In A Jam

by Megan Sparks

  “Not bloody likely!”

  Annie and Mum both jerked around to see who else in this small Illinois town had a London accent. It was a dark-haired man in his twenties wearing jeans and a flannel shirt arguing with a huge group of people in saris and kurtas that he wasn’t going to be the next one to get married. Sharmila’s family, no doubt.

  “Annie beti.” Sharmila’s mum motioned her over. “Let me introduce my family from London. All here for my daughter Priya’s wedding.”

  The introductions went around and Mum looked truly happy for the first time since arriving at the rink. She smiled and shook hands with everyone as if she were meeting long lost kinsmen, just because they all spoke the same “language”.

  “Sharmila, Annie,” Liz called out from the rink. “Warm-up’s in two minutes.”

  Annie left her mum with Sharmila’s family and spotted Dad ready to keep time in his home-made funky tie-dyed shirt that displayed his NSO name, “Belles’ Kitchen”. She still hadn’t put on her pads or skates. From the locker room, the rest of the team skated out in a streak of hot pants and fishnets. Holly had her underwear on over her fishnets: a skimpy pair of knickers with “SEXY BABE!” written across the bum. Only Lauren, who was opposed to anything remotely girly, had mid-thigh blue shorts over black leggings.

  Annie put her gear on quickly on one of the threadbare benches and was about to join the girls in the rink when Sharmila gasped, “Annie, wait, you don’t have your face on.”

  Along with their derby “uniform”, the girls often wore make-up or face paint to add to the fun. Annie had put on regular make-up at home, but that wasn’t enough for Sharmila who was wearing more glitter than a fairy princess. For Sharmila, who wanted to become a make-up artist, it was a crime to compete in a bout without something extravagant on your face. For Halloween, she and Lexie had done a great job in turning the whole team into vampires.

  Lexie.

  Annie didn’t have to look around to know that once again her best friend wasn’t there. She half-hoped Lexie would make this bout, but knew she was probably already in Indiana with her relatives. Annie could imagine her curled up in a chair with her sketchbook drawing caricatures of her family. I really miss her.

  Sharmila dug out a container of glitter from her skate bag and rubbed two streaks from Annie’s cheekbones to the corner of her eyes. “That’ll have to do for now. I’ll touch it up during halftime.”

  The two roller girls dashed onto the rink to warm up before Coach Ritter benched both of them for being tardy.

  Within a few minutes, Jesse started announcing each of the skaters with their derby names and numbers. Unlike other sports, where numbers were just numbers, in roller derby they could include letters and symbols that had special meaning to the individual. And their derby names usually included a funny pun.

  “No need to watch TV when you have Lauren Disorder to take you ten to the power of twenty-four!” Jesse introduced her. Lauren skated around the track with an exaggerated tough look but when she stopped, she burst into the sweetest smile. It was hard to believe the expressions came from the same girl.

  “She’s five foot eleven and a half without her skates, she’s Anne R. Key!” Jesse roared.

  Annie sped around the track at top speed. When she returned to her starting point, she slowed down just enough to feel safe to do a cartwheel. The left skate rolled out from under her as soon as she landed, but that was inevitable. Dad gave her a loud whistle while Mum’s face was unreadable. Next bout, maybe Annie would try an aerial – a hands-free cartwheel.

  Jesse finished introducing everyone and the girls shuffled around as the coaches told them who’d be starting off the first jam.

  “Thank you all for coming to our Thanksgiving bout,” Jesse said seconds before the bout started. “Anne. R. Key, this song’s for you and your mom. Happy holidays!”

  Annie’s eyes widened at the sound of her derby name and then her face changed to a sheepish grin as she recognized the first bars of the song.

  It was a change from Jesse’s usual rock tunes, but Annie couldn’t help blushing a little. Jesse had remembered her reluctant confession of having loved seeing the musical with Mum on her tenth birthday (Dad had flat out refused to go with them). Blaring from the speakers was ABBA’s “Mamma Mia”.

  She glanced at the stands and could see Mum smiling and nodding her head as she sang along. Annie owed Jesse one for sure.

