Double Dutch

by Sharon M. Draper

  “Yeah, two or three of them have called. I think I’ll be in the paper tomorrow—with my hair a mess! But that’s not what I’m talking about. I just got off the phone with the Tollivers!”

  “No way!” Delia was blown away by this bit of information. “What did they say? Did you call them, or did they call you?”

  “I called them. I figured I needed to thank them properly. And I felt bad because all of us have spent so much time being scared of them that we never even tried to tell them apart.”

  “You’re right, Yo Yo. Tell me what you talked about.”

  “Well, Tabu was on the upstairs phone, and Titan was downstairs, and after I thanked them upside down and backward, I asked them to tell me more about how they found me. Tabu said they ran out of the classroom because they were scared and didn’t want any of the kids to see them that way. Then things started falling from the ceiling, and they didn’t know where to go. The walls kinda caved in on them, and they were probably both out cold for a while.”

  “So they weren’t following you or chasing you like you thought?”

  “No, they stumbled over me in the darkness after they got themselves together and tried to find their way out. Dumb luck, I guess.”

  “But what took so long?” Delia asked. “We waited for what seemed like hours—we thought you were dead, Yo Yo.” Delia shuddered.

  “I did, too, for a minute,” Yolanda replied with a short laugh. “Titan said huge pieces of wall or ceiling or something had fallen all around them, and it took the two of them quite a while to move stuff out of the way so they could find their way out of the building.”

  “Why didn’t they call for help?” Delia asked.

  “They told me they figured they could get out by themselves, and they also didn’t think many people would care that they were missing,” Yolanda said.

  “That’s sad,” Delia commented. “But what made them decide to rescue you?”

  “I was there, so they just carried me out with them. ‘No big deal,’ Tabu told me.”

  “Awesome!” Delia whispered. “So what else did they say?”

  “We talked about stuff they like and what music they listen to. They like all the same stuff we do—same music, same groups, same TV shows. It was amazing. Then I asked Tabu what he meant when he told me to win at Double Dutch.”

  “That blew me away when he told you that this afternoon,” Delia said. “What did he say?”

  “You’re not gonna believe this!” Yolanda began.

  “Is this another one of your lies, Yo Yo?” Delia asked, laughing.

  “No, girl, this is for real. I couldn’t make this up in a million years. Titan told me that he and Tabu both liked me, and they knew everything about me—my birthday, my favorite color, and how much I love Double Dutch. Can you believe that? He said they were at the city and the state tournaments—sitting in the bleachers, watching me jump.”

  “Freaky!” Delia said. “I saw them up there that one time, but who woulda thought they were watching you! What did you tell them?”

  “What could I say? Men are just attracted to me!”

  “Get outta here!”

  “Hey, my mom is calling. She wants to baby me some more, and I’m gonna let her. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Yolanda said cheerfully.

  “Okay, later. I can’t wait to see tomorrow’s newspaper! Our school, and you, and the not-so-terrible Tollivers are the talk of the town!” Delia hung up the phone. She knew she couldn’t read tomorrow’s paper, but the pictures would be wonderful.

  nineteen

  DELIA WAS TREMENDOUSLY HAPPY. SHE DIDN’T HAVE TO go to school. She didn’t have to take the state proficiency test. And she didn’t have to worry about reading at all. Between extra Double Dutch practices, getting their things ready for the hotel trip, and keeping up with all the news reports about the tornado and its damage, there was little time to reflect on the future beyond the coming weekend.

  Yolanda recuperated quickly and was thrilled that her picture, along with the twins’, not only made the front pages of the Cincinnati Enquirer and the Cincinnati Post newspapers, but would also be featured in People magazine as well.

  Thursday night the team checked into the Westin Hotel, along with several other teams from around the country. “There’re the kids from New York,” whispered Yolanda. “Stan’s Pepper Steppers—they’re really good.”

  “Yeah, I remember,” Delia answered. “South Carolina always has a really good team too. Isn’t that them just getting out of that bus?”

