A Ten-Year-Old's Vision

           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 bit like a suitcase, perfect for short trips to the pool.  It also had plenty of room for goggles, diving toys, and had water noodles sticking out of the top.

            Our house was a straight shot to the pool from the eastern part of town.  The street was a combination of the newer parts of town and the older.  Half of it was paved and nice, but the closer you got to the park the more the street turned into an old gravel road.  The park itself was surrounded by great big trees on all sides and contained a vast picnic area and a large playground with all the classic equipment for outdoor fun, a giant slide, jungle gym, swings, monkey bars, and the merry-go-round, and at the center of it all at the top of the central hill stood the pool.  It was hardly Olympic regulation, but perfect for the summer swimmers in a small town.  The pool started at three feet deep and extended into the twelve foot fathoms of the diving area. 

            We had made it right before it got busy, around 1:00 after everyone had lunch and waited the appropriate thirty minutes to prevent cramping.  Our favorite spot in the corner with the two lawn chairs and table was open so we spread out our tables to stake our claim, Barbie for her, and Star Wars for me.  It always made me laugh to see the smiling face of Barbie right next to Darth Maul’s terrifying leer. 

            The next two hours found the two of us enjoying the refreshing splashing of the pool water.  I was more than a fish that day, I was a crazed dolphin, bobbing and weaving around other pool-goers surfacing for a second to catch my breath before I once again dove under and breast stroked my way across the pool. 

            During one of my periodic breaches to the surface, I noticed a stray cloud had covered up the sun.  As I looked off into the distance, I noticed that this cloud was merely the tip of a huge wall of black and gray that had suddenly appeared on the horizon where not five minutes ago there was nothing but blue and birds.  I got out of the pool and over to our table to put on my glasses and get a better look.  No ifs ands or buts, there was a storm a-brewin.

            I panicked.  Storms were one of those uncontrollable things that terrified me as a kid.  We had seen our share of damages from severe weather, and while I couldn’t recall seeing anything other than downed trees, every time we passed some of Mother Nature’s carnage, my mom would allude to the dangers that such storms presented.  I would hear horror stories of downed power lines and houses that had caved in.  The mere possibility had me so worried that I decided that playtime was over. I took my glasses back off and jumped into the shallow end to grab my little sister.

            I helped her out of the pool and we started bundling everything together into the pool basket.  As soon as I was sure everything was packed we headed for home, past the park, past the gravel road, back onto the pavement, and finally into our yard just as the first tell-tale drops began falling and the sky turned gloomy and gray.  I dropped the basket, took off my sandals, and started to pull of my wet t-shirt when I noticed that I didn’t have to be careful with my glasses falling off while I pulled it over my head.  My glasses weren’t there.  My stomach sank and I rushed to the basket digging through hoping I had put them in there in my hurry.  Thunder cracked outside and lightning flashed across the sky. My glasses were nowhere to be found.  I franticly started to retrace my steps in my head.  Did I leave them on when I jumped back in?  Are they floating now in the rippling pool water?  No, I remember taking them back off and leaving them on the ta- THE TABLE.

            I ran back down the street shoe and shirtless.  There was no time for Velcro buckles and I’d just get my shirt wetter.  I ran down the street as the rain picked up and the wind howled around me.  I wasn’t thinking too clearly, but what could be expected from a ten-year-old’sear old logic, stuck in the moment, and at that moment if I didn’t get my glasses back my parents would definitely kill me. 

            I made it back to the pool just as the last lifeguard was preparing to leave and I begged and pleaded to be let back in for one quick minute.  She reluctantly opened the gate as the wind howled around us.  I ignored the “no running” sign and ran to the table we had been parked at only 20 minutes before, when the sun was still shining and I was soaked by choice.

            Despite the sheets of rain and hail, I put my glasses on.  I wasn’t losing them again.  I rounded the corner of our street and saw Audra sitting outside on the stoop waiting for me.

            After some older brother style scolding we finally got out of the rain and into some dry clothes, plopped in front of a movie.  Right when I thought the day had been salvaged by Mike Myers’ comedy the sirens started.  I put us in the downstairs laundry room and under my mattress from the next room.  What would normally be a great fort building session had lost its charm in the impending doom of a tornado from a child’s perspective. 

            “Look,” said Audra as she pointed toward the window.  The rain was still coming down, but rays of sunshine started streaming through the clouds.  I sighed with relief, the worst was already over.  We were safe, and I’d beaten the storm.  Despite an initial hiccup my parents wouldn’t be any the wiser about my accidental little sister abandonment.  All in all, that roller coaster of a day turned into a big win for putting middle kid over on the older brother side of the sibling hierarchy.