Love Double Dutch!

by Doreen Spicer-Dannelly

  “Look! Ants!” a squeaky voice says.

  “Where?” I quickly jump back to my feet, shaking and dusting off any possible ants, but there isn’t anything except juice dripping from my face. Ugh! All I hear is laughter. It’s the Bouncing Belles.

  “The Brooklyn girl is afraid of bugs! Ha ha!” Ivy laughs.

  “Yeah, I am really tired of a certain little bug with beady blue eyes.” I charge toward Ivy as I wipe juice from my face. Melissa holds me back.

  “So this is your crew?” Ivy laughs to the other Belles.

  “Yeah, you got something to say about it?” My Brooklyn attitude flares.

  “First, you have a loser on your team,” Ivy says, referring to Sally. “Then a bunch of nobodies who probably can’t even skip single rope, much less jump double Dutch.”

  “You might as well quit now,” the taller girl says. The Belles agree and snicker. Oooh—I wonder if she’s had lunch yet, because I sure do want to feed this girl a knuckle sandwich right now…but I can’t! I won’t let myself go there. If I get in any kind of trouble, that would not be good. Uuuggghh! I smirk, the way a superhero smirks before spitting fire or something awesome to crush an enemy.

  “First, back up,” I say. She doesn’t. “Okay then.” I get closer and cross my arms to let her know she doesn’t scare me. “Second, my cousin is nobody’s loser.” I glance at Sally, but she cowers. The double Dutch divas grumble. “You just better get ready because this team—yes, this team—is going to ring your little Belles right out of the gym.” I think I put more stank on my confidence than I truly have for my team ’cause I’m not about to back down.

  Then Ivy stands on her tippy-toes and looks right into my eyes. “Huh” is all she says. Suddenly the rest of her crew busts out laughing.

  “Let’s go, Ivy,” the taller blond Belle calls. “We shouldn’t be wasting our time. They don’t even have a coach.”

  “You’re right, Brie,” Ivy responds. “Why are we wasting our time?” They gather and saunter off like they know they’ve got us beat already. This sucks! That friggin’ runt is really getting under my skin, and there’s nothing I can do about it but beat them at the competition. I turn to my team.

  “Since we won’t get any practice today, we’ll have to start over the weekend,” I say seriously. “Sally’s house. Seven a.m.”

  “Seven?” Melissa grunts.

  “But tomorrow is Saturday.” Tina isn’t happy either.

  “Do you guys want to have a chance, or are you going to let those double Dutch bullies keep pouncing on us? Not me,” I say, then wait for an answer. But there is none. Until…Sally stands.

  “I’m ready,” she says with determination in her voice. Suddenly I am so proud of her.

  “Who else?” I try to keep the momentum.

  “You’re right. I want to crush those heffas!” Melissa shouts. We all turn to Tina.

  “Okay.” Tina shrugs. “See you guys in the morning.” She’s odd. At this point I don’t care if she and Melissa have two left feet. Tomorrow they are going to learn how to double Dutch if we have to stay up all night. I just pray they’re fast learners.

  The next morning I am still so on fire from our little run-in with the divas that I don’t even eat breakfast. I grab my cousin Marc’s old boom box from his dresser and head outside to the driveway. We won’t need music for freestyle, but it might help us with our rhythm. Sally actually beats me there.

  “Good morning,” Sally says as she tightens the laces on her sneakers. Who wears pink BeDazzled sneakers? My princess cousin, of course.

  “Hey,” I reply, surprised. I think my cousin is really starting to show some signs of something, but I’m not sure if it’s determination to get back at the girls who have been dragging her through the mud for too long or if she’s excited about hanging up her ballet slippers for a minute to do double Dutch again. Either way, it’s a side of her I am really happy to see.

  Tina and Melissa show up with their long hair tied in ponytails and their game faces on.

  “I took this from my backyard just in case,” Melissa says, showing me an extra rope. “My mother is going to have a fit when she finds out I took her clothesline.”

  “People still use those?” I ask.

  “Yeah, the people who live in the trailer park,” Sally says nonchalantly.

  “Got a problem with that, Princess?” Melissa grunts.

  “No! I’m just saying.” Sally shrugs it off.

