Not Waving But Drowning

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Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he's dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning. 

-Stevie Smith "Not Waving But Drowning"

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BECKETT

"I'll see you tomorrow morning," I told Scarlett, as I walked towards the gym for my 6th period P.E. 

I had chosen wisely when I chose her to be my partner. Yes, it had been in a moment of panic, but my impulsive decision served me well. As compared to her wild red curls, she was quiet and down to earth. She didn't talk much but when she did, her words were never wasted. She was calm in her approach and demeanor as compared to the many over-energized and fake students I had met in my two weeks here. 

"And we can just touch up the final presentation, make any changes as needed," she said in a slight Scottish accent. She had been born in a small town in Minnesota but had moved to Scotland when she was 8. And when she moved back to the U.S. for junior high, she was left with a slight accent.  

She smiled and waved at me as we parted ways. I waved back. 

After changing into my gym clothes - a grey tank top with black lettering spelling out Millenium and grey shorts - I made my way into the gym. As we all stood in roll call, I looked around. 

Sasha, who was all the way in the front, turned and waved at me. I guess high school had sobered her up. She looked like a typical, giddy high school student. Noah nodded to me. In the line next to her, I spotted Jeremy. I forgot I had P.E. with him. His attention was forward. His arms crossed at the chest. 

"Attention!" Mr. Hutchinson barked. He was a well-built man, veins bulging out in his arms and neck. His white hair was cut to the skull. His eyes a piercing green. He was a retired army sergeant who made the gym floor into a battlefield.  He yelled at us like we were soldiers in training. Everybody called him the Hulk because he was so large and busty. 

"I'm not going to bother taking roll because if you're absent you're dead," his voice boomed. 

"Yes, Peterson," he said, head turning to a raised hand.

"Are we playing basketball again?"

"Stupid question, Peterson! Get out of my class!" 

Peterson shriveled up and practically ran out of the gym. No one dared laugh. You did something that Hutchinson didn't like and it was 10 laps around the gym. You stopped to breathe and you were dead. 

"No. We are NOT playing basketball. We were taking it easy because the Principal said we should all get to know each other. You know how you get to know someone, really get to know them? When you've cried, sweat, and bled together. Basketball is for pussy's. Starting from today until the end of the year we're starting survival training. You fall down and you're dead. You slow down and you're dead. Andrews," he said, eyes turning to someone in the first row. "What happens when you give up?"

"You're, um, dead, sir?"

"Louder, Andrews, you're not a 90 year old grandma. Put some force into it."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Andrews yelled out.

"Now what happens when you give up?"

"You're dead, sir!"

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