THE DIVING BOARD By Rick Andersen Joan snuck up behind me while I was standing on the diving board calculating wind direction and speed to determine the kind of dive I should execute. She was just gonna tickle me she says. Give you a little encouragement. I had to wonder about Joan s true motives. And her timing. What s the rush? You don t want me to land in something you might later regret seeing me covered with do you? See here? I pointed at a pair of alligator eyes that were gliding through the water and fast approaching a little yellow duck that was watching two coupling dragon flies that were trying to fly in opposite directions and going nowhere. Look out dragon flies! Joan screams her mouth but a few inches from my right ear. My head begins to ring furiously my eyes water my nose bleed. Overwhelmed by nausea I collapse and would ve fallen off the diving board if Joan hadn t grabbed me. What happened? I mumbled. An alligator ate the little yellow duck... Joan said tearfully. It was awful... Then why did you call out a warning to the dragon flies and not to the duck? I wanted to know. I didn t see the alligator! I thought you were pointing at the duck! Joan had stopped crying and there was an accusatory tone in her voice as if I were somehow responsible for this tragedy. What are you doing up here anyway? Joan complained as she turned and walked away.