  She sat on the bench as Liz then Holly played jammer the first two jams. Just as she was thinking that Coach Ritter was going to keep her benched for the whole bout, she called Annie out to be the jammer.

  Yes!

  Annie popped in her mouthguard and pulled on the helmet cover, or panty as they called it, with the star that identified her as the jammer. Next to her on the jammer line was the Derby Dolls’ captain, Hell’s Angelica.

  The first whistle blew and Holly, Lauren, Natalia, and Carmen began blocking the Dolls. Then two short jammer whistles sounded and Annie took off. She was at the pack before the Dolls’ blockers had barely made it off the line. Reaching the pack, she squatted down low and squeezed through the pack between two girls’ legs. A second later, as she was rounding the corner, the jammer ref blew his whistle, pointed at her and held up his arms in an L-shape. Brilliant! By getting through the pack first, she was the lead jammer. Hell’s Angelica could still score points – but only if Annie let her. The best thing about being the lead jammer was that Annie could call off the jam anytime she wanted. Ideally, after she had racked up some points.

  She came up to the pack again. The Dolls were down to three blockers, Annie’s friend Tessa Distressa having been sent to the penalty box. That was good news for Annie, one less girl blocking her way, and Annie would still get a point for passing Tessa in the box if she passed all of the other blockers.

  No, not if. When!

  Annie faked right and the smallest gap appeared between Holly and a Doll called Mo Jo. Annie pressed against Holly to get through – it was completely legal to use your own teammates as props. Had it been anyone else, squeezing through would have been almost impossible. But Holly weighed less than fifty kilos and was a former figure skater. As soon as Annie pushed against her teammate, Holly gracefully spun out of the way, and Annie was clear!

  Two strides in front of her, Hell’s Angelica was making her first lap around the ring. Annie crouched low and powered after her opponent. She could feel her extra training paying off. She was faster, stronger, and more determined than before. Hell’s Angelica tried to increase her speed but was no match. Annie zipped by the Dolls’ captain for a grand slam. Tessa Distressa was on her way back from the penalty box, but hadn’t reached the pack yet. A quick glance under her arm and Annie saw Hell’s Angelica a few strides behind.

  Annie noticed a space on the inside of the pack ahead. It was her best bet. If she got pushed out of bounds, she’d just call off the jam. She dashed to the left. There was only about ten centimetres between Mo Jo’s skate and the painted boundaries. The same width as a balance beam. Annie leaped into the air, her arms straight up and legs out in a perfect split. She glanced at the rink and landed on both skates just within the boundary. Tapping her hands on her hips, Annie called off the jam, having scored nine points before Hell’s Angelica even had a chance to score one.

  Lauren gave her a huge hug as they skated off the rink and Holly took a second to mimic Annie’s splits with a grand jeté. She landed smoothly and posed on her toe stops out of bounds.

  “Mine was higher,” Annie teased as she gulped some water on the bench.

  Holly rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault. Your legs are, like, two feet longer. And I don’t see anyone else here trying it.”

  “Yeah, ’cause the rest of us know skates are for skating, not for doing acrobatics.” Lauren took some zebra-print duct tape from her bag to strap over a kneepad that was coming loose.

  Annie tossed the helmet panty to Sharmila, the next jammer, before putting her arm around
her derby wife. Lauren might not be an aerialist, but she was the best blocker on the team.

  She looked into the crowd, hoping to catch Mum’s eye. Dad gave her a quick thumbs up before turning back to the track. Mum on the other hand... Her expression certainly wasn’t critical. More like horrified. Annie’s shoulders slumped down. Why was it so hard to please her?

  Annie sat out one jam and then went back out onto the track as a blocker. In roller derby, players continuously changed positions. That said, not everyone who played blocker was a jammer. Lauren, for instance, was such a tough blocker that she hardly ever played jammer. Although Annie loved playing jammer, she’d learned that first you had to be a good blocker – to keep the opposing team’s blockers from knocking you down. Blocking had initially intimidated her, but now she knew just what to do. She sent Polly Socket out of bounds, booty blocked Mo Jo, got knocked down by Hell’s Angelica, but was back on her skates in an instant and prevented Tessa Distressa from scoring. All in a day’s bout.

