From: richh@netcom.com (richh)
Subject: RICHH:  PANNING FOR EYES
Message-ID: <richhCA3LHo.FMo@netcom.com>
Followup-To: alt.prose.d
Date: Tue, 13 Jul 1993 10:08:12 GMT
Lines: 45

     We didn't take many real vacations when I was young, mainly
because my parents weren't as wealthy as our friends, and any
extra cash went into giving the impression that we were wealthier
than we were.
     I do remember one vacation in particular, though.  We went out
to Colorado, I think, and ended up in some sort of park.  None of
us had ever seen anything so beautiful.  There was a waterfall
there, not a huge one but still impressive.  The water was
hypnotic; you could watch it for hours, and it seemed to make the
rocks below sing as it fell.  I was twelve and my brother nine and
we waded into the water in our cutoffs as our parents stood arm in
arm on the bank.  
     "Remember, just ten minutes, boys,and don't look up" yelled
our dad.  A park ranger had told us not to stay in too long or our
back and shoulders would be covered with bruises.  The water felt
like a thick heavy shower and I laughed as it beat me up.  
     I looked over at Howard.  He was looking down into the water,
moving the rocks around with his feet.
     "What are you doing?" I asked.
     "Looking for eyes."  
     The park ranger had told us not to look up into the water or
we could lose an eye.  Howard was looking for some of the lost
ones.
     "You'll never find one that way.  You have to *pan* for them."
     "*Pan*?" he asked.
     "Yeah," and I explained how the gold miners used pans to
separate the gold from the rocks and pebbles.
     "But why didn't the gold just fall through, too?" he asked.
     "You dork.  The pans were *magnetic*, so the gold stayed in."
     "Ahhhh.  So what's magnetic to an eye?" he asked.
     "A naked girl?"
     He laughed, and tapped me on the shoulder and pointed to mom
and dad.
     They were facing each other, less than a foot apart.
     My dad put his hand in the small of my mom's back and drew her
towards him.  They kissed, longer than they ever kissed at home. 
My dad cupped my mom's breast and she slipped her hand into the
front pocket of his shorts.  Howard went back to looking for
eyeballs, but I kept watching, and ever since I don't remember my
father being more heroic, or my mother more beautiful, as on that
summer day when I was twelve and my brother nine, and our backs were
bruised and our eyes were open wide.

RICHH
--personality l