Chapter 6. Help, I’m Drowning
Arriving at the academy gates the following morning, The guard instructed Marcia to go directly to the Vice Commandant’s office. “Go right into her office, she’s expecting you,” came from the uniformed receptionist. Knocking, I saw a light breakfast buffet on the table nearest the Vice Commandant’s window and a male officer standing nearby. The male looked like an older version of Lt. Drakov, and I had another of her moments.
“Brigadier Mykel Drakov, I would very much like you to make the acquaintance of Instructor Marcia Shevat,” Col. Drakov introduced the pair. “Instructor Shevat, my husband Brigadier Mykel Drakov, our Mykel is named after.”
I bowed, hands at my side. As I was still a public penitent and nude, I could not salute. The usual protocol of kneeling before a superior was waived in the military, as was the kissing of the person administering punishment’s boots. It was both viewed as not within the military traditions. The Brigadier acknowledged the formal greeting with a nod and gestured toward the table.
“First turn around, Instructor, so the Brigadier may see your discipline completed,” the Vice Commandant chuckled. I complied with the order, the ten purple stripes across her otherwise white backside showing up dramatically. She then took a cup of tea and a pear from the tray near the window and sat on a pillowed and toweled chair.
“I am a military man and not one for mincing words, the point the colonel wishes brought to your attention,” the Brigadier voiced in a quiet yet authoritative tone.” Our son is attracted to you, Instructor Shevat, and has asked our permission to court you. We have two concerns that we would hope for you to assuage. First, do you have feelings for our son? Second, would you be willing to trade your life in America for one as a Danubian housewife? The relationship settles into one of serious permanence?”
“I genuinely like your son. He is sweet and intelligent, makes me laugh, and taught me a great deal about the military culture in Danubia. I would be honored if he wished to court me. As to your second question, Sir, I have no answer. I have not yet begun my course work for the first semester of my exchange student status, and while I love the regimen here at the academy. I do not know if I could balance being courted, instructing here, and taking course work there.” I spoke honestly.
“We have spoken to the exchange student counselor at the university, Marcia, “Magda Drakov stated, “they have no objections to you doing your course work here, as your study of athletics and kinesiology would be the same in either institution. You will have access to our pool for your training whenever you need it, and work on coursework can also be done here in Danubian culture and history.
“Your job as Instructor here entitles you to take classes at the academy free of charge in exchange for your Aquatics Training,” added Mykel Drakov. “So if you want to stay in Danubia beyond your student visa time, you have a job and schooling to justify your extension.”
“A very tempting and interesting offer indeed, Brigadier,” I turned to the Vice Commandant, “How many courses would I need to take here to qualify me as a student?”
“Three semesters will give you the twelve contact hours your university requires,” the Vice Commandant replied. “During the week, we would like you to accept housing in the unmarried female staff barracks, as academy hours are more erratic than our public transportation allows. Our military priest and priestess assure us that you may continue your public penance while with the Siminov family and be absolved of it while on campus. Therefore, except for your poolside teaching duties, we would like you to wear this.” She handed me a garment bag.
Marcia removed the garment. It was a modest caftan, in the military brown of the Danubian armed forces, the mandarin collar at the neck, pinched to a princess’s waist and coming to the floor, stopping just at my ankles. A military belt for the loops above the hips of the caftan.
The Danubian script letter I was on the epaulets, where the rank insignia would have been, and two medals hung from the left breast pocket. One was the Commendation of Heroic Action in Saving a Life award for the incident with Cadet Kara. The other was the Danubian Academician Second Class for her development of the aquatic training and water safety program. Soft fore and aft cap with the Danubian military griffon crest on the right and the letter I on the left completed the look.
Marcia slipped the caftan on, still barefooted, and was surprised at the lightweight feel of the fabric, which looked so coarsely military but felt like silk against her body. “As a symbolic gesture toward your penance, you may remain barefoot until the cold weather sets in after the Day of the Dead at the Fall Equinox.” The Vice Commandant added.
Giving the first to chest salute and having it returned by her superiors for the first time (nude penitents do not salute) felt odd to me, another protocol I would have to remember in the future. Worse as she left, the enlisted receptionist immediately jumped to her feet and saluted. I returned it and told the girl to return to her duties.
Mykel Drakov, Lieutenant, Danubian military, looked at me in my uniform and did not know whether to laugh or to cry. To laugh for the sheer joy of the woman for whom he had affection being in the uniform of his life’s work or cry as now he could no longer openly stare at my beautiful body and drink in the woman whose essence made his life worthwhile.
I saluted him, and he responded in kind. How best to normalize things with the now clothed Instructor? Ask me if I had enough time for a cup of tea in the officers’ club. The next shock was bumping into Cadet Kara and her cadre. Salutes, “Doc-Doc Instructor Shevat,” echoed from the group. Lt. Drakov and I entered the Officer’s Club. This was a new experience since nude penitents could not be in the officers’ club.
Over tea and biscuits, the couple spoke of all aspects of their duties. I explained my incorporation of water safety, water rescue, and basic lifeguard techniques in the various cadet classes. I mentioned that several cadets had approached her, with permission, about starting intramural competitive swims. I asked Mykel if this was acceptable in society.
Which physical culture was approved; competitive athletics were almost unknown? Mykel sipped his tea and thought for a moment, then suggested, “Why not come to dinner on Sunday at my parent’s, and we’ll all discuss this at that time?”
“I should go see the Siminov family it’s been almost three weeks since we’ve broken bread, and I hate to admit it, but I miss Kivar and the twins,” I responded. “We shall go together and visit your host family for an early lunch then, Marcia, and return to the academy for a late dinner with my parents.” Mykel made it sound so final that I simply nodded in agreement. I had three more aquatic training classes to finish that day and five scheduled for Saturday, and then she was free. Mykel was taking a group of senior cadets on a night exercise and would be back on Sunday after 0800 hours. So, it was agreed. Phone calls were made and the Siminovs and the Drakovs would both have guests at meals on Sunday.