  By the time the bout ended, Annie had only been sent to the penalty box once for an accidental high block (Holly had been sent to the box six times – one more penalty and she would have been ejected). She had scored a total of thirty-one points and had blocked the Derby Dolls loads of times. Seeing the final score – Liberty Belles 126 – Derby Dolls 90 – Annie knew she had played her part well. The whole team had. Their place in the championship bout was now secured, only their opponent was yet to be confirmed. What a bout for Mum to see!

  The Liberty Belles skated their victory lap and slapped the hands of the audience members standing around the barrier. Dad was right there with all of Sharmila’s family to congratulate the team but Mum was standing a few metres away. Annie waved at her and caught the start of a wave back as she skated past.

  After the Derby Dolls had done their consolation lap, Annie skated over to her parents. Dad immediately wrapped her in a tight hug and kept his arm around her shoulders as Annie turned to Mum.

  “So, what did you think?” Annie asked, her eyes still glowing with the win and the excitement of the bout.

  Mum pressed her lips together in a straight line and pushed her glasses up her nose.

  Oh no, here she goes with the criticism again. She doesn’t know anything about roller derby so she’ll pick on the one thing she does know about: my split. She’ll say my legs were bent even if they weren’t.

  “It’s...” Mum paused as she searched for the right word. “Unique. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen.”

  Not a compliment, but better than a flat-out criticism. Good enough. Annie let go of Dad and gave Mum a hug. “I’m glad you were here.”

  “I just don’t understand why everyone is in fancy dress,” Mum wondered aloud. “That girl with the red hair looked like she was in her knickers.”

  Before Annie could defend Holly, Coach Ritter came up to them. Dad’s eyes lit up and Annie couldn’t blame him. Coach’s auburn hair was loose from its earlier plait and flowing in pretty waves down her back.

  “It’s empowering. Roller derby girls don’t have to conform to a certain image. They can wear what they want and still be tough. Hi, I’m Coach Susan Ritter.” She held out her hand to Mum.

  Mum’s eyes narrowed, shifting from the coach to Dad and back to Coach Ritter. Her eyes landed on the coach’s Celtic-style banded tattoo around her left bicep and then to Coach’s low-slung jeans revealing her narrow waist and part of a much larger tattoo by her hip. When Mum finally took Coach Ritter’s hand it was as if she was afraid of catching germs from it.

  “I am Annie’s mother,” Mum said briskly, without offering her own name. “Do you, uh, play this game too?”

  “I retired from the sport a few years ago. Shoulder injury.” Coach Ritter didn’t seem to be picking up on Mum’s cold vibes as she smiled sadly and rotated her shoulder.

  “But Susan here is a nurse, and a mom. She’d never put the girls in danger,” Dad quickly added, putting a friendly hand on the coach’s shoulder.

  “I see,” Mum said, staring at Dad’s lingering hand.

  There was a tense moment while Annie glanced nervously at the three adults, not exactly sure what was going on.

  Coach Ritter cleared her throat and took a small step back. “Anyway, I just came by to say you did a great job out there, Annie. I can see you’ve been putting in extra training. I’m so proud of you.”

  “Thanks,” Annie said.

  Dad winked at Coach Ritter and put his arm around Annie’s shoulders again. “That’s my girl.”

  “Our girl.” Mum folded her arms tightly across her chest. She shifted her weight in her leather boots. “David, I’m absolutely exhausted. Jetlag, you know. Annie, return your skates and let’s go. I’m sure you’re desperate for a shower.”

  No, not really. What Annie really wanted to do was have a laugh with the girls in the locker room, chat a bit with Jesse about music, and go to the post-bout party at Lauren’s house, where there was a trampoline in the back garden.

  Instead, she found herself squashed in Dad’s pickup between Mum who was ready to kill Dad, and Dad who had no idea what he had done wrong.

  Chapter Twelve

  “When I was growing up, we had a tradition of having as many pies as we had people over for Thanksgiving. I’ve got an apple-peach and a pumpkin cheesecake. What should the third one be?” Dad asked as he rolled out the dough.