  “She didn’t mean anything,” I reassure Melissa. “Let’s just get to work.”

  “Well, buenos dias, bitches,” Tina says sarcastically. Did she just call us “bitches”? As much as I’ve heard girls around my block call each other names like that, it’s just never felt right to me. My mother and father never call me out my name, so no one else should, and before I can say anything, Sally nips it in the bud.

  “Tina! Do you guys want my mother to come out here and send you home?” Sally says quietly.

  “For what, saying ‘bitch’?” Melissa chuckles. “Well, I’m glad I washed my mouth out with soap this morning. I almost forgot we were going to be among royalty.” Tina and Melissa share a laugh. I am beginning to think we might have to set a few rules, but I can’t think of anything more than not referring to each other as bitches and trailer park people or fake royalty. But judging by our culture clash, something is bound to come up.

  Double Dutch might look crazy complicated, but it’s not. It’s just all the fancy moves and tricks that make it look harder than it really is. Add perfection to it and that’s where the competition and fun come in. I want to create complicated moves like those aerial spins between the ropes without making one mistake. But for anyone trying to actually jump double Dutch for the first time, like Tina and Melissa, the hardest part is getting in the ropes.

  “Ready?” I ask as Sally and I turn the ropes inward, one after another, very slowly, slow enough for a turtle to get in. Melissa stands next to Sally and lunges toward the ropes over and over again as they pass by.

  “Come on!” Tina says impatiently. “Jump in already!”

  “Quit it, Tina!” Melissa yells back. “You’re making me lose my concentration.”

  “We’re turning as slow as we can,” Sally says.

  “Come on, Melissa, you can do it,” I encourage her. “I’ll give you a ‘go’ every time it’s good to go in, okay?”

  “I got this,” Melissa says, determined.

  “Okay,” I say resignedly. “But remember, jump in with the foot closest to the rope, and then pick up your foot before the rope gets to it. You can do it.” Melissa rocks back and forth and back and forth…and back and forth. Sally gets frustrated and drops the ropes.

  “She’s not going to jump!” Sally says.

  “Give her a chance!” I yell at Sally. “She’ll do it.”

  “This is useless! She probably doesn’t have any rhythm!”

  “What do you mean no rhythm?” Melissa shouts at Sally. “Oh, I’ve got rhythm. Let me hold your iPod, Tina.” Tina hands the tiny device to Melissa, who shoves in the earbuds. I love that Melissa is uninhibited about everything, but I am afraid of what is to follow. White girls are not known for their street dancing. Suddenly Melissa is pop-locking! OMG! Well, in my face! She’s killing it and talking like we can’t hear her. “I don’t have rhythm….” Pop…Move…Lock…Wiggle…Pop…“Yeah right. This isn’t rhythm.” I try to contain my joy and laughter. Everything I’ve thought about white girls and dancing has just been shattered. Go, Melissa!

  “Okay, okay!” Sally says. “I get it! You can dance!”

  “All right, then, let me jump,” Melissa says as we pick up the ropes, with more excitement this time. “One-two-three.” Melissa slips into the ropes and kicks her knees up like she’s exercising, but she’s keeping them off the ropes. “I’m doing it! I’m doub
le-Dutching! Ha ha!”

  “Yeah! Keep going! You got it! Awesome!” Sally and I cheer simultaneously. She jumps a few more seconds, then tries to do a turn, but her feet get caught in the ropes. She’s done.

  “Damn!” Melissa yells. “I mean, darn!”

  “You’ll have to get the basics before doing other stuff,” I tell her. “But that was good!” Melissa jumps up and down, smiling.

  “Your turn, Tina,” Melissa prompts. “Let’s see how you do, Ms. Fancy-Pants.”

  “Okay.” Tina shrugs. Sally and I begin turning the ropes at the same slow pace we did for Melissa.

  “Uh, can you guys turn a little faster? Oh, and wait.” Tina plugs in her earbuds. Sally and I look at each other like, What? We turn faster, as she requested. To our surprise Tina gets in after the third loop! She’s jumping and turning and even shaking her head as if she’s dancing.

  “Tina!” Sally says. “She got it!”

  “Wow!” I am in shock.

