Shark Week

Your nephew will consider these mysterious ways, and if they involve shark attacks, he’ll grow up an atheist. This was all before he knew about the ways and means committee. Before the church people came and recruited his entire family to build glass houses in Tegucigalpa. Before blow pops and slinkies and adult pool parties during which he and his sister would crawl onto rooves to listen. Before she died. It wasn’t because he’d obsessed over Jaws, watching it repeatedly, alone in the dark, sweaty popcorn ingested. She was terrified of sharks long before Jaws. Where do people go when they die, he’d blurted on the way to his swimming lessons. His mother turned the Carpenters song, Top of the World, up. He scrolled through the various sharks on his cell. Hammerheads. Shortfin Mako. Common Thresher. Waiting for Shark Week. Hoping for some next attack, any, especially involving kids. Today, when I swim, he thinks, I’m going to be an Angel Shark.

Or check out the archives

Pin It on Pinterest