The Plunge

The railing felt clammy beneath Timothy’s hands. The ten year old tightened his grip on the stainless steel bars, refusing to yield to the pudgy hands on his back.

“Move!” the other boy behind him shouted. “You’re in the way.”

“No!” Timothy yelled, gripping the railing even tighter as he squeezed his eyes closed.

“It’s your turn to jump. Go!”

Briefly he opened his eyes, following the length of quivery white plastic to where it terminated twenty feet above the shimmering blue water below. A sudden gust of wind shook the high dive, and the board shivered like Timmy’s own shaking limbs. He clenched his eyes closed against the sight, shrinking back from the diving board. But there was nowhere else to go. He only succeed in bumping up against the boy behind him.

“Hey, watch it! You’re gonna knock me off!”

If he heard, Timothy didn’t show it. He crouched at the back of the board, hardly daring to look over the side where the pool wavered and shimmered like asphalt on a hot summer day. It felt as if a physical hand had grabbed him by the rib cage and was doing its best to choke the life out of him.

“I wanna go down,” he breathed, forcing his words past the tightness in his chest.

“No way! You can’t go back now. We’d all have to go down too,” the other boy protested, gesturing to the line of children clinging to the ladder below him.

“I don’t care. I want down.”

“Then jump, scarediecat! That’s how you get down. You jump.”

“Yeah, my arms are getting tired! Hurry up already.” another said another girl.

“I—“

The chubby boy didn’t give him a chance to finish. “Jump!” he shouted again, pushing Timothy toward the precipice.

For a moment, the fear of his peers seemed to overpower his fear of heights. Slowly, Timmy pulled himself upright, holding onto the railing to support his quavering hands. He glanced back at the boy behind him, but quickly looked away from the scowling face. Fighting for breath, he hesitantly began inching his way down the board. Soon he left the railing behind and found himself perched twenty feet above the ground with nowhere to go but down.

He swallowed hard as the board began to wobble, bouncing up and down with each hesitant step. Finally he reached the terminus, but as he looked down at the watery landing pad below, he had to turn away for the sudden spasm of fear that twisted his gut like a balloon animal.

“Hurry up!” someone yelled from behind.

Timothy’s breath came in rapid pants as he straightened up, desperately trying to think of an excuse that would sway such a cruel mindset as that of a child’s. His eyes scanned the ground, where more than a few grown ups had taken notice, his mother among them.

She stood, shading her eyes as she gazed upward, no doubt wondering what had gone wrong. It was Timmy’s first time on the high dive, and she wanted to see him jump. He knew she would be disappointed, but she wouldn’t make fun of him. Not like the other children. She, of all people, would let him come down.

Timmy started to turn away from the edge, but one look from the boy behind him stopped him in his tracks. He had his arms folded over his chest in a parody of his father, glaring like a hateful snake. Whatever Timmy’s fears, he couldn’t face that—he couldn’t face the ridicule. He had to jump.

Turning around, he inched closer to the edge. He hooked his pruney toes over the brink as the board continued to wobble, twisting his stomach a little more with each motion. Bolstering every moral fiber in his body, Timmy pushed off with his feet, bouncing into the air for one brief split second. Then he was falling.

He had thought that nothing could rival the sense of fear that he had felt gazing down on that glittering jewel beneath him. But as gravity took hold, it felt as if his stomach was trying to force its way out of his throat. He clenched his eyes closed as the rushing wind flew through his hair and chilled his clammy skin. The two seconds it took to reach the ground felt like an eternity, but he then he hit the water.

He didn’t hear the splash. He only felt the chilly grip of the water take hold, paralyzing his body if only for a moment. The cold seemed to sap the breath from his chest, and suddenly his lungs were screaming for air. With that abrupt realization, he fought free of the water’s cold grip and kicked his way to the surface. As soon as his tawny head broke the water, his chest heaved, and an influx of fresh oxygen surged into his airways, expunging the knot of fear in his stomach and allowing him to breath once more.