The Dive: Chapter III

Six years later I graduated from the college in St. Louis. I had my degree as a museum curator. I planned on joining a museum in St. Louis within the month.

I had grown used to St. Louis. I had even begun to like it. But as I finished high school I had a nagging memory of the wash of the surf on the beach and of shells and clams and of scuba diving. But when I started college these memories were pushed into the back of my brain, temporarily forgotten.

In my new job, I was curator of the quarter of the building titled: ‘THE SEA SECTION’ in bold letters over the archway. I worked there for a year and a half. I attracted the attention of the manager by my excellent explanatory skills and he placed me in a higher position. After working for another six months, I was granted a month’s vacation. I spent a few days with my parents and my sister Kit, who was now married, and then, after consultation with my parents, decided I would spend the rest of my vacation by the ocean that I loved.

I arrived at sunset that day. When I walked down to the water’s edge, it all came back. I remembered the fish, and the coral, the mussels and the tides. I promised the rolling waves that I would be back the next day with my scuba gear.


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