool towels and sunscreen into a plastic laundry container that was shaped a