Love Double Dutch!

by Doreen Spicer-Dannelly

  “Aunt Jeanie?” I call. “Is it always this quiet? It’s hard to sleep when it’s this quiet.”

  “You city folk are so funny,” Aunt Jeanie says, cracking the window. “How about that?”

  I hear weird chirping. “What is that?” I ask, annoyed.

  “Crickets,” Aunt Jeanie explains. “You know, if you count the number of chirps they make within fifteen seconds and add thirty-seven, you can tell what the temperature is outside.”

  Seriously? My…eyelids…are…heavy.

  “Okay, good night, sweetie,” Aunt Jeanie says from the door. “Oh, and I have a surprise for you and Sally. See you in the morning.”

  I’m too tired to possibly imagine what the surprise might be, and those cricket chirps are so annoying. And why are Beyoncé and JLo staring at me? I smash a pillow over my head to shut out the weird noises and those stares.

  Ugh! I want to go home!

  The next morning I don’t want to get out of bed, but the delicious aroma of Aunt Jeanie’s pancakes makes me dash in and out of the shower quicker than she can call, “Breakfast!” If I remember correctly, my aunt Jeanie’s pancakes can make you want more pancakes, but I’m not seven years old anymore. Her cooking could make my stomach swell, which is not good, especially if I’m not jumping double Dutch. I can’t even imagine a summer without double Dutch. The saddest thought. As I reach the kitchen, it looks like the boys beat me to it, and my brother is still in his pj’s.

  “Cameron, did you wash your face and brush your teeth?” I ask, knowing he probably didn’t.

  “Leave me alone, Kayla. I’m on vacation,” Cameron says with a mouthful of pancakes. Ill.

  “That’s right,” Aunt Jeanie laughs. “You are on vacation, and as soon as you’re done I want you three boys to wash up. Uncle Larry and I have surprises for everyone.”

  Uncle Larry stands at the entrance of the kitchen sipping coffee.

  “Good morning, everyone.” He is so formal despite his yard clothes and baseball cap. “Yes, we do have a surprise, and we’re going to need everyone’s full cooperation.”

  Uh-oh. The last time I was surprised, I got a trip to the South. I don’t think I can handle another life-altering surprise. I guess my uncle is waiting for little Princess Sally to join us. Finally, dressed neatly like something out of a J.Crew catalog, she saunters slowly down the stairs, sulking as if someone killed the cat she never had. She sure can hold a grudge. Whatever. I’m over it. I’ve already given in to the fact that this is going to be the worst summer ever. But I’m loving that I’ll be eating Aunt Jeanie’s cooking while I’m here. Pancakes. Yum! These fluffy pillows from heaven are perking up my spirits already. I even wave at Sally as thick maple syrup drips from my next bite. No, she didn’t just roll her eyes.

  “Good morning, sweetie,” Aunt Jeanie greets her.

  “What’s so good about it?” Sally drags her sad face to the refrigerator for water.

  “Now, Sally, I hope you’re not going to keep it up with this sour attitude of yours,” Aunt Jeanie replies. “You’re going to spoil our surprise.”

  “What surprise?” Sally looks like she’s already disappointed.

  “Well,” Uncle Larry jumps in, “we’re putting in a pool!”

  The boys go bananas. I’m even excited about the news, and I don’t know how to swim. Sally tries to appear unaffected.

  “That’s nice,” Sally says, slicing an apple.

  “The other good news is, the boys are going to help your dad with the pool, and you and Kayla are going to day camp,” Aunt Jeanie says, then sips coffee.

  “Day camp?” Sally is not happy. “I’m too old for day camp.” Day camp? Really?

  “Honey, I hear they’re doing something different this year.” Aunt Jeanie is selling us the hype. “It’s being called the Charlotte Sports Day Camp. It’s about encouraging kids to get moving and playing together. You know, teamwork. I think you’re going to like it.”

  “Sounds like fun, Aunt Jeanie.” I’m too old for day camp too, but I can’t hurt her feelings. I just think it’ll be much better than staying cooped up in this house the whole summer.

