TURTLE BOY I remember finding a turtle once and painting my name on its back with red fingernail polish. I kept it for a few days, very proud of how the red TIM showed up against the dark green shell. Eventually I took the turtle to a secret neighborhood pond (kids always know where secret ponds are located) and gently released it on the bank. It blinked at me for a few minutes and then swam slowly away, the sun glistening off the fingernail polish until it disappeared below the surface. How foolish it was to have painted my name on the back of a turtle, and how utterly arrogant. But I guess back then and at that age I had not yet discovered that we can never truly own anything, least alone a frightened turtle.