A beautiful failure

My father once told me : courage is the absence of fear. 

And ever since then I have always measured my courage and that of my family against those words. 

The more time passed, the more absurd that quote seemed. 

Every time I was supposed to be courageous and fear came over me, I would tell myself that I had already lost at the exercise of courage. I would give up and the situation would take over. 

I thought that human beings who succeeded were superhuman. 

I still think so, but only since I met Basil something has changed. 

I still remember that meeting, which was nothing extraordinary. It was a very common day. I was watching the quiet calm of the poto-poto market on Sunday morning. 

Sitting right next to my mother's business location, I was transported by the charm of this place that has remained the same since my birth.

And he appeared with a smile as long as his politeness. Although we were the same age, he approached me with respect. I figured he suspected I knew the owner of the shelf he was about to climb. 

He gave me a courteous hello. In the blink of an eye, he was on the table. By the time my gaze landed back on him, he was leaping to a nearby table. By the time I figured out what was going on, he was already up from his fall. 

In less than 3 minutes, he repeated the same scenario three times in a row. Each fall was more spectacular than the previous one. The last one was so violent that his body remained inert. I rushed towards him. My hands wanted to turn him over, when I heard : " It's okay, I'm used to it ! "

He got to his feet more slowly than before. For the first time since he appeared, I noticed something other than his stubbornness. 

He was limping. Both of his legs could barely hold on to the ground. I quickly realized that this detail had nothing to do with what had just happened. But I also noticed the multiple scars on his arms and face. I was confused between whether he was stupid or brave. 

I couldn't help it. I asked him : What are you doing ?

My concern ran up against a wall of silence.

I felt this as disregard and said : if you want to kill yourself, please don't do it in front of my mother's shelf.

He turned around and let out a laugh that broke the ice. He began to explain to me what it was all about and his motives. I understood that it was a sport created and popularized by the street children of Brazzaville. He was training to join the legendary team of Poto-poto nicknamed "the children of the air". I could see in his eyes how talented the team members were. He especially wanted to be part of a family that he never had. 

I can't explain it, but I was attracted to this discipline. I don't even know if I can call it that. What fascinated me was not the risk but the beauty of the gesture. The idea that one day he could fly like a bird. This image agitated the sensitive points of my face. Even if it meant jumping from one table to another. 

I sacrificed every Sunday that followed to train with Basil in the hope that he would be good enough to make the selection.

Lying in bed, I thought about it all night. In the morning I had a hard time with my parents. They didn't want me to go out. I was afraid but my desire to support my friend was greater.

I found a way to escape my mother's vigilance.

I spotted him from a distance, he was walking along carrying a burden on his legs. I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. But he was unperturbed in his progress.

The start of the race was coming. The length of the market shelf lines stretched for a long distance. The levels of difficulty depended on each line of tables. The competition was to continue over 10 lines of 20 tables.

We were five marked by color. I represented yellow, Basil proudly wore green. White, black and red were distributed to the other candidates.

During the race, the adrenaline level rose and so did the distance to jump, as I was in third place just behind Basil. Red was still in first place. We still had a twenty tables chain to run. Out of breath, we had never jumped so many tables in so little time. 

This race was our pinnacle. This was my moment to prove something to myself. There were still ten more tables to go. The white and black had dropped out. The difficulty level was becoming unbearable. Only Blue, Basil and I were left. The Green passed first due to a slight hesitation of the Blue.

It was noon. We could hear the grumbling of the bellies. We were at the end. Soaking each one of us from the pool of our sweats, we were breathing like a machine to blow the air. With five tables to go, the worry of missing lunch was adding to our troubles. 

Paralyzed at the level of the second last shelf, the hands on the knees to breathe with all our strength. The distance between the two tables was enough to freak us out. 

For a moment, I felt like time stopped.

Fear was present. So was the desire to surpass ourselves.

Confronted, after so much effort, with the choice of giving up or giving more.

The eyes of the legendary team members, not far from the shelf, were scanning our intentions.

Basil took a few steps back and paused. I instinctively understood what he wanted to do. I followed him and we jumped.

I could feel my legs and arms flying. For a second I thought : he did it... I did it... Yes we did !

The next second I felt a loss of altitude like a plane crash but faster. The moment my face was about to kiss the asphalt floor of the market, the fear left me. I didn't feel anything anymore, I only saw the ground. And then : pow...

I had lost awareness.

When I woke up and opened my eyes, my blurred vision was gradually recovering. I could see a female figure sitting next to me. It was my mother. She was waiting for me to wake up. I was lying on a mat in the yard of the house, not far from the pigeon cage. It was empty, the pigeons had not yet returned. I felt a pain and irritation coming from my left eye. It was dangerously swollen. 

Furious and worried, she asked me: " How do you feel ? "

Stunned, I answered: bad ! 

And I asked her the only thing that mattered to me at that moment: what about Basil ? How did I get home? 

She answered : " Who ? " I repeated the name despite my pain.

" I don't know who you mean. The only thing I remember is a group of kids who brought you back unconscious. "

" By the way, what possessed you to leave me with your father to go and do something stupid, tell me ? And if it was serious ? Don't ever do that to me again ? "

I was speechless and only nodded.

" From now on, I forbid you to participate in this stupid race. Do you understand ? "

Yes mother !

A month later, I ran into Basil again. Seeing the long cast on his arm and the bruises on his face, I knew what I had feared since my fall.

He rushed over to me and said, " I'm so glad to see you. "

He smiled slightly as he looked into my eyes. And I said : I'm sorry, I know how much you wanted to win !

He grabs my shoulder and says : I've been thinking about that line all the time since we fell.

" You'll never know if you don't try. "

He turned his gaze to the chain of tables and let out a long sigh.

" I will try again soon. "