  “I hope that cute dude who can jump so fast comes this year. He is so fine!” Yolanda said with a grin.

  “Don’t you think you have enough trouble with twins in love with you?” Delia asked, laughing.

  “Who said anything about love? I just like to be admired!” Yolanda responded. “But the Tollivers did say they would come on Saturday to watch us.”

  “Good. You know, one of the teams last year had twin boys on its doubles team. They were dynamite. You think the Tollivers might want to try to jump Double Dutch with us?”

  “Who knows?” Yolanda shrugged and looked up at Bomani, who handed her a room key. “Let’s check out the room. I want to see what’s on HBO.”

  “You’ve got HBO at home!” Randy teased as he tossed his bag onto his shoulder.

  “It’s different in a hotel room,” Yolanda reasoned. “My mother isn’t here to tell me to turn it off!”

  Yolanda and Delia, carrying more than they would ever need for two days, pushed the elevator button for the seventh floor. Misty and Charlene shared the room next to them on one side, and Bomani and Randy were across the hall. The rest of the team and a few parents took most of the other rooms on that floor. The room was cool and perfect, the way their rooms at home would never be.

  “This is the life!” Yolanda sighed as she bounced on the bed, the remote control in her hand.

  “Hey, I’ve got a taste for some candy,” Delia said after she unpacked her things. “I think I’m going down to the lobby to get some Twizzlers or a Twix. Want something?”

  “Yeah, bring me a Hershey’s bar. It’s sweet and smooth and perfectly chocolate, just like me,” Yolanda answered.

  “That bump on your head must have been more serious than they thought,” Delia teased. “You’re trippin’.” She took the key and walked down the long, carpeted hall to the elevator. In the lobby she looked around, saw the little shop where candy was sold, then noticed another bus of Double Dutch teams unloading. She wandered outside to the loading area to see where this new group was from.

  The Canadian team, Delia realized. She remembered them—they were good. Several of their teams took first place last year. This was going to be the bomb, she thought excitedly. The Queen Bees are going to blow it up this year! Delia watched them unload, waving at the girls she remembered from last year, knowing they would be strong competitors.

  Delia looked up and down the busy street. She loved being downtown. It was so busy and full of life-it didn’t even seem like the same city she lived in, she thought. She wandered out to the curb, gazing at the announcements for rock concerts, comedy clubs, and political candidates that had been tacked to the telephone pole there, wishing once again that the words would make sense to her. The pole was pocked and gouged with staples and nails and holes from old announcements that had been replaced by new ones. Near the bottom was a typed sheet of white paper with a picture on it that caught her attention. It almost looked like . . . but it couldn’t be. Yes, it looked like Randy’s father! Delia gasped. What was Randy’s father doing on a poster?

  She ripped the paper off the pole and gazed at the fuzzy photo in front of her. It was definitely Randy’s father, unsmiling and looking a little confused, and a lot thinner than Delia remembered. He looks like a criminal, Delia thought, and was instantly ashamed for thinking it.

  What did it say? Tears of angry frustration filled her eyes. She really needed to be able to read this. She could read some of the sm
aller words, but not enough to patch together a sentence to figure out what the flyer said.

  So this is why Randy had acted so funny when she’d asked him about his father. And why he’d asked to borrow the money! His dad was in trouble. She wondered if he was running from the law, if he’d committed some terrible crime and was hiding from the police! No wonder Randy has been stressed!

  Delia checked a couple of the other telephone poles, but she saw no other papers like the one she held in her trembling hand. For a moment, she considered throwing it away, but she didn’t know what to do. Show Randy? But she felt he already knew his dad was in trouble—that’s why he’d been acting so weird. If she told Bomani or her mother, they’d have to call the police. Taking deep breaths to calm her beating heart, she decided the best thing to do was to help Randy keep it a secret. Randy would be glad she was such a good friend, Delia thought shakily.

  Satisfied with her decision, Delia folded the flyer several times and stuffed it into the pocket of her shorts. She headed back to the elevator, remembered the candy, bought several bars, and returned to the room.

