Dancing Like A Swan

A Story by Chris

"His heart was racing- his eyes were wide- his legs like a puma ready to pounce". "The pond is calm, the pond is silent, the pond is desolate of anyone at all". "Tiny tears swarm his eyes".

The boy is sitting- alone- by a glistening pond. His eyes search out across it. Magnificent trees are reflected in the water- a true but distorted image. Swans flutter through the air- moving, oh so gently, to their next location. Still warm wind creates tiny ripples in the ponds surface- a break in the aqueous fabric.

The boy brings his arm back and then forward- letting a smooth rock flow from his hand. It glides through the wind, and then onto the water. It skips and dances on the surface like a ballerina and then it clunks downwards. Perhaps the ballerina fell. The boy sighs and looks up at the warm orange sky- clouds streaming like horizontal pillars up above. He smiles for a moment, but then looks away suddenly. Alone- he is alone.

The pond is calm, the pond is silent, the pond is desolate of anyone at all. The boy stands up and reaches down to the ground and picks up a rock. He looks up to the sky with an indescribable resolute and then at the pond below. He takes the rock and throws- no hucks it- at the surface of the water- grunting as he does so. Tiny tears swarm his eyes. The rock hits hard, and then. without doubt, it begins to skip. It begins to dance. It jumps around in splendor across the pond. And then as suddenly as it began- it sinks. The boy sits.

The boy wonders if like the rock he could skip across the pond. If he could simply dance across the water without stopping and make it to the otherside. Maybe. The boy sighs again this time more deeply. He picks up another rock and throws it lightly- it sinks- into the water- dead before it danced. Just a rock.

The sky begins to darken- the sun started to hide- the shadows grew longer- and the boy decided it was time to leave. He got up slowly, with no true desire to leave. He brushed dirt off his pants and the wiped his face- smearing dirt all over. He began to walk away. The boy saw- out in the distance- kids playing. They were his age. They were laughing. The boy wasn't laughing, nor was he playing- in fact he was beginning to cry. Slow familiar tears that are all too common an occurrence. The boy looked back at the pond- he smiled just a little too long.

The boy began to run- no sprint- towards the pond. His heart was racing- his eyes were wide- his legs like a puma ready to pounce. And he lept- no threw- himself onto the pond. His feet met the water and he was propelled upwards. He faced sky and laughed out loud- the tears in his eyes now meant no sadness. The boy then began to drop and his heart sunk down deeper than ever before. His eyes were glued to the pond he was bound to meet as he plummeted downwards. He met the water.

He ascended once more- like Hercules to Olympus. And then he fell once more. And he rose once more. And now he is not falling and rising, but rather skipping over the pond. Dancing like a ballerina- fluttering like a swan- both poised and elegant. The boy lurches his body forward and aims for the other side of the pond- he is in control. He skips and flies and dances and glides and pounces across the pond until he is on the other side. Once he reaches the other side- he falls.

Everything is dark now- he can't see a thing. He smiles to himself, and raises his arms out high- maybe to the moon or maybe to the stars. He laughs loudly and then quietly and suddenly he isn't laughing at all. Alone- he is still alone.

A rock thumps on the other side of the pond- the boy jumps and lets out a panicked yelp. Then he hears- across the pond- the sweetest voice. It's alright- I saw what you did. He looks across and and sees a girl- his age- looking straight at him. Her eyes are wide and she is smiling ear to ear. The boy smiles back at her, unsure if she can see him still. He hears Come across wontcha. He nods his head slowly and tries to run across the pond once more- he sinks- like a rock- a really heavy rock.

In the cold dark water the boy smiles- a bright secret smile just for himself. He then surfaces- and now he swimming through muck- lots and lots of it. By the time he makes it across to the other side he is covered head to toe in slime and muck. The girl looks at him quizzically. Why didn't you skip across. He puts up his hands. Maybe he didn't have to, maybe he didn't need to flutter like a swan or dance like a ballerina to feel that he was important. Maybe he just needed somebody watching from the other side.

He reached out his hand, Im Tom. The girl looked at him with a smile on her face and laughed No, you're wet. Tom looked away blushing in the darkness. The girl looked back at him Im, Im Mary. Tom looked at her and said No, you're my new friend. The girl looked away and blushed. Let's walk home- new friend, it's getting late. Tom looked at her with a wild look in his eyes and spoke softly I think I rather skip back.