by Janet Walker
* * *
Ed Porter lay the newspaper on the kitchen table and happily announced, “There she is! The superstar!”
Tracy walked in and immediately collapsed comically and lay down on the kitchen floor. Her aunt and uncle laughed, and Tracy was pleased that they did. She had never behaved as a clown before and liked being a cause of amusement.
“Girl, if you don’t get off that floor!” Madge threatened lightly.
Tracy got up on hands and knees and crawled to one of the dinette chairs and mounted it. The grownups laughed again.
“Amazing Grace wore you out, huh?” her uncle observed.
“Yes, sir!” the girl declared and exhaled in a whoosh.
At the sink, Madge folded her arms in interest. “Tracy, how did that happen? You didn’t go into details when you called after school. And when I spoke to Her Greatness this morning, she was very adamant about not letting you try out.”
“She told me no, too. But then she came up to me after sixth period and asked me to come out on the floor—you know, on the court. These two girls was there—college girls who play for college. They used to play for Miz Grace, too. Anyway, she told me to play against them.”
“Yeah? Two against one?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How’d you do?”
“I was nervous, you know, ’cause I didn’t understand why she was asking me to do that, but then one of them whispered to me, said I better do the best I can ’cause Miz Grace was testing me—you know, trying to see how I did against them. If I did ah’right, they said she was gonna let me try out.”
“So how’d you do?”
“I did good! One of ’em blocked me, though,” the teen admitted, “but then I got her back!” she boasted.
The grownups laughed. “Way to go!” Ed praised.
Tracy smiled. It was the first time she had ever heard any man speak proudly about her.
“You didn’t hurt your jaw, did you?” asked Madge with concern.
“No, it was cool. And I was nervous at first, but after they told me what Miz Grace was doing, I just put it in my head that I was in Area Place, at the playground, and everything just fell in place.”
“So that was your tryouts?” asked Madge, puzzled.
“No, that was to see if I could try out.”
“What did she make you do for tryouts?” the woman asked.
“Lotta things! Made me do more than everybody else ’cause I missed yesterday. So while they was playing ball, I was jumping sideways over this bench for a long time! My lungs felt like they was gonna pop! They made me do push-ups—the boy kind! Made me do this thing where I had to jump up in the air and bounce the ball off the backboard without letting it hit the ground. And then she made us shoot freethrows. Do lay-ups. Dribble without looking. She even made us lift weights! They weren’t heavy, but what she made us do with ’em was hard—harder than what we do in P.E., and that’s hard. Anyway, I ain’t gonna lie, I was glad when it was over!”
The adults laughed.
“Well, I hope you’re resilient, because you have to go to the meeting tonight. So shower and get dressed. And I’ll fix you a plate.”
Tracy frowned with confusion and dismay, for it was Wednesday. “I thought the meeting was tomorrow night,” she said.
“It is, normally. But our congregation switched nights this week with the other congregation that uses the hall. They have the circuit overseer this week, so they’re meeting on Tuesday and Thursday.”
“What’s a circus overseer?” Tracy asked sullenly. Whatever he was, he was fouling her plans for rest.
“A circuit overseer. He’s a traveling elder who visits the congregations to encourage them.”
The explanation meant little to Tracy. “Oh,” she said, and then she whined, “Well, can’t I just miss the meeting tonight? I’ll go next time, I promise. I’m tired.” That was true, she was exhausted, but she also hated the idea of putting on pantyhose and heels and a dress and sitting for two hours while people talked about boring things.
“Yeah, Madge. The girl’s tired.”
“You weren’t too tired to try out for basketball,” Madge pointed out. “And stay out of this, Ed. You need to go to the meeting yourself.”
“That’s because I didn’t get tired ’til the end of tryouts,” Tracy explained. “Please, Aun’ Madge? I promise I won’t miss another meeting. I’m just wore out. Miz Grace is hard! And I got a lotta homework. And”—the girl’s teenage mind worked quickly—“and my face hurting again.”
The trick worked. Madge’s priorities quickly switched from the forsaking of spiritual gatherings to the attending to a child’s injuries.
“It does? Where?”
“Right there—ow!”
“See? I knew you weren’t well enough to do all that jumping around. You need some more painkillers.”
“No, she needs you to stop pressing on the part of her face that hurts,” Ed pointed out.
Madge cut her eyes playfully at her husband and continued examining Tracy’s face, this time with more care, gently tilting the girl’s face upward into the rays of light coming from the ceiling lamp. Tracy, sensing she had gotten out of the obligation of going to the meeting, wanted to smile, but she continued to frown pitifully as if in misery.
“Yes,” said Madge, “and your lip is bleeding again. You probably do need to stay home.” She removed her finger, Tracy’s chin lowered. “I’ll get the medicine,” Madge said, going over to one of the cabinets over the sink. Behind her back, Tracy smiled quickly at her uncle, who winked at her knowingly and nodded his head once as if to say, Way to go.
