I was trying to think of times when I've been scared for no good reason. I'm not talking about normal frights, like the time I was running home from a friend's house late at night, heard something rushing at me, and both the cat and I jumped about five feet in the air and ran in opposite directions. That's normal fright. But what about those times when you're scared stiff and you don't know why? This cries out for a top 5 list.
1. Coming Home
This is the memory that triggered this post. I was looking at a picture of Luke and Max when they were newborns, and I thought about their final check-up in the hospital. The boys seemed so fragile and mysterious. It seemed like they were fighting for every breath, and eating was a do-or-die proposition. I remember being shocked when the doctor looked them over and said, "Luke and Max are doing fine. I'll see them again in ten days." Ten days! What was she talking about? Those frail little creatures should be seen by a doctor every few hours! When we all loaded up in the car and drove home on Christmas Eve, I was scared silly. I felt like the Robert Redford character in The Candidate when he gets elected even though he's wildly inexperienced, and he turns to his campaign manager and says, "What do we do now?"
2. Interview with the Damned
This next one is kind of odd, because the memory was scary even though the actual event wasn't. When I was a missionary, my companion and I went to visit a young man who'd stopped going to church. He was deeply troubled. Haunted, even. I can't remember what he said, but I do remember his look of hopeless anguish. It makes sense that after 25 years, I don't remember where in Peru that happened. What's odd is that I'd forgotten where that happened soon afterwards. The interview took on a dream-like quality in my mind, as if I were remembering some nightmare. One of the strongest memories of my mission was also the foggiest. It stuck with me.
3. Innertube water polo
Now this is getting really irrational. There was (and probably still is) an intramural sport at BYU called innertube water polo. Everything about it seems dorky. First off, it's co-ed. Each team played three girls and three guys. For another thing, everyone has to splash around in innertubes and try to score goals. Goofy, right? It got competitive. Fiercely competitive. It got so that I had a difficult time sleeping the night before big games. I had no trouble sleeping before playing in real water polo games against the likes of Arizona State and Air Force Academy, so why would I be frightened the night before innertube water polo games? The consolation I have for this odd fear is that the leader of Ghetto Magic -- an intramural sports juggernaut at BYU that regularly won 4A championships in multiple sports -- said innertube water polo was by far his favorite sport. Go figure.
Ha! It's a top 3 list. See? That's the advantage of having a non-fascist blog. I can write a top 3 list and no one complains!