Back to Culture Clash - Chapter 03
Chapter 4: Getting Into the Swim of Things
Marcia was up early and learned that the rest of the house was already
up and about. Cleaned me up and went into the kitchen buffet on the
countertops, choosing from fruits, fresh bread, and jam spreads that
looked homemade.
"Well, sleepy head," Poppa smiled broadly at the American girl, "not
quite ready to keep Danubian farmer hours yet?"
"Sorry, Poppa," Marcia used to be familiar with Ivan knowing that as a
guest, she was considered one of his children, "I must still be shaking
off jet lag. "In the states, this time of the morning in the pool for
two hours, stretching and doing laps," I said.
Kaleen offered, "Well, the pool is just out back." Martina countered,
"She needs a real pool, silly, the kind that the military and the
National Police have at their academies, not a tiny family backyard
affair." Kaleen almost whispered, "I forgot" the enthusiasm and
happiness drained from her voice.
"About that, Marcia," Ursula offered, "we can arrange for Ivanka to take
you on your first day and introduce you to the academy instructors at
the Military Academy of Danubia. Unfortunately, the academy is just
outside the yellow line, beyond which Ivanka now may not travel.
Poppa and I have other commitments and cannot go, but we have written
directions for you with the trolleys to take and the stops to transfer
if you do not mind going by yourself. Poppa has also written a letter of
introduction for you to show the guards at the gate. The look she gave
was sorrow that her daughter's actions had again impacted the life of
her American guest.
Marcia looked at Kivar and the twins, then at Ursula Siminov, and
offered," Momma, is there any reason why Kivar and the girls cannot
escort me today? I would be glad if the company keeps me from getting
lost knowing of a pastry shop where I could buy a nice dessert for
tonight's dinner." Ivanka looked at Marcia and explained that the twins
were too young to venture into the; outer reaches of the city during
their period of public penance. "For them, it is home, school, temple
activities, and play within the neighborhood unless a parent is
escorting them," Ivanka concluded.
She then continued," Kivar, on the other hand, has passed his fourteenth
birthday and is considered a pre-adult under Danubian law. He has
slightly more freedom of movement than the twins. If you desire an
escort, sure Kivar would be willing." Ivanka suggested that Kivar had no
wiggle room in the matter; he would smile, volunteer his services, and
make no fuss. Marcia wondered what the older sister held over her
brother's head to compliance.
"So, what do you say, Kivar," Marcia asked cheerfully, "would you do
that for me, at least for today I get to know the routes to take?"
Giving a look that suggested he'd rather have a root canal done without
anesthesia, Kivar muttered, "Sure, fine, whatever."
"Yep," Marcia thought," this one is a moody teenage brother, this
before, this passive-aggressive attitude." She offered me, "Do you have
a friend you would like to come along with, Kivar?"
"None whom I wish to see me dressed the way I am," Kivar admitted
ruefully, "Particularly not Lydia." Kaleen risked her life to mutter,
"Kivar likes Lydia, and she is in his class at school and is quite the
curviest girl in his grade level. She did not see the sweet roll Kivar
launched at her. Martina said, ‘Duck,' and she did so instinctively.
Momma decided to let the punishment fit the crime, "Kaleen, please do
call over to Lydia's and see if she is free to help our guest find her
way in the city." Kivar was stuck, two females to escort, both of whom
stirred teenage yearnings in his loins and nothing to hide his reactions
behind. "Ah, too bad, well maybe another time," Kaleen spoke into the
phone and hung up.
"She cannot go with you, Kivar" her family is doing an outing at the
lake north of the city today. She was going to invite you to go, but I
told her you were busy with family duties." If Kivar did not retaliate
against Kaleen in the future it would only be because she never left
herself alone long enough for him to get his hands on her.
It took almost ninety minutes to get from the Siminov home to the
National Military Academy of the Danubian Republic. Kivar handed the
letter of introduction to the guard at the gate. The officer came to the
gate he asked, "You are the American swimming athlete, Marcia Shevat?"
"Yes, sir, I am." Marcia, and then went on," The son of my host family, Kivar Siminov,
was kind enough to escort me on the unfamiliar public transportation
system. May he be allowed to wait for me while I train?"
"Of course, though I'm afraid the pool is set up for athletic spectators
in your homeland." The young lieutenant, Drakov, as Marcia read the name
badge correctly, escorted them about seventy-five meters inside the
perimeter fence to a building that looked, from its exterior, like a
former palace. A marble entryway with names and dates etched into the
floor clearly showed that ‘Fallen Defenders of Danubia Memorial Hall'
had a reason for its existence. "Come," Lt. Drakov directed, "the
natatorium is one level down."
