Sink if you want, but don't forget to swim afterwards
“Jump rookie! What are you waiting for? We don't have all day.”
The lieutenant's loud shout echoed off the gym walls. The platoon of pledges, lined up and covered, sitting on their hindquarters around the far right end of the Olympic diving pool, was attentive to the instructor. Fear was visible on the youthful faces, and they saw a sadistic and sober expression on the exercise director's face.
“Aspirants, today you will have your first test of courage. Those of you who quit will have to leave.” He scowled, like an ogre at his enemy. “Come to Cadet Smith, he will jump at my command.” He turned in the direction of the platform raised more than ten meters, and repeated the shout at the top of his lungs: Jump Cadet Smith.
Alan craned his neck in sync with his companions to see Cadet Smith, as young as they were, sheathing the white T-shirt, olive green grid pants, and black field boots. Smith, standing two paces from the edge of the platform, bent his knees slightly, gathered momentum, and leaped forward. During the brief flight, he watched as the cadet kept his body straight with his arms tight to his body. Just as he entered the pool, he watched as Smith stretched himself by diving into the water with almost no splash, disappearing beneath the limpid, crystalline surface that revealed the bluish hue of the tiles. From his position, he could not see the swim. He imagined how difficult it must be with his clothes on his back. Suddenly, he emerged. Smith's face exuded triumph.
“Who will be the first of you to show his courage? Who will raise his hand? None of you, eh!”
The silence grew noisy. Everyone knew that Smith was the standard-bearer of the Olympic diving team at the army officers' school. Besides, they had already learned they were not to volunteer for any reason.
Source: Image by Juan Esteban Muñoz Bedya on Pixabay
“Very well. I'll select him.”
The lieutenant walked from one end to the other, scrutinizing the slightest sign of fear on the faces of the applicants.
“You (pointing with his index finger). Rookie, what's your name?”
“Aspirant Fear, Alan Fear, sir.”
“Go, get on the platform, and wait for my signal.”
Alan stood up immediately, without looking at his companions, and marched to the platform. With each step he reviewed the instructions received moments before, comparing them with the example given by Cadet Smith. At the foot of the vertical ladder, he began the ascent through the concentric rings, by way of protection. Without looking down, he remembered his father's question: Are you sure you have what it takes to be an army officer? He hastened the ascent.
Already on the platform, the large pool seemed to him like the water trough for the animals on his grandfather's farm: small compared to him. Then fear made him waver from the determination he had shown three months before to confront his progenitor. He heard the lieutenant's voice attenuated: “Jump rookie!”. He thought how much he feared heights, but he was more afraid of ridicule, of being labeled a coward. He remembered the bullying at school because of his surname, and how he insisted on explaining the Norman origin of it: “the proud”, “the fierce” or “the brave”; once again he had to prove the others wrong, then he heard the lieutenant again: “What are you waiting for? We don't have all day.”
Everyone squatting down watched him expectantly, especially the lieutenant, who had chosen Alan. The lieutenant was confident in his sense of smell, which he had used to detect a coward.
Alan was trembling and began to take deep breaths. He was really afraid, he had always been afraid. Suddenly, he smiled at the reminiscence of his father's serious words as he gave him the go-ahead: «Son, it's okay, now you're going to face real challenges, either sink or swim». He put his feet together, gathered momentum, and jumped in, imitating Smith. He slowly sensed his encounter with the water. He splashed the lieutenant's shiny boots and sank to the bottom.
The lifeguards, attentive, watched as the aspiring cadet Fear struggled to rise to the surface. Incipient bubbles gradually supplanted the ripples generated in the water.
For Alan, it was the first time he had swum from such a depth. However, he kept calm as he said to himself: you've sunk, swim onward and upward. He exhaled the last breath of air, the blurred vision of the surface telling him how close he was. He climbed out and, using his courage, braced himself, carrying the dead weight of his clothing. He felt a cramp, and he made the final two meters of progress until he touched the shore. He had won. The lieutenant's face showed disappointment.
“Get out of the water, cadet, you're no longer a wannabe!”
The end
An original short story by @janaveda in Spanish and translated to English with www.deepl.com (free version) and edited with www.grammarly.com
The thumbnail taken an image by Pixabay
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―¡Salta novato! ¿Qué esperas? No tenemos todo el día.
El grito potente del teniente retumbó en las paredes del gimnasio. El pelotón de aspirantes, alineados y cubiertos, sentados sobre sus cuartos traseros alrededor del extremo derecho de la alberca de salto olímpico, estaban atentos al instructor. El temor era visible en los rostros juveniles, mientras veían un aire sádico y sobrado en la expresión del director del ejercicio.
―Aspirantes, hoy tendrán su primera prueba de valor. Quienes se rajen, tendrán que irse. ―Vociferó entretejiendo el ceño, tal como un ogro ante el enemigo. ―Ven al cadete Smith, él saltará cuando lo ordene. ―Volteó en dirección de la plataforma elevada sobre más de diez metros, y repitió el gritó a todo pulmón: Salte cadete Smith.
