Elsa saw herself when she was no older than five or six, sitting at the head of a table with about ten of her classmates from kindergarten, torn wrapping paper from the presents she had opened, paper plates loaded with chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream, paper cups filled with Coca-Cola or cream soda. Eating her slice of cake and reacting in surprise when she bit down on a quarter wrapped in waxed paper. Standing in the hallway and waving goodbye to her friends as their moms showed up to take them home. Filling her sticker book with the scratch ‘n’ sniff stickers from her loot bag, scratching a root beer sticker, her favorite one, over and over until the scent began to fade. Her dad returning from work and carrying a firetruck-red tricycle, a purple bow stuck to the white banana seat. Riding the trike up and down the driveway, the tinsel streamers on the ends of the handlebars fluttering in the wind, and when she built up the nerve, taking it for a test drive around the block. Years later, sitting on a beach in front of a bonfire, some of the older kids she was with smoking cigarettes and drinking beers. Talking to a chubby boy her age who she didn’t like romantically but who liked her. Going for a walk down the beach with him, eventually holding hands when they were far enough away that nobody could see them, stopping and kissing, French kissing. Disliking the tongue-touching but going with it because some of her friends were doing it. Thinking about the boy when she went to sleep that night, wondering if she was going to marry him, never telling anyone what she had done…and never seeing the boy again, as it turned out he was visiting from a different state. Dressed in a black graduation gown and mortarboard hat, being called up onto the stage, shaking the chancellor’s hand and receiving her degree certificate. Participating in a photograph outside with her entire class, everyone throwing their hats in the air, the future big and bright. Hooking her first great white in the waters of Southern California when she was twenty-four, guiding it onto the research vessel’s lift, throwing a wet towel over its eyes and removing the hook from its jaws, pumping water over its gills with a large hose, screwing a satellite tag onto its dorsal fin with a power drill. Collecting measurements, blood, and tissue samples before letting it go again in the water. Clinking beers with the rest of the crew for a job well done and never feeling so alive. Performing her first overhead environment dive that same year in Florida’s Devil’s Spring cave system, exploring the mystical passageways with a colleague and marveling at the limestone formations and intricately decorated caverns and knowing this was the beginning of what would become a lifelong passion.