They arrived at the pool level in time to witness the final moments of a
defensive combat training exercise. Male and female cadets struggled in
shallow water to apply and break various hand-to-hand combat holds on
one another. Lt. Drakov remarked that as the cadets became more
proficient. The class would move into deeper water and would be able to
touch the bottom as they fought.
The Danubian budget for combat simulation training in the pool and not
used for recreation or athletics. For that reason, the cadets were in
the water in their battle dress uniforms.
Combat training and the mandatory nudity for swimmers were for them.
Only Marcia Shevat would swim laps, as an athlete swimmer would do so in
the nude. Two lanes of the pool had roped off for Marcia. The one
closest to the wall, where the most turbulence existed, would be empty.
Marcia would swim one lane in the five spots in most Olympic-size pools.
Kivar found out of the draft and was relatively dry to sit.
He watched Marcia stretch on the starter block provided. Marcia stood
upon it and crouched into her starting position. When she launched
herself torpedo-like from it, dolphin kicking beneath the surface to
rise in a steady freestyle stroke a third of the distance down the pool,
she did not realize that all activity in the cadet class had ceased. All
eyes in the natatorium were on Marcia as she cut through the water,
perfectly timing herself at the end of each length of the pool to flip
and turn her way back the way she had just come, her breathing coming
rhythmically with every third stroke.
She repeated the processed lap after lap until her count she had done
her requisite three kilometers. She then pulled herself out of the water
to the deep end. Shack her body to get the excess water from her body as
a wet dog might. Then walked from the deep end to the shallow, barely
breathing hard. She neither expected nor knew what to do with the
applause that broke out; nor why the chant, "Doc-Doc Marcia," echoed
loudly from the pool.
While she was swimming her laps, Lieutenant Drakov had spoken to the
training officer and the class about who Marcia was and her reason for
using the pool. Later, Lt. Drakov explained to Marcia that while all
Danubians expected to swim. There were no competitive sports venues in
Danubia where one could train to be a swimmer such as Marcia. He was
sure that many cadets and instructors would be asking questions in the
coming months, looking to improve individual performance and perhaps
even challenging Marcia to informal competition.
Marcia responded that it was always better for a swimmer to have others
against whom to pace would be happy to spend time in the water with
those who wished to learn how to breathe, turn and time themselves as
repayment for the favor of the use of Danubia's fine aquatic center.
"We will see you tomorrow at about this time, then, Marcia Shevat?" Lt. Draco asked.
"If that is convenient with you, Sir, then yes," Marcia
responded. "You respond as one who has served in the military, Marcia
Shevat," Lt. Drakov stated, "Are you a veteran of your armed services?"
"No, Sir," Marcia responded, "My father was a career military, a Staff
Sergeant in the Infantry branch of our Army. I grew up on military posts
and learned military courtesy as part of my childhood education, Sir." Draco
nodded, "I see, and are you also familiar with other aspects of military
training and discipline?"
"My father was fond of saying I was born with the eye and hand of a
sniper," Marcia responded, "I believe I can still put a grouping into
the Q on a Quantico qualification target that would look like a single
round passed through the paper."
Draco smiled as he led Marcia and Kivar down a different corridor than
which they had used to enter the building. They passed through a thick
door where a Sergeant handed them safety glasses and hearing protection.
Draco upholstered his sidearm in the port of the firing range and leaned
over to Marcia, "Show me" you can fire this weapon.
The Gun she was handed was beautifully maintained for a post-World War
Two Walther P-38. Marcia dropped the magazine and checked to see if
eight rounds were loaded. Drawing back the weapon slide, Marcia saw
Drakov carried round in the chamber. Not a practice of which her father
would have approved, she thought.
She checked the action last time as Drakov added five more magazines to
the tray at her shooting position. Gripping the weapon in a modified
Weaver grip and waiting for the range master to turn the targets, Marcia
drew a long breath and exhaled slowly.
The target swung was a ‘no shoot' of a woman holding an umbrella and a
weapon. Another breath and the next target presented a hooded male with
an AK-47. Marcia quickly fired four rounds into the target, two into the
chest, one into the groin, and one between the eyes. Simultaneously the
last round fired target pivoted away another popped up. Another bad guy,
another of the spent magazines, reloaded it.
The process continued until she shot one hundred rounds of ammunition at
targets varying in distance between seven and fifty meters. The range
master quickly flashed results back to Drakov, ninety-nine out of one
hundred perfectly on target. He also informed Drakov that the last round
‘may' have entered through a keyhole-type hole caused by a misshaped
bullet. She entering the weapon target would be given credit for perfect
scoring.
