Beautiful Eyes by Paul Austin

Author:Paul Austin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W. W. Norton & Company

Sally walked over. “Sarah’s up next.” Sally made an “eek” expression and hunched her shoulders, in play-nervousness.

I smiled back. No one in our family was that competitive about sports, but I knew Sarah would do better than 6, 7, 7. She’d get at least an 8 and a couple of 9’s.

Stepping onto the mat, Sarah had the proud and jaunty walk of gymnasts on TV. In her leotard—blue and red, with white trim—she looked confident and poised. She stood in front of the judges’ table, her head tilted just half a degree, as she waited.

The music started, and Sarah stood a bit straighter and then, holding the red rubber ball in both hands, she raised it above her head and swept her arms to the right, making a slow circle, like the hands of a clock. She stopped with the ball in front of her chest. Her elbows were sticking out to the sides. I didn’t know if they were supposed to be, or not. She took three large steps forward, and stood for a moment with her feet together. She then extended her arms, holding the ball straight out in front, and took three steps backward.

Sarah was moving quickly. Her coach held her arms out, palms down, making a “slow down” motion. Sarah tossed the ball about a foot in the air, and caught it and pulled it to her chest. She then held her arms straight out and lowered them, letting the ball roll from her chest down to her hands. There was a brisk efficiency to each of her movements, and she seemed to be enjoying herself. At the end of the routine, she extended her right leg, and held the pose. The music continued on for two more beats, then stopped.

“Wow,” the other mom said as we all started clapping. “She did great.”

I waved at Sarah, who smiled but didn’t wave back. “She did, didn’t she?” I said.

Sarah stood in front of the judges’ folding table and waited for them to lean over, make notations on a spiral-ring notebook, and then flip the white cardboard squares over, showing her score: 7, 7, 7.

I looked over at Sally, and then back at the numbers. That was at least a 9, 8, 8, or at worst, an 8, 8, 8. But Sarah seemed happy enough with her score, and Sally seemed pleased. I thought it was better than a 7, 7, 7. Way better.

Sarah walked over to where her team was sitting. Her shoulders were back and her chin up, as if still performing. She smiled at Clarisse, a tall African American girl with her hair brushed back into a blue hairband. Clarisse clapped her hands and shouted, “Go, Sarah!” Clarisse was Sarah’s best friend. She had dark, wide-set eyes and a quick smile. There was just a little something “off” in the tone of her voice and the cadence of her speech, but she was outgoing and had a wry sense of humor.

Sarah sat cross-legged, and Clarisse patted her on the back.

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