  The kitchen was filled with dirty pots and utensils, but the smells engulfing it were tantalizing. Roasting turkey and fresh cranberry sauce, spices blending with the sliced fruit. Annie had deliberately eaten only a slice of toast for breakfast, just so she could enjoy the feast. Any minute now her stomach would start moaning.

  Annie looked up from the potatoes she was peeling. “Mum likes lemon meringue.”

  Her parents had barely spoken since the bout last night, and when they did, it was in stiff, formal tones. No longer were they “Pippa” and “Davy”; the warmth from the first day was long gone.

  “Good plan.” Dad placed half of the dough in the bottom of the pie pan and dusted it with flour and brown sugar. “I’ll put the egg yolks in the cheesecake. Where is your mum anyway?”

  Annie sighed. “In her room. Working.”

  “Ah, of course.” A sad smile crossed Dad’s face and Annie knew how he felt. Even several thousands of miles away from her office, Mum couldn’t stop working, despite being on holiday. But when challenged, she always said that someone had to support the family. Another constant argument between her parents.

  “I can ask her to come and help,” Annie said.

  “Don’t bother. It’s a small kitchen. And I can do it all. I am the master Thanksgiving chef extraordinaire, muah hahahaha!” Dad puffed out his chest and gave an evil laugh that was cut short by the cranberry sauce boiling over. He quickly rushed over to turn the gas off and gave the sauce a stir. Bringing the wooden spoon to his lips, he blew on it until it was cool enough to taste. He sighed blissfully. “I do love any holiday that involves loads of food.”

  Annie threw the potatoes in the pot of boiling water, sprinkled in some salt and placed the lid slightly askew to let out the steam. “How come we never celebrated Thanksgiving in London?”

  “I kept it up for a while, when you were really little. But it’s not a holiday over there. You had school and your mum had work... Things just got complicated.” Dad didn’t look at her as he went back to weaving the dough strips in a lattice over the apple-peach filling.

  “There was that one year, remember? We went to Mum’s American colleague’s house for Thanksgiving?” Annie began separating the eggs for the meringue, a task she’d always enjoyed since Dad first showed her how to do it.

  Dad gave a melodramatic whimper of despair. “Oh, don’t remind me. Dry turkey. Mashed potatoes and stuffing from boxes. Cranberry sauce. From a can! Pre-made pumpkin pie mix. I almost needed therapy after that trauma.”

  “Well this year, the food’s going to be gorgeous.” Noticing that D
ad was distracted as he remembered the disastrous dinner, Annie sneaked a slice of sugar and cinnamon spiced apple from the pie filling. Yum! “Naturally, because I’m helping you.”

  Dad narrowed his eyes at her and Annie scowled back before the two laughed. They finished the desserts, except for the meringue which had to wait, and got everything else ready before attacking some of the cleaning. An hour later, Dad heaved the turkey out of the oven. It looked so juicy and tender with a few crispy edges around the wings and thighs.

  “Go tell your mum dinner is ready,” Dad said as he finished whipping the meringue and plopped it on the lemon custard. Finally the oven was clear and the three pies were ready for baking.

  Annie stared at the impressive arrangement of food for a second longer. Her mouth watered, that breakfast toast long forgotten. It was all she could do not to tuck in straight away. With a silent plea to the food to stay put, she rushed to get Mum.

  “Mum, Dad said—” Annie stopped short when Mum gave her a disapproving glare.

  “Excuse me, Gemma, just one second.” Mum covered the phone with her hand. “Annie, I’m working.”

  “Yeah, but dinner—”

  “You and your father can start without me. I’ll be there when I’m finished.” Mum shooed Annie out of the room and shut the door behind her. Mum hadn’t done that since Annie was little and started working longer hours. Annie stared at the closed door for a minute. A few months apart and she had already forgotten all of Mum’s work “rules”.

  Annie found Dad in the living room slouched on the sofa, television on, bare feet on the coffee table, and a beer in his hand. “Let me guess. She’ll come when she’s done working.”

  “Yup.” Annie collapsed onto the sofa and reached for the raspberry soda Dad had brought for her.