After the experience of my new stepfather trying to drown me on their honeymoon of all places, I was told that to make it up to me I would be going on a walk of my own with my stepfather the next morning. Great, I thought.
I was becoming versed in the art of sarcasm which never really had a place in my vocabulary before the age of four.
The walk up to the gate or entryway to that little Inn at the base of Mount Fuji was nice enough. I did not want to go walk through the clouds again. I was too afraid of being left behind for good this time.
He talked to me about an imagined scenario.
We stood near the opening to the short drive up to the Inn. Near the decorative "fence" there was a small decorative freshwater pond.

We talked about swimming. He told me that another way to teach me to swim without the inflatable ring I was used to, was he could take me out on a little boat and throw me into the water.
I stood my ground, just wondering what was going to blast me in the face into the future this time.

He wanted to "get to know me better", although I was obviously still shook up over what had happened up to that point.
I was so young that I still forgave quickly and easily. I still sought to look ahead, being convinced that better things were to come. So, I thought about his question, "What would I do in the event that he carried out throwing me into the freshwater to teach me to swim?

"Well", I said as confidently and honestly as I could. "Much like being in the ocean and knowing it's rules of engagement (I did not use these exact words obviously but I do remember the feelings and thoughts) I was actually a very good swimmer with my ring. Also, I could hold my breath a very, very long time."
Knowing that I was very stubborn, and determined and committed to not trust this worthless human being I explained that I would probably get to the bottom, fold my arms and legs and look up angrily at my him!

Then, as suddenly as it began as the hope evaporated into the clouds our "walk" was over. What the heck? We didn't actually walk anywhere. I wanted to know what the point was of this charade.

What he told me sent a cold shot of adrenaline through my veins and I felt an icy finger that went straight to my heart.

His explanation was as follows:

Later on in life, much later than now if I ever remembered what had taken place there and didn't keep my mouth shut, he was going to "test" me to see if I was in my right mind. He was going to test my mental faculties.
If I remembered and talked about any of this he would test me by seeing if I recalled being subjected to an attempt at drowning me once in the ocean, or once in the ocean and once in fresh water.
If I remembered one incident in the ocean then I he would know that I was in my right mind. If I remembered two incidents then he had the basis to declare that I was not in my right mind.

This made no sense to me at the time. The years went slowly by.

I had trained myself to always listen for his footsteps coming past my bedroom door. If he heard me stir, turn over or onto my side, scratch an itch? He would suddenly shout angrily, "GO TO SLEEP!" It was brutal.
I used his own tactic on him, asking how he would be able to tell if I was asleep. He would listen to my breathing. Ha! I got the information I was after!
I studied my breathing, determined to fool him and win in the end. I trained myself to not move a muscle, no matter how much I felt like I wanted to turn over. No matter how much I might have an itch, I learned to be still and ignore it. I trained myself to breathe very small shallow breaths...until one night it finally happened! I did it! I beat him!
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