  “Show-off!” Melissa snickers. Tina can’t hear a word we’re saying with her earbuds in, but she catches the ropes with her feet.

  “Huh?” Tina asks.

  “That was so awesome, Tina!” Sally says.

  “I thought you said you didn’t know how to jump,” I say.

  “Well, I watched some videos online and practiced the footwork in my room,” Tina says nonchalantly. “It seems like it’s all about rhythm and coordination of the ropes.” Okay.

  “Maybe I’ll just be a turner?” Melissa suggests.

  “That might be a good idea,” Sally agrees. I shoot her a look. “I mean, we’ll see.”

  “Once we get the basics down, we can put in some real moves,” I say, picking up the ropes. “So let’s keep going until everyone learns each other’s rhythm. Everybody needs to be able to jump in at any time, just in case something happens.”

  “Like what?” Sally crosses her arms. “Like someone freezes?”

  “I wasn’t even thinking that.” I really wasn’t. I was thinking a twisted ankle or something like that. Obviously Sally still has jitters about getting back in competition. Now that she’s brought it up, I start to think, What if she does freeze?

  “I’m not going to freeze!” Sally insists. Melissa grabs the other end of the ropes and hands them to Sally.

  “Come on, Princess, just in case,” Melissa says. “Let me try it again.”

  “Okay, but stop calling me Princess,” Sally says.

  “Well, stop treating me like I’m a peasant, and we’re good,” Melissa answers. Now we’re getting along…somewhat.

  I don’t think Melissa is trying to be snide; she is just determined to learn how to jump double Dutch. And as we practice all morning and afternoon, I begin to really like her and Tina. Melissa is gritty and fearless. I admire that about her. She is still struggling with jumping, but I take her to a tree at the end of the yard and wrap the rope around it.

  “What are you doing?” Melissa asks.

  “This is how almost everyone learns how to turn rope,” I say as I try to explain nicely. “The ropes should sound like tic-tic, tic-tic, and not tic—toc, tic—toc.” I demonstrate. “If it sounds like this, you get called double-handed, which means you can’t turn.”

  “Give me that.” Melissa grabs the ends and starts to turn. “Tic-tic, tic-tic,” she begins. It’s awkward, but she keeps trying to catch the rhythm.

  “Keep turning!” I say. “Loosen your arms. You’ll get it!”

  “All right already!” Melissa yells, irritated. “Let me concentrate.”

  Melissa doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who is easily bossed around, so I leave her alone quickly. She’s really getting the rhythm of the ropes now. Tina, on the other hand…Her dancing skills are turning out to be really helpful, but we’ll have to get her to jump without earbuds so she can hear us. We can’t have those earbuds getting in the way of the ropes. That’s going to be a challenge.

  Although we spend all day together getting the basics down, we haven’t even come close to putting together a routine. We still have work ahead of us if we’re going to compete like a real team, or even possibly be able to beat those Belles. Melissa trips and falls. Ugh! Looks like tomorrow is going to be another full day of double Dutch.

  * * *

  —

  Now that Tina and Melissa know how to get in the ropes and jump for a few beats, Sally and I spend Sunday teaching them the first test in double Dutch: compulsory, where our teammates turn the ropes like a slow-speed eggbeater while the other two jumpers lift the left leg over the right and then right over left, careful not to catch or stop the ropes. No biggie, right? Well…Sally and I turn really slow and count them in: “Ready? One-two-three-four-go!” we call. First Tina gets in, then Melissa. Good! But they soon mess up. No!

  “I’m sorry!” Melissa apologizes. “One more time, one more time!”

  If they don’t get this, we’ll never qualify. I don’t want us to fail. I try not to worry and we start all over again…and again, and again. We keep going until the sprinklers and the house lights come on. Finally they get the compulsory down pat. And we haven’t even begun to think of a routine. I guess we’ll have to do that at camp…in front of everybody.