"Very nice," Draco said, with a straight face hiding the fact he did not
believe the girl could shoot as well as she swam. "You shall indeed be
an asset to this school on many levels, Marcia Shevat. Tomorrow you will
have your identity photo taken for your official duties here." Draco
continued," you shall be an Apprentice Aquatics Instructor."
Marcia was stunned on her second day in the country following being
stripped of everything that resembles clothing. Accepting her host
family's violation of full nudity and now has a job with the Danubian
military. This country is indeed a strange new world, Marcia thought to
herself, not a bad one by any means, but nonetheless.
Kivar was, for the first time in her life knowing him, at a loss of
words and attitude. He had never seen anything as cleanly athletic as
Marcia Shevat slicing through the waters of the military pool. Nor had
he ever seen anyone, male or female, handle a handgun with the
proficiency Marcia had shown at the pistol range. She had elevated
herself from an embarrassing lust object to warrior goddess in a single
afternoon. He could not wait until he could tell his family and friends
what was in that pool and on the firing range. To make sure Marcia
needed an escort every day went there.
Kivar burst through the front door of the Siminov home four steps ahead
of Marcia when they finished the walk from the trolley stop. Marcia
found him and realized he had cornered his mother and was gushing forth
factoids faster than the parent could comprehend the child's words.
Ursula asked what seemed to be the problem and responded, "I went to the
academy. Kivar was a great help with directions and transfers. I met Lt.
Drakov, who escorted me to the pool and swam my laps, impressing some
cadets who offered me a job."
Marcia had to repeat the story as Ivanka arrived home from her job. As
Ivan returned home from his and finally for the twins who had played
soccer all afternoon, he tired and took a nap, awakening just before
Ursula called everyone to the table for dinner.
"Well, congratulations, Officer Marcia Shevat, "Ivan said and threw her
a very sloppy salute, sitting at the head of the dinner table. "Poppa, I
do not understand," Marcia replied.
"Marcia, even an Apprentice Instructor at a military academy with rank.
Be considered the lowest level officer but would still outrank the
cadets you would train. That means you will be the equivalent of a
Signet, subaltern, ensign, or a rank like that in your military system.
Perhaps, not officially on the books for the Danubian military, but your
title would carry the weight of such a rank."
After dinner, Marcia excused herself to go to her room and study some
Internet sites concerned with water safety training and swimming
instruction. Then it was early enough to be up early enough to get to
the military academy and to get her photo identification processed along
with a short employment form. At the deep end of the pool, another class
assembled. To jump into the water with full packs and uniforms and swim
to the surface as part of survival training.
Day three passed quietly. On day four, Marcia began demonstrating water
safety techniques to a class of military instructors. Those instructors
would then teach the swimming techniques to the cadets watching to
assure the correct methodology. Day five through day twenty-two passed
almost as day four had, except one event toward the end of the
twenty-second day changed Marcia's direction again.
A female cadet had done the survival portion of her test perfectly,
except she had lost her identity tags from around her neck. She had
remained behind while her class went to change into dry uniforms. Then
had to jump back into the pool to search for her tags. Finding them, she
put them around her neck and tried to push off toward the surface. Her
battle dress pant lousing laces have sucked into the drains in the deep
end she could not surface.
Marcia was up top walking to the doors when Kivar yelled and waved, "She
did not come up, Marcia, she did not come up," and pointed to the middle
of the pool, deep end. Marcia dove back into the pool at the bottom and
located the girl.
Putting her mouth on the cadet's blew air into the other girl to give a
few more seconds to her rescue. Working the belt and buttons on the
girl's pants, Marcia helped her to kick free of the bottom of her
uniform and pulled her to the surface. The cadet's classmates, noticing
she was missing, had returned to the pool to witness the cross-chest
carry of their classmate by the Apprentice Aquatics Instructor.
"Play along," Marcia whispered when the girl nodded. Marcia said, "Okay,
cadet, that is how you extract a victim who has become entangled in an
underwater obstacle, any other questions?" The Cadet wisely answered,
"No ma'am," followed by," Just one ma'am, can you get my pants back for
me before they get sucked into the drain?"
In seconds the pants were in the grateful hands of Cadet. Marcia was on
her way, still drying off, to pick up her identification. It looked like
a dog tag of two metal discs hung from a chain. One contained a
microchip with data concerning the wearer and a locator that used
satellite technology to pinpoint a military member's location.
The other had Marcia's image laser engraved on one side, an electronic
chip embedded will allow Marcia access to several buildings and offices
on the academy grounds, including the pool, 24/7.
As not considered jewelry necessary for her employment, the tags didn't
break her vow of public penance. Instead, they had become her uniform.
She left them with the building guard as she entered and gathered them
from the guard arriving at the base or when she was done in the pool and
going to other areas of the post.
