"But the structural core is the individual loss or confusion or break in the continuity of identity, and this has analogies to falling asleep and entering a dream world". Frye page 104

I wrote a story my dad has told me several times since I was a very little kid. In fact, I have heard it so many times I have it memorized. I thought, why keep such a great story to myself when I am in a class full of stories? So I decided to share it with you. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.

Sea Hunt

Have you ever heard of Sea Hunt? It was a show starring Lloyd Bridges as Mike Nelson, a scuba diver in the days when it was still very new. He would dive and save people’s lives and search for buried treasure. There was no job that could not be done by Mike Nelson.

I was just a little one when I asked my dad if he had ever dove in the Navy. My dad, being as full of shit as the rest of them, said, “Oh yeah! We used to dive down in Guam all the time for sea urchins and abalone and stuff.” Being the naive kid I was, I believed every word he said. My eyes were the size of golf balls as he was ranting about his experiences in the Navy. My dad was a diver, just like Mike Nelson—my hero.

We lived on a farm in South West Montana in a little white house my grandpa built. The whole house was only 800 square feet. It had two bedrooms—one for my parents, and one for me and my two brothers.

After a fresh episode of Sea Hunt one day when my dad was out farming and my brothers were off at school and my mother was taking her usual nap, I took the opportunity to do my usual snooping. And I came across the most amazing thing. My heart jumped when I saw my dad’s scuba tank! He wasn’t joking! Right there in front of me was my dad’s tank. It had the nozzle and everything. The only thing it was missing was a harness.

I ran down to the bar as fast as I could and grabbed me some baling twine. I rigged up the best harness and attached it to the tank.

What does a little kid do with a scuba tank once it is all harnessed up?

Bath time!

I ran to the bathroom of the little white house and started filling the tub. I found my older brother’s long yellow rain jacket I used for a wet suit, which was three sizes too big for me, and got my flippers and goggles on.

I was going to lie down in the tub and watch it bubble like Lloyd Bridges.

The bath was finally ready and I was all suited up. I bent over to grab a towel off the floor and I heard a CLANK.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

This god-awful noise was right by my left ear and I couldn’t hear anything but the sound of the machine and the rapid beating of my heart. What did I do wrong?!

It turns out, I had a fire extinguisher on my back. White powder was flying all over the room and I could hardly breathe. What else does a little kid do when she is scared?

Run to Mom!

My poor mother was sound asleep when I came storming through the door. There was white powder flying all over the walls. I had a quarter inch of tears in my facemask. My flippers made it a challenge to run. My three-times-too-big “wet suit” was getting caught on obstacles and flying all around. I don’t remember what was louder: the white powder ejecting from the tank or my deep sobs.

My mother was awoken so abruptly just as the air and the powder was dissipating out of the big red tank. Her hair seamed to turn gray before my eyes.

I spent the next few days cleaning up all the yellow and white powder off the walls, and in the carpet, and in my ears. Looking back, Mike Nelson would have been so proud at my bravery.