  * * *

  —

  It took us all weekend long, but I’m glad Sally and I were able to teach Melissa and Tina the basics of double Dutch. Thank goodness! Hmm, I never thought my cousin and I would work together on anything. Now, at camp, as the teams are called, we’ll have to show the coaches what we can do. There are two younger teams, ten-year-olds who are so cute with their game faces on. They’re pretty good with their leapfrog and push-up routines. Even though it’s baby stuff, Tina’s and Melissa’s mouths are open in awe. The other older team is the Belles. They try to show off some of their freestyle with a few double-handed flips and cartwheels, a more toned-down version of what Sally and I saw a few days ago, but it’s good. Okay, really good. It’s our turn. The Belles snicker as we take the floor.

  “Let’s not try anything fancy,” I tell my team. They’re obviously nervous.

  “We can’t,” Melissa blurts out. “I don’t know half the things those little kids did.”

  “We’ll just do what we learned,” I say reassuringly. “Compulsory.”

  “This is not cool.” Sally ducks her head. I know it’s not crushing the Belles, but we have to show them we can at least jump.

  Very carefully and slowly, Melissa and Sally jump in…and lift one foot…and out. All I keep thinking is Don’t mess up! Get it right! One down. Then Tina and I do the same. Yes, we did it! We hear a little snicker, probably from the Belles, but hey, no one said we had to do a whole routine, so we leave it at that.

  “Uh, okay. Good, you guys,” says Coach Kirsten. “So are you planning on competing in speed and freestyle as well, or…?”

  “Yes.” “No.” “Freestyle?” “What’s that?” The four of us speak at once. I shoot my team a look, then step up as if I am captain.

  “Yes, we’ll be competing in speed and freestyle,” I say matter-of-factly. I’m faking it, but I can’t bring myself to chicken out.

  “Oh, come on! They’re not ready for speed,” Ivy heckles. “They can barely jump.”

  I give her a hard stare. She just had to push me.

  “Can you turn?” I ask the blond coach, which catches her off guard.

  “Uh, yeah, sure,” she says as she grabs the ropes from my hands. I hand the other end to Sally.

  “Just keep your eye on my left foot like your life depends on it,” I say, looking directly into Sally’s eyes.

  “Left foot. Right. Okay.” Sally doesn’t flinch. As the ropes begin to spin, a silence comes over the gym. All eyes are on me. I get in the ropes and…my foot gets caught! Ugh! There’s laughter, and I can imagine from who.


  “Give her a chance.” The coach quiets the group. I quickly think about why I’m here and how my cousin is looking at me like a big sister now. I must get this right. I glide through the ropes and find a groove.

  “One-two, one-two! Faster!” I yell as I focus on Sally’s hands. They turn faster and the ropes sound like wind in a storm as they spin around my head. I keep jumping through the oohs and aahs! I stay focused until I feel like I’ve given them enough. The jumpers applaud as I slow down and jump out with ease. Everyone’s impressed except for the Belles. They smirk as if to say, So what? Who cares? That wasn’t even my best.

  “That’s my teammate. Whoop-whoop!” Melissa and Tina cheer.

  “Wow! That was great!” Coach Kirsten says, impressed. “I think we have a real competitor here.” I smile at my cousin, who is relieved we were able to show them we have more than they think we have. The coach hands me the ropes, then turns to the entire group. “Okay, jumpers, we have only a couple more weeks before regionals.”

  “Two weeks?” I scream, shocked.

  “Yeah, right, they’ll be ready for regionals!” Ivy calls out sarcastically as everyone laughs.

  “Quiet down, everyone,” Coach Kirsten commands. She is no Ms. Jackson, who would have been blowing the heck out of her whistle. Coach Kirsten turns her attention back to our hodgepodge team. “I think you guys might be able to compete in speed, but your numbers have to be really impressive for nationals.” She has no idea how good I really am at speed. “And if you want to go for freestyle, well, you’ll have to put a routine together pretty quickly. Do you think you can do that?”

  “Yes.” “No?” “Maybe.” Again, clearly we’re not on the same page.

  “We’ll be ready,” I say, faking confidence.

  “Okay, good,” she says, “I look forward to seeing it.” She’s being nice, but I don’t think she believes we can do it. She turns to the group. “And that goes for everyone. We’ll help you with compulsory if you need it, and speed. If you’re competing in freestyle, which three teams are, remember you’ll have to come up with your own two-minute routine. The coaches are only here to supervise freestyle. So you and your team captain will have to decide on everything. Music, costumes…”