Under the best of circumstances, parents build thick walls around their children to protect them from “the bad.” “The bad” comes from two directions: forces outside the family and forces inside the family.
The former includes wars, natural disasters, epidemics, violence in neighborhoods/schools, acts of terrorism. The later include parental death or illness, unstable marriages, alcohol/drug problems, domestic violence, child abuse/neglect.
From the child’s point of view, it does not matter where “the bad” comes from. All that matters to them is this: as their walls of protection come crumbling down, something new seeps into their veins. The name of this toxic poison is fear.
Today’s story is about a family of six who face this nightmare: if they remain in the home/neighborhood, they will die. Are the parents willing to sacrifice everything to save their children? If the children survive, how can they heal from the double shock of loss and fear? At the story’s end, an antidote for fear will be presented. What is it called? Hope.
Smack dab in the belly of southern Indiana lies a man-made reservoir called Lake Cayuga. Built to stop downstream flooding, a wide basin was bulldozed and a dam across the Cayenne River was erected. On the spillway side of the dam, the riverbed was widened so that overflow lake water was routed southward to Kentucky. But then, a disaster struck: Torrential rainfall during the dam’s construction flooded the basin, before all the tree stumps, brush, old timber and forests could be removed. The result was a blessing for fish, especially largemouth bass, as well as the anglers who coveted the thrill of hooking a lunker — a 9-pound bass.
In the spring of 2016, 32,000 eggs were laid by Mrs. Bluefin (a largemouth bass) and fertilized and protected by Mr. Bluefin (also a largemouth bass). Two months later, only four of the baby bass fry — three boys and one girl — survived to reach 10 inches: Cuda, Striker, Shank and Lucy.
And so, it was, on a sunny morning in May, that Mrs. B took her children to the jumping pool to teach them how to leap. “Listen up children, first, go down 10 feet, next, hyperventilate by drawing in water over your gills, then, using your tail, rocket up to the surface.”
Whoosh, Whoosh, Whoosh! Like missiles launched from a submarine, three boys broke the surface. Where was Lucy? Lucy closed her eyes, tilted her side pectoral fins 15 degrees, and pumped her tail like a porpoise. Like a spiraling football thrown by an NFL quarterback, or a bullet fired from a rifle, Lucy exploded out of the water, soaring up, twisting in the air. As she climbed the arch of her leap, she hovered mid-air, and the sun struck her gemstone studded flanks, radiating brilliant bursts of rainbow colors.
The next day, while swimming with her mother, Lucy asked, “Mom, why do we leap out of the water?”
“Well, Lucy, no one knows why, but some say it’s a show of power, or a mating ritual, or to reconnoiter the land.” But in her heart Lucy already knew why bass leap, so she …
“Lucy, look there!” her mother said. Sitting upon floating lily pads were the Squeakles family. “Lucy, listen to their croaks and you can learn the sounds of the baby, the mother and King Squeakles.”
“Gribb-it, Gribb-it,” baby croaked.
“Jum-a-Jum,” mother croaked.
“Jug-O-Rum,” King croaked.
“Can I eat them?” Lucy asked. “Heavens no, Lucy, they protect our spawning grounds by alerting us to intruders.” “Do they make a special warning croak?” Lucy asked. “No, they go silent,” her mother said.
As the summer grew hotter, Lucy began to circumnavigate the entire lake. On a July morning, while near the dam, the water suddenly turned blood red. Frightened, Lucy dove down 150 feet to the murky bottom of the dam where she sensed an undulating rhythm: something huge approached.
From out of the darkness, came two menacing green eyes which fixed on her. When she swiveled to flee, teeth tore into her flesh.
“Lucy,” her mother yelled, “wake up, you’re having a nightmare.” “Mom, there’s a monster in the lake.” Her mother did not question or disagree with her. Why not? Lucy had a 6th sense: on her flanks were nerve endings so sensitive, she could detect a single raindrop striking the far side of the lake. Lucy’s nightmare returned night after night.
The next day, while gliding near the dam, Lucy shrieked, “Mom, the monster is coming!” A one ton, 15-foot Baltic sturgeon broke the surface. He had a silver body, with ivory plated scales, green eyes and a tail which swept side-to-side like a giant broom.
“Lucy, this is the Swede.” As he swam closer, he winked at Lucy and spoke to her mother: “Hur mar du, Mrs. B?” “I’m fine Mr. Swede, this is my daughter Lucy.”
“Myaket vacker kvinor,” he said. “Yes, Lucy is beautiful.” As her mother and the Swede swam away to talk, Lucy turned her body so she could pick up every word.
“Mrs. B, toxic poison is coming from the old submerged mine shaft, and it will soon rise up and kill everyone.” “How can we save our children,” she asked. “There is a tunnel at the eastern wall of the dam — if we excavate all the debris, it goes to the river on the other side of the dam.” “How much time do we have?” “Three days.”
Day one: Mr. and Mrs. B and the Swede worked all night to excavate the tunnel. Using his tail as a broom, the Swede swept away 10 tons of debris. Using their large mouths, Mr. and Mrs. B shoveled out rock and sand until finally, the tunnel was open.
Day two: Lucy awoke to silence. Why had the Squeakles gone silent? Where were my brothers and parents? As she swam out into the lake, the stink of death gassed her: the entire lake was riddled with dead fish.
Finally, her parents returned home. “Lucy, we need to go to the dam so you can escape.” “Escape with you, right Mom and Dad?” “Lucy, we are too sick from the poison — you need to come with us now!”
Lucy entered the tunnel and soon, found herself in the cool, clear river water. As she swam downstream, three young bass rushed up to her, “Lucy, you’re alive!” Cuda, Striker and Shank hugged her, but she began to sob. “Mom and Dad didn’t make it.”
“Lucy, follow us,” they yelled, “we found a deep pool ahead and would you please …”
Lucy dove down deep into the pool, shut her eyes, and pictured her parents faces, tilted her fins and did a porpoise pump until she exploded out of the water into the air.
Day three: “Hello, it’s Lucy, and I hope you liked my …” What? You want to know why I leap? “Since it’s my nature to be happy, sometimes I jump to joy, but mostly, the reason I leap is to give you hope!”
When was the last time you jumped for joy, took a leap of faith, or, while perched upon the edge of a towering cliff, holding the hand of your loved one, you took a leap into the heart of another?
The content of this article is for educational purposes only and should not be used as a substitute for treatment by a professional. The characters in this story are not real. Names and details have been changed to protect confidentiality.
Dr. Richard Elghammer contributes his column to the Journal Review.