  “You’re welcome, baby,” Aunt Jeanie replies. “See, Sally? Kayla is excited.”

  “That’s because she still acts like a kid…and dresses like one too,” Sally says.

  “I am not a kid, okay?” I retort. “You’re the one who’s acting like an ungrateful brat.”

  “Who are you calling brat?”

  “You, Princess!”

  “You’re just jealous, Kayla.”

  “Whoa! Hey!” Uncle Larry whistles uncharacteristically. “You two, settle down. Sally, take a seat.” Sally plops down at the table.

  “Now, look.” Aunt Jeanie sighs. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m planning on enjoying the next four weeks of this lovely summer with a pool and all the fun. You, Sally, can sit in your room the whole time and pout all you want. Or you can cancel that bad attitude and get with the program.” I guess that’s Aunt Jeanie’s way of trying to sound cool or hip, as she might say. Funny. Sally sulks while I snag an extra helping of pancakes. Sally is not spoiling my appetite. “They let me sign you two up even though we were past registration. And I had to pay extra,” Aunt Jeanie continues. “You’ll be a little late, but I think—”

  “All right! I’ll go to the camp,” Sally says, caving. “But if I don’t like it, I’ll take the sentence and stay in my room.”

  Aunt Jeanie and Uncle Larry share an inside look. They’ve seen this act from her before, I’m guessing. Doesn’t matter. She isn’t me, and I certainly am not sitting in anybody’s room…for four weeks…in the hot South.

  * * *

  —

  Later, Aunt Jeanie drops Princess Sally and me off at a huge community center campus. It’s actually what I imagine a country club would look like. Well, I am in the country, so this must be the club. It makes my community center back in Brooklyn look like an old Cracker Jack box. I mean, there’s a fountain out in front of something that looks like a lake beside the main building, and there are huge sports fields surrounding the place. Baseball, soccer—is that a skateboard ramp? Wow! This is cool! I feel like I’m at the summer Olympics. The place is crawling with kids, kids my age—and boys who actually have their pants pulled up over their underwear. Okay, I must admit, I am a little excited.

  “This is the camp?” I ask, just to make sure.

  “Sure is,” Aunt Jeanie confirms. “Oh, and look. Kids seem like they want to be here.” She directs that to Sally, who is still uninterested.

  “Thanks, Aunt Jeanie,” I say, quickly hopping out of the car.

  “You’re welcome, Kayla.” Aunt Jeanie smiles and lowers the window. “You two stick together. You’re family, whether you like it or not.” Sally and I share an annoyed look. “And family take care of one another.” As soon as the car is out of sight, I run off to check out the place, leaving Sally standing with her arms crossed.

  Inside, everyone scatters about, checking flyers posted on the walls and then running over to a registration table. There’s a guy with a bullhorn announcing what sports are left for signing up. I check out the lists.

  Basketball, soccer, baseball, tennis, skateboarding…Really? I continue reading. “No friggin’ way!” Double Dutch!!! What?

  I’m at table seven like a lightning bolt struck my butt. I instantly sign up for double Dutch. Yeah! I immediately grab the sheet again and sign Sally’s name to the list.

  “What are you doing?” Sally steams. “You can’t just go running off.”

  “I’m not your child, and if my math is right, I am five months older than you.” She’s not going to spoil my mood now. “Look! Double Dutch! They have double Dutch teams! I would have never—”

  “I hope you didn’t…” Sally sees her name. “Why did you do that? I d
on’t want to be on anyone’s double Dutch team.” She scratches her name from the list.

  “What’s wrong with you?” I ask. “I know you know how to jump double Dutch. It’s like riding a bike—you never forget.”

  “It’s not that!” Sally is upset. “I’m just not into it anymore!”

  Suddenly four girls, three white and one Asian, roll up on us like they own the place. They’re wearing their own member jackets that read BOUNCING BELLES.

  “Is little Sally Walker signing up for double Dutch?” The group laughs. Sally’s light brown skin turns pale, as if she’s seen a ghost. She’s obviously intimidated.