  “What took you so long?” Yolanda asked. “I’m up here about to die from lack of chocolate in my bloodstream. The doctors told me that chocolate is good for my concussion.”

  “Uh, long line,” Delia said as she touched the folded paper in her pocket. “Oh, and the Canadian team is here. They’re looking good.”

  “Not as good as us!” Yolanda said as she licked her candy bar.

  “Why do you do that?” Delia asked, making a face of disgust.

  “‘Cause it freaks you out!” Yo Yo grinned. “Hey, Bomani called. He wants a team meeting in fifteen minutes. He said we get pizza afterward.”

  “Great! You’re not gonna lick the pizza, too, are you?” Delia laughed.

  “Now THAT’s disgusting!” Yolanda replied.

  At the team meeting Bomani discussed rules and gave them dozens of reminders. “Remember to keep your T-shirts tucked in at all times, ladies—fifteen-point deduction if you forget. And don’t forget, if you enter the ropes from the right, you must exit on the left. In the compulsories, thirty seconds for singles, forty for doubles, and make sure those knees come up waist-high! Watch out for penalty points, and aim for bonus points.” Finally, he said with fierce, passionate power in his voice, “Double Dutch is a TEAM sport, not an individual one. Each team is only as strong as the rope turners and the jumper or jumpers. Unless all parts of the team are working together like a machine, you will not be successful!”

  Delia had heard it all many times, but she listened with interest and tried to remember every suggestion that Bomani made. She had learned from past tournaments that sometimes it was the attention to little details that made the difference between first and second place. She tried not to think of the WANTED poster hidden in her pocket as she watched Randy in a corner of the room, ironing their team shirts for tomorrow. She knew it was the part of his job he liked the least, but every shirt would be crisp and perfect by morning.

  As Bomani passed out the pizza, he took the time to tell each girl how special he thought she was, how proud he was to have her on his team, and how proud he would be of her tomorrow, no matter how she scored. Delia and Yolanda smiled as broadly as the kids on the third-grade team because Bomani really meant what he said—Double Dutch made them all special.

  “You sure you’re okay to jump tomorrow, Yolanda?” Bomani asked for the fifteenth time as Yolanda and Delia were heading back to their room.

  “Honest, Bomani, I’m okay. My mom took me to the doctor again yesterday and he said I was fine. You know my mother wouldn’t even let me out of the house if she thought I was in any danger. I’m ready—just relax.”

  “Okay. Good. You two get some sleep now—breakfast is at seven. We have to be at the gym by eight-thirty for warm-ups,” Bomani told them. Delia waved to Randy as they left the room.

  She wondered again if she should tell him she knew about his dad. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t embarrass him like that. Could she tell Yolanda? No, that would be selling out a friend—telling his business to the world. She decided to wait until the tournament was over. Then maybe she could just let him know that if he needed anything, he could count on her. What she probably should do is throw the thing away—he’d never know. She walked slowly behind Yolanda, who never even noticed Delia’s frown of confusion.

  twenty

  BY FRIDAY MORNING AT NINE THE GYM WAS FULL OF noisy, excited, jumping young people. T-shirts identified them from dozens of other states, as well as several foreign countries. Every shirt was tucked in; every tennis shoe was clean and tied tightly to prevent accidental slips or trips. Ropes flew in the halls, on the steps in front of the building, and in every possible clear space in the huge gym at the University of Cincinnati. The tapping of the young feet and the rapping of the twisted ropes on the floor built up a syncopated rhythm of excitement.

  Friday’s events would take almost all day, Delia knew. Every singles team—from third grade through the open divisions—had to be evaluated in compulsory, speed, and freestyle events. The whole procedure would be repeated for the doubles teams. With more than three hundred teams represented, it seemed it would take forever, but that evening, the top five teams in every grade and every division would be posted. Those would be the teams to compete in the finals on Saturday.

  The judges, dressed in all white, stood near each team with counters and clipboards, making sure that every step was counted, every turn was registered, and every miss was deducted from the score. When the Queen Bees were called for singles, Delia and Yolanda and Charlene gave each other a high five, and marched to the center of the gym floor. Randy gave them a wink from where he watched with Bomani in the stands.

