Going With the Flow

"We live in a wonderful world that is full of beauty, charm and adventure. There is no end to the adventures that we can have if only we seek them with our eyes open."
-Jawaharlal Nehru, first Prime Minister of India

When my brother was about fifteen he saved up all his money and bought a yellow dinghy.
One day shortly after his purchase he walked to the river, which was about one mile away, and I, three years younger, trailed like a dutiful sibling behind him. He carried the new boat, a pump and some supplies. No doubt I carried something too and made myself useful.
He was going on an expedition to see a friend who also lived near to a river. He would arrive at his friend's house by a non traditional means.
We reached the river, climbed down onto the grassy bank and proceeded to prepare my brother for takeoff.
It was a rather narrow river- more like a stream, really- and I expect that my brother was the first ever to try to use it for transport. In some places the river would be barely wide enough for his vessel to skim through.
Almost as soon as my brother began to put air into the boat the foot pump broke. He was aghast; the weather was hot and he did not wish to walk home again without meeting his friend.
I was horrified when my industrious brother began resolutely to pump up the boat with his mouth. I watched him grow redder and redder and the afternoon grew hotter and hotter and I was fearful for him. He would not listen to reason and he succeeded in filling up that dinghy with the air in his lungs. I think that it took about thirty minutes.
Finally he was ready to sail. I stood on the shore among the reeds and tall grasses and watched my brother float away.
Then he was a yellow blur cruising among the Summer greenery.
Then he was gone.
I walked back by myself, of course, in the blistering sun and wondered all the way there how he was faring and all the day long, too, if he had been blown off course like an intrepid explorer in a storm, or if he had actually reached his friend's home. I was concerned not merely because he was my only brother but because I had personally assisted and had set him on his path. As a direct accomplice I had much to worry about.
My sibling mercifully returned home before nightfall, as planned, but to our surprise it was by car. His explorations had led him to his friend's house where he had tied up the boat in a remote and untrampled field.
Hours later, when he went to fetch it again and drift home, the boat had vanished. It was not to be found anywhere and somebody had to drive him home.
He mourned the loss of his boat and his savings for a very long time and nobody ever established what happened to it.
But I do not suppose for one moment that my brother is sorry he had his adventure- after all, accomplishing what one set out to do is the only thing that means anything in this world.



-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
*The book giveaway ends Saturday night; I thought I would put out a little last-minute reminder in case any Calvin and Hobbes readers are interested.