  “Who’s asking?” I step in front of Sally to get this girl out of her face. This girl doesn’t know—I’m from Brooklyn, and Brooklyn girls don’t let anyone intimidate us.

  “The name is Ivy, and I don’t know who you are, but your friend here shouldn’t even be thinking about signing up for anything double Dutch,” she says with a lot of attitude.

  I get in her face. “For your information, Sally is my cousin, and she can do whatever she pleases. If she wants to jump double Dutch, she can.”

  They all bust up laughing.

  “Are you sure about that?” says a blond girl.

  “Forget them, Kayla.” Sally tries to cover. “Let’s just go.” She grabs my arm, but I don’t budge.

  “If you know what’s good for you, um…?” Ivy pauses.

  “Kayla,” I say.

  “Yeah, whatever,” Ivy disses. This poison Ivy girl is lucky I don’t want to get in trouble on my first day in Charlotte, because she surely would be my first reason. “If she knows what’s good for her, she better stay away from any competition against us. She will never win.” I can’t believe she just said that! I just stare her down. “Let’s go, girls.”

  “Yeah, you better,” I say, holding back. Once they’re gone, Sally jumps in my face.

  “Why did you do that?” She’s shaking and fuming, with watery eyes. “I knew you were going to start trouble!”

  “Looks like the trouble started before I got here,” I say defensively. But then I realize something. “Who are they, and why are you letting those white girls bully you?”

  “White, black, yellow, brown, none of that matters.” Sally tries to school me. “Those girls are the Bouncing Belles, and they used to be my friends, my best friends. Just stay out of my business!” Sally rushes away.

  “Ooooh, they’re the reason why you didn’t want to come to camp,” I say. Sally doesn’t answer as she disappears out of the gym. Something is definitely wrong, and I’m going to find out what. Nobody pushes me or my princess cousin around.

  “Hey, kid, are you guys in or out?” An older lady with a scratchy voice asks as she collects sign-up sheets. I grab the one for double Dutch and sign my name and Sally’s again, but this time as a team.

  “We’re in,” I answer confidently as I hand the woman the paper. She looks it over.

  “You’re going to need two more jumpers to make a double Dutch team, sweetie. I don’t make ’em, but those’re the rules,” says the lady. “Teams shut down end of the day tomorrow. If you don’t find a pair, you’ll be placed elsewhere. Got it?”

  I nod. There’s no way I’m going to be at this camp and not jump double Dutch. Little Sally Walker is going to stand up to those Bouncing Bullies if it’s the last thing she does this summer. I am going to see to it.

  Since Sally and I are a week late to camp, we’ve missed tons of “getting to know you” games and have to spend the rest of the day in a crash orientation and tour to learn the rules and regulations, safety measures, blah, blah, blah, but I can’t seem to stop smiling. I’m going to be jumping double Dutch again! Wait until I tell my girls back home. They are going to flip. Sally, on the other hand, doesn’t speak to me the whole time after our run-in with the Bouncing Belles. When my uncle Larry comes to pick us up, he asks how our day was, and Sally immediately tells him that I am starting trouble. We argue all the way through the doors of the house, but once we’re inside, Sally runs up to her room and slams the door.

  “What is wrong with Sally?” Aunt Jeanie asks, concerned. I shrug out of frustration. Honestly, I don’t even know where to begin—her attitude, the fact that she’s a party pooper, those bullies—it’s all a total mess.

  “Something about her old buddies, but I tell you what,” Uncle Larry says as he tosses his keys into a basket in the foyer. “She keeps slamming them doors, she can kiss that pool good-bye.” He moves away to the backyard as if he knows what’s coming next.

  “Kayla, you go and get washed up for dinner,” Aunt Jeanie orders.

  “Yes, Auntie.” I was hoping she’d be cooking. I am starving!

  “Sally Walker!” Aunt Jeanie calls. “You come down here right now.”

  Quickly I wash my hands and face and rush back into the kitchen. I don’t want to miss Sally getting in trouble after she said I’m the one who started it. Sally slowly steps down the stairs and sits, pouting like a six-year-old.

