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Show Fair Forever 32 boarded up and weathered. But mostly, I stood in awe of the surf, wild and fearsome against the long breakwater of stones. I had seen waves before-witnessed the power of the ocean from the safety of , life-guarded beaches. But never had I seen the ocean rise up and roar. Waves hurled themselves against the rocks, smashing headfirst, dying in a foaming surge after long lives in the sea. I trembled and took my father's hand, cowering in his shadow. He, too, took a step back, picked me up, held me close. As he carried me back to the car, tired and trembling, he apologized for dragging me to the light, for encouraging me to explore. "I forget sometimes," he said, and I knew he meant my heart. And that's what I loved most-that he actually forgot sometimes. He added, "We'll come back when your better and we'll laugh at the waves." But we never did because I only got worse. And then Dad was killed in an accident. , ; _ Later, in the car, Mom asked, "Did you like it?"; ' [ I assured her I had, describing the angry surf and the pounding waves. But I had lied. I didn't want to confess my fear, admit my cowardice. I was only nine, but I had learned suddenly how small I really was, sick and powerless. I never forgot. Leaning back in my chair,T turn away from the lighthouse. The setting sun is beginning to paint clouds-pink and gray-purple. I look at my hands. Still red. The lights, from a few trawlers begin to float the bay. |