Letters to Nowhere #1 (Completed!)

Letters to Nowhere: Part 31

February 14

Mom and Dad,

Did it hurt? Who was driving? If I had been in the car, would it have changed anything? Please don't answer this. I don't want a concrete reason to believe in ghosts.

Love, Karen         

              

Coach Bentley,

I want to ask you so many things about your family, but most of the time, I force myself to not think about it. You're the most stable person in my life and you probably were even before my parents' accident and now I really need you to stay that way. I'm sorry if that's selfish.

—Karen

P.S. Thank you for never asking me about going home or getting my car. I'm not ready.

Jordan,

I'm glad you haven't been making out with Sara.

—Karen

***

"Karen Campbell!"

            I froze in my spot up on the high beam, watching Nina Jones, our National Team coordinator, walking toward me, followed by two committee members. Nina was basically the person who made the final decision on every women's gymnastics team that represented the USA, including World and Olympic teams. Despite her short stature and wild gray hair, Nina was the single most intimidating person I'd ever met.

            The most intimidating thing I'd ever met was Nina's clipboard, which she now held pressed to her chest. 

            "Have you ever trained a tucked full on beam?" she drilled, snapping her fingers in the air, indicating I should hop down and stand at attention in front of the three committee members.

            Stacey had been teaching me an even more difficult skill, an Arabian somersault, but Coach Bentley had quickly positioned himself behind Nina. He shook his head slightly, reminding me of our discussion on the flight to Houston. "Just...uh...on a line...in the off-season."

            Bentley nodded his approval. Nina exchanged glances with the other committee members and then her eyes beamed like lasers right at me. "Show me on the line, please."

            She snapped again and I hurried over to the gymnastics floor, placing my feet on one of the white taped lines.

I quickly showed Nina and her two sidekicks my back tucked full, which is basically a back tucked flip with a full twist. I bent my knees on the landing, pressing my feet into the slick white tape as if it were a beam high in the air.

"Again," she said.

This continued ten more times. Luckily this skill had no impact on my sore shoulder and provided a nice break from doing full beam routine.

"One more time," Nina said. "Make sure your chest is up when you land."

One more time led to another ten attempts with me applying the correction she'd given me. By that time, Coach Bentley was much closer to us and several of the other girls were watching to see what Nina was up to. Usually we only trained routines at camp, not new skills. They didn't want to see something that wasn't ready for competition. There was no time for that.

"Now, let's take it up there." She pointed to the high beam that had a sixteen-inch crash mat under it. The extra mat was better than nothing, but there was still a big gap between the beam and the mat.

In reality, there was no difference between the low beam and high beam. If you could perform a skill six inches above the ground, then you could do it twenty feet above the ground. It became a mental game.

I hopped up onto the beam and expected to feel my legs shake with fear, but they didn't. Instead I had that rush of adrenaline that I craved so much lately. I could feel the skill practically tingling through my fingertips.

"Nina, I don't think—" Bentley started to say, but Nina held up a hand right away to shut him up.

[PLEASE VOTE! AND COMMENT! I LOVE COMMENT!]