It starts as a peaceful day on the river. Mr. Chirdon is in the back of a raft full of people, steering and maneuvering rocks as they crash beside him. He keeps calm while he cheers up his flock with a joke, “What’s the difference between a raft guide and a Mutual Fund? A fund will eventually mature and make money!” a spark of laugh erupts from the people, then dies out as quick as it started. Chirdon still is happy with himself, but from his zoning out, he took a wrong turn in the forked river! He wakes from his daydreaming and grabs the paddles. He rows as fast as he can in the opposite direction of the violent waves. Screams arose from the boat, some of the fear some of the amusement of the tumbling boat. A rock in front of them is seen, a big dip before the rock could mean a tip. He yells at everyone to be ready to flip. Though he tries to resist the water, it pushes with inhuman strength against his paddle. The boat gets closer and closer and flips.
Mr. Chridon wakes up from his dream. He looks around, rubbing his head and his eyes groggy, he remembered his favorite job. Though his first job, a welder, wasn’t as close to his favorite, a raft guide, he still has dreams about it some days, but today he remembered his favorite. He looked around his desk, remembering doing his favorite hobby, modeling railroads. He was trying to build his own homemade train to put on the railroad. He kept working on his train, but while he was working he thought about his whole life.
He thought how far he has gone, starting in Harrisburg Pennsylvania and ending in Fruita. Due to the military, he went all over the country but settled here. Maybe it was school that brought me here, he thought to himself, I mean it all started at San Diego State University, then to California State, then Denver University. I really didn’t know what I wanted to do with myself, one of the main reasons for joining the military, but I loved science, especially astronomy or environmental, basically anything with space. It amazed me of how much it goes on and it still does. But I remembered standing in elementary school. The music teacher. My worst nightmares was my music teacher. About how the teacher made me stand if i didn’t memorize music and how much I hated it, but also myself for not perusing music. He snapped into reality, that’s all in the past, he thought. He continued on his model train on his desk, ready to teach environmental science tomorrow.