  The buzzer sounded. Delia jumped the compulsory round to perfection. But Bomani always told them that by eighth grade the compulsories ought to be perfect. Charlene jumped the speed round while Yolanda and Delia turned. She missed once, but she didn’t let it frazzle her concentration. She jumped right back in, head down, knees low, tapping incredibly fast to the whistling of the ropes. She jumped a dynamite 350 jumps in the thirty-second time period. The three of them were pleased.

  For their freestyle routine they managed to include several complicated tricks—including a backward push-up and a one-hand flip—without missing or getting tangled in the ropes. Bomani and Randy gave them a thumbs-up sign as they walked off the floor feeling triumphant.

  “You think we made the finals?” Yolanda asked Delia as they went to the lobby to get hot dogs.

  “I think we did pretty good. Unless South Carolina or Georgia beats us out with their fancy freestyle stuff, I think we’ve got a good shot. We didn’t make any major mistakes. Is your head okay? You feeling all right? You know we still gotta do doubles in a couple of hours.”

  “Yeah, I never felt better. Really.”

  “Good. Then let’s go back in—I want to see what the Japanese team does in their freestyle routine. They’re awesome. It’s like they’re dancing with the ropes. Are your parents coming tomorrow?” Delia asked.

  “Yeah, they had to work today. My father told me we’d better make the final five so he’d have something to see tomorrow. You know how he is.”

  “Don’t sweat it. I think we’ll be there. I have faith.” Then Delia asked Yolanda slyly, “So, are both your boyfriends coming tomorrow? And what about Jesse?”

  Yolanda laughed. “Jesse is in Cleveland with his dad-something about male bonding because of the almost-tragedy at school. And I don’t know if the twins will show or not. One thing you can say about them: They sure aren’t predictable!”

  “What are you wearing to the DD party tonight?” Delia asked.

  “A prom dress,” Yolanda tossed back at her. “What about you?”

  “Something cool—all that jumping in such a small area makes me sweaty.”

  “Well, in that case I’ll wear a swim suit!” Yolanda laughed.

  Tha
t evening at the party Delia took a moment to get a Coke, smiling to herself as she watched teams from all over the country jump together. Jackie and Shana were challenging some kids from Taiwan to speed jumps. Charlene and Misty were teaching some younger jumpers from California how to do some fancy rope tricks. Even Randy was jumping with some of the kids from Canada. Competition was forgotten for the moment; everyone was friends for the evening, sharing the one thing they all loved—the magic of the ropes.

  The list of the final five in each grade and division was posted shortly after the party broke up. Fourteen of Cincinnati’s eighteen teams were represented, including the third-grade singles team and doubles team, the fourth-grade doubles and freestyle teams, and at least one or two teams from each grade level. Delia’s eighth-grade team was selected in all three divisions—singles, doubles, and freestyle. Delia cheered and hugged Yolanda and Charlene and Misty. This was too good to be true.

  The girls were elated, although the teams that did not place were initially disappointed. Bomani made sure no one felt sorry for herself and that every single girl encouraged the teams that would represent them all on Saturday.

  The next morning, dressed in crisp white shorts and freshly ironed T-shirts, once again thanks to Randy, the Queen Bees marched proudly into the gym with the rest of the Ohio teams in the grand parade of states as the music of the Olympics piped through the speakers. Every single competitor, whether she or he had been selected for the finals or not, marched with pride and dignity. Parents took pictures and videotapes; reporters from local TV stations, as well as CNN, hovered close by; and the tension was thick enough to slice. Delia’s mom sat with Yolanda’s parents on one side of the gym. Delia’s dad and Jillian sat on the other. Misty’s mother and her four little sisters waved proudly from a seat near the door.

  “Look, Delia! It’s Miss Benson!” Yolanda said with excitement. Both girls waved furiously to their teacher as she walked into the gym. She waved back, finding a seat near several of her students.