Alan giró su cuello en sincronía con los de sus compañeros para ver al cadete Smith, tan joven como ellos, enfundando la camiseta blanca, el pantalón de grilla verde oliva y las botas negras de campaña. Smith, erguido a dos pasos del borde de la plataforma, flexionó ligeramente las rodillas, tomó impulso y saltó a adelante. Durante el breve vuelo, observó como el cadete mantuvo el cuerpo recto con los brazos bien pegados al mismo. Justo al entrar a la piscina, vio cómo Smith se estiró clavándose en el agua sin casi salpicar, desapareciendo debajo de la superficie límpida y cristalina que dejaba ver el tono azulado de las baldosas. Desde su posición, no pudo ver el trecho a nado. Imaginó lo difícil que debía ser con la ropa a cuesta. De súbito, emergió. El rostro de Smith emanaba triunfo.
―¿Quién será el primero de ustedes en demostrar su valor? ¿Quién levanta la mano? ¡Ninguno, eh!
El silencio se hizo ruidoso. Todos sabían que Smith era el abanderado del equipo de salto olímpico de la escuela de oficiales del ejército. Además, habían aprendido ya, que por ningún motivo debían ofrecerse.
Fuente: Imagen de Juan Esteban Muñoz Bedya en Pixabay
―Muy bien. Yo lo seleccionaré.
El teniente caminó de un extremo al otro, escrutando la menor señal de miedo en las caras de los aspirantes.
―Tú ―señalando con el índice―. Novato, ¿cómo se llama?
―Aspirante Fear, Alan Fear, señor.
―Vaya y suba a la plataforma, y esperé mi señal.
Alan se levantó de inmediato, sin mirar a sus compañeros, emprendió la marcha hacia la plataforma. Con cada paso repasaba las instrucciones recibidas momentos antes, cotejándolas con el ejemplo dado por el cadete Smith. Al pie de la escalera vertical, comenzó el ascenso a través de los aros concéntricos, a manera de protección. Sin mirar abajo, recordó la pregunta de su padre: ¿Estás seguro de tener lo necesario para ser un oficial del ejército? Apresuró el ascenso.
Ya sobre la plataforma, la gran piscina le pareció como el abrevadero de agua de los animales de la granja de su abuelo: pequeña en comparación con él. Entonces el temor le hizo titubear en cuanto a la determinación mostrada tres meses antes de confrontar a su progenitor. Escuchó atenuada la voz del teniente: ―¡Salta novato! ―. Pensó lo mucho que temía a las alturas, pero más le temía al ridículo, a ser tachado de cobarde. Recordó el acoso escolar por culpa de su apellido, y cómo se empeñó en explicar el origen normando del mismo: “el orgulloso”, “el feroz” o “el valiente”; otra vez debía demostrar a los demás que estaban equivocados, entonces volvió a escuchar al teniente: ―¿Qué esperas? No tenemos todo el día.
Todos en cuclillas lo veían con expectación, en especial el teniente, quien había escogido a Alan, confiado en su olfato de haber detectado a un cobarde.
Alan temblaba y empezaba a respirar hondo. Tenía real miedo, siempre había tenido miedo. De repente, sonrió ante la reminiscencia de las palabras serias de su padre al darle el beneplácito: Hijo, está bien, ahora te enfrentarás a verdaderos retos, o te hundes o nadas. Juntó los pies, tomó impulso y saltó, imitando a Smith. Percibió lenta su encuentro con el agua. Salpicó las brillantes botas del teniente y se hundió hasta tocar el fondo.
Los guardias salvavidas, atentos, veían cómo el aspirante a cadete Fear luchaba por subir a la superficie. Incipientes burbujas suplantaron, de a poco, a las ondas generadas en el agua.
Para Alan, era la primera vez que nadaba desde tal profundidad. Empero, mantuvo la calma al decirse: ya te hundiste, bracea y avanza. Expulsó la última bocanada de aire, la visión borrosa de la superficie le indicaba lo cerca que estaba. Salió y, haciendo uso de coraje, braceó acarreando el peso muerto del ropaje. Sitió un amago de calambre, y acompasó el avance de los dos metros finales hasta tocar la orilla. Había vencido. La cara del teniente denotaba decepción.
―¡Salga del agua cadete, ya dejó de ser un aspirante!
Fin
Un microrrelato original de @janaveda
La miniautura fue tomada de una imagen de Pixabay
Gracias por leerme. Espero que esta micro-ficción sea de su agrado. Me gustaría mucho leer sus comentarios al respecto para enriquecerme con sus críticas.
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An interesting story that tells us how we can, at a given moment, overcome fear. Sometimes we have no other choice. Greetings
Yes, fear is latently accompanying us, waiting to dominate the scene. That's good, it protects us and alerts us. It is here, where the brave. Of course, one must differentiate recklessness. Our protagonist was ready to face the challenge. But imagine if he did not know how to swim. The end would be different. You know, I thought of an alternative ending where the lieutenant rescued him, but it would spoil the happy ending and the intention I wanted to convey.
Greetings.
Determination made the difference, against all odds, regardless of our opposition, we will emerge victorious like Alan if only we believe.
Beautiful piece
Hello, @graat
Yes, our protagonist is very determined, and for sure, he will get his goal in the end.
Thank you for your kind words.
Greetings.
Thank you for that. This was the first post I read today. It was like finding the sun rising. Sets the tone for the rest of my day.
A beautifully written story--the best way to take down a bully is to win :)
Hello, @agmoore
Thank you very much for such kind words. Yes, overcoming fear to win is the crux of courage. Your comment, also made my day.
Greetings.
🌟🍂🌻
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I was not expecting this good news today! A new milestone was achieved for me. Thank you.
Greetings.
You have indeed reached a major milestone. Awesome job @janaveda! 👍
Thank you very much!