Noah and the High Diving Board

Every Saturday morning, Noah went to the pool with Dad. Ever since spring, he’d been able to swim without floaties: a whole length of the pool, like a little frog. But at the far end stood the high diving board. A blue ladder, a long white board that bounced a little, and kids who jumped off, splash, and came up laughing.

“Today’s the day,” Noah said. He put his hand on the ladder. One rung, two rungs, three rungs… At the top, the board looked much longer, and the water much farther down. His legs went wobbly, like wet noodles. His heart went thump, thump, thump.

Noah stayed up there a long time, holding on to the rail. Then he climbed back down, rung by rung. His cheeks felt hot. He went and sat on the edge of the pool next to Dad. “I’ll never be able to do it,” he mumbled.

Dad wrapped the towel around his shoulders. “You made it all the way to the top today,” was all he said. Noah didn’t answer. He watched the other kids. And he noticed something. A girl jumped off the low board three times before she went to the high one. A boy climbed the high dive, looked down at the water… and climbed back down, calm as could be, not embarrassed one bit.

Noah sat up straight. “I have a plan,” he told Dad. With the tip of his finger, he drew a staircase with four steps on the wet tiles. “One Saturday, one step. Step one: jump in from the side. Step two: the low board. Step three: climb the high dive, just to look.” He put his finger on the last step, but he didn’t say anything. That one, he was saving for the end.

Step one was right away. Noah stood at the edge of the pool. His legs were shaking a little, so he came up with a trick of his own: he held up one finger, then two, then three, and on the third finger, he jumped. Splash! He came up sputtering, and he did it again. One finger, two fingers, three fingers… Splash!

The next Saturday was step two: the low board. One finger, two fingers, three fingers… Splash! Noah jumped five times. Every splash was a little easier than the one before.

The Saturday after that was step three. Noah climbed the high dive just to look. He walked out to the middle of the board, gazed down at the bright blue water, and climbed back down. This time his cheeks weren’t hot at all: climbing down was part of his plan.

Then came the fourth Saturday, and the last step. Noah climbed up. His legs were still a little wobbly, but less than the first time. He walked all the way to the end of the board. Down below, Dad waved, and the lifeguard gave him a nod. Noah held up one finger… two fingers… three!

He jumped. For a moment, he was flying. Then, SPLASH! The water was cool and full of bubbles. Noah popped up, blinked… and burst out laughing. “Again!” he shouted, swimming toward the side.

At the bottom of the ladder, a little boy was hesitating, gripping the rail with both hands. He looked all the way up, then down at his feet. Noah remembered that look: it had been his own, not so long ago. He walked over. “Want to see my staircase?” With his finger, he drew the four steps on the tiles. “You don’t have to do it all today. You can start from the side.”

They went to the edge of the pool together. In the water, the little boy’s mom held out her arms. Noah showed him how to hold up his fingers, one, two, three. The little boy held up his own, a bit shaky. One finger, two fingers, three fingers… Splash! Splash! They popped up side by side, and the little boy shouted with a big grin, “Again!” Noah grinned too. He knew that word very well.

That night, Noah’s hair still smelled a little like the pool. In bed, he closed his eyes and saw it all again: the white board, the blue water, the bubbles, and the little boy at the edge of the pool. Next Saturday, maybe he would try a cannonball. Or maybe not. He would decide up there, calmly, counting on his fingers.