Off the Deep-End II
I’m not ready, but with every step forward of my quivering legs, that fact matters less and less. I have decided I’m going to dive into this death pool even if it kills me. I am thoroughly convinced it will kill me. Baywatch, having become equal parts life coach and spiritual advisor as we inch ahead, checks on me periodically with words of encouragement. When he sees they aren’t helping, he tries to convince me to leave the line. “Little Dude,” he says, “you don’t have to jump. You know that right?” “Yes, I do.” I reply defiantly. “You do? Why?” I think about the question and remember a line my brother’s little league baseball coach screamed to his players during every practice when he believed they weren’t putting their best effort into each play. I give this answer to Baywatch. “Well, because you gotta commit.” I leave out the part about a family trip taken to Wild Water Kingdom, a water park in Pennsylvania, a year ago. There, on a day not much different tha...