  “Young lady,” Aunt Jeanie begins, “you have guests until the end of the summer, and I will not have you carrying on like this.”

  “Mom, Kayla is the one who started it!” Sally says, pointing at me. See? “She signed me up for double Dutch and I don’t want to be on any stupid double Dutch team!”

  Wait a minute, hold the ropes! Did she just call double Dutch stupid?

  “It’s because of those white girls you let push you around,” I say, very matter-of-fact.

  “Kayla, honey.” Aunt Jeanie turns to me. “We don’t refer to people by color around this house. It’s impolite and unacceptable. So please be mindful of that, okay?” I didn’t mean to sound ignorant, but in my part of the neighborhood white people are like aliens—they don’t come around, but we know they’re out there.

  “I’m sorry, Auntie.” I truly respect and accept my aunt’s wishes. “But she let those girls punk her. I wasn’t going to just stand there and let them.”

  “Do you want to tell her, or should I?” Aunt Jeanie asks Sally, as if there’s some big secret. Sally shrugs, still mad. “Sally used to be a Bouncing Belle, and they had a chance to showcase their team in New York.”

  “You mean at the Garden?” I ask. What? Now my ears are wide like Dumbo’s.

  “Yes, that’s the one,” Aunt Jeanie continues. “The big competition here in Charlotte was their last chance to be Junior champions, but, uh…”

  “I froze!” Sally bursts. “I froze, okay? We never made it to New York! There! Now you know why the Bouncing Belles hate me! Their chance to be champions was messed up, and it was all my fault.” Oooh. Yeah, I probably would have been mad at her too.

  “And ever since then, they haven’t been very nice to Sally.” Aunt Jeanie is a little upset as well. “To the point where I almost called each of their parents to give them a piece of my mind, but Sally made me vow not to. She wants to deal with this on her own.”

  “Well, now you have a chance to show them what you’re about,” I say, crossing my arms.

  “What are you talking about?” Sally asks in an agitated voice. “I’m not jumping double Dutch ever again.”

  “You have to,” I tell her. “Last I remember, you loved double Dutch and you were good. Besides, I signed your name on the list for double Dutch jumpers. We start tomorrow.” I smile like I did a good thing.

  “Why did you do that?” Sally is angrier now.

  “Because it’s time you stood up for yourself, that’s why!” I’m now acting like the older-cousin-by-five-months that I am.

  “You can’t make me!” Sally yells.

  “Fine,” I say defiantly. “Then let those bullies run over you whenever they want.” I didn’t mean to make Sally cry, but she does. Seeing this makes me think she’s really hurt and probably has been for a long time. “I’m sor
ry,” I say as she covers her face. “But, Sally, it’s either you let them get the best of you or you finally get them off your back.”

  “Sally, I think it’s a good idea,” Aunt Jeanie agrees. “You don’t have anything to prove to anyone, but to stand up for yourself, continue doing something you love and not let anyone stop you. I’m all for that.”

  Sally shakes her head and stands up. “You,” she commands, pointing to me, “come with me!”

  Now what? Finally the competitive cousin I remember is starting to return. I follow her to her room as Aunt Jeanie throws her hands up and mumbles to herself: “I guess what Mom says isn’t cool, but I know I’m right. Bullying my child, please.” She’s so funny.

  Sally flies down the hall to her bedroom, the same room I haven’t been invited into until now. So whatever she wants to show me must be important. And of course her room looks like a dark pink unicorn exploded from a secret treasure chest that belonged to a leprechaun. I mean, glittery things are everywhere—blinged-out pillows, old ballet slippers hanging on the closet door, S-A-L-L-Y spelled out on a shelf in old Broadway lights. Okay, that’s pretty cool. She immediately starts typing on her computer until a website from the Netherlands pops up with a picture of a white guy jumping single rope.

  “Who’s that?” I ask.

  “That’s Ivy’s grandfather. Double Dutch is in her blood,” Sally says. “Ivy comes from a long line of jump rope champions.”

  “And?” I ask. “What does that have to do with you and the way they treat you? Because you messed up?”