1 - Routine

by Anton Licht

Lilia from Ukraine is just putting chalk on her feet as mom is entering with sandwiches dressed in sliced pickles. She is radiating tension - of course, Lilia, not mom, although momma is also frowning as she is hypnotizing the plates of bread.

“I like Lilia”, I say. Since I get no response, I decide to fix my statement. “So far, Lilia is my favorite”. Melina next to me is making a loud sniff, showing her disapproval. Not the reaction I was looking for. Maybe she has problems with her nose. “What? I like the red outfit and her shiny collar.”

“It’s not about the outfit, dumbo. It’s all about the performance,” states Melina. My eyes wander back to the screen as Lilia starts running. “I like her performance too”, I mumble.

At the moment Lilia is vaulting, the image on the screen is losing its color and starts flickering again and my mom leans in front of me picking up our empty cups. What’s next? A hurricane? I can barely hear the audience’s reaction.

“Nope,” Melina announces. “The landing wasn’t clean.” Obviously, watching the summer games made her a professional gymnastics teacher.

“Well, that’s your opinion,” I conclude. I heard dad saying this to mom before when he wasn’t happy with the turn their argument took. “What is the score anyway?” I ask. “Can’t see it.” Melina is trying to fix the screen with her piercing look. The TV keeps flickering unimpressed.

“Girls, don’t forget to eat,” mom says. “It’s an absolute exception that we eat so late today and that we do it in front of the TV. Be careful not to drop anything. It’s dark.” I dropped some cucumber earlier, breaking the one golden rule. I decide not to mention it.

“The TV is not working anyway, “ Melina complains, “DAD!?”

“One second, my hamsters,” we hear from the hallway. “It’s still not working!” Melina shouts. My mom is rolling her eyes, leaves the room, and turns into dad. I imagine how my mom would come back with another plate, first balancing on the chairs like on a beam and then vaulting over the couch.

Dad’s repairing skills include shaking and hitting the TV, unplugging and plugging some cables, and stating how weird everything is. My mom supports him from the other room, by reminding him how he wanted to fix it already last week. Melina still stares.

I pick one of the sandwiches. “Shannon was really good,” I explain to dad. He missed everything so far. “But I like Lilia too.” Oops, I spit on the plate. Nobody notices. “But she wasn’t good,” Melina has to say. She picks one of the contaminated sandwiches.  I wonder how many liters of other people’s spit we swallow in our lifetime. Well, it runs in the family, I think. That’s what Melina usually says before she drinks from my glass. But does being family make us spit-compatible? If I had a twin, would our saliva be the exact same?

“Let me see if we have another antenna.” papa says, disappearing into the darkness and turning back into mom. She is not doing a backflip, neither is she carrying more food. I shrug, close with the statement “well” while rolling my eyes, and pick the last slice of bread.

“Girls, when you are done eating, you jump quickly under the shower,” mom says. I look at her but then the suddenly resurrected TV is grabbing my attention. “Oh it’s back,” says Melina. “Dad, it’s baahaack!” I shouty inform dad.

“Did you hear what I said?”, mom asks. Melina and I nod but disappear through the TV frame into the gymnast world.

“Now ladies and gentlemen, here is what to look for in an uneven bar routine. An uneven bar routine will include swinging, and circular movement, transferring from bar to bar, returns, and stands, kips, and other special moves without pauses or supports. The judges will be evaluating the gymnast form, the techniques she uses, and how they are connected. Also, the way her body passes between the bars and the difficulty of the movement.” I imagine how I would wear that red outfit and wrap myself around the bars. I see the judges holding big signs with ten points to me and my mom carrying a plate with a golden medal, celebrating my performance. Melina is just nodding with acknowledgment, saying “Well done, sis.” And then she makes this cool click sound with the finger pistol and winky eye.

Now Ionela from Romania gets ready for the vaulting. “Let’s see if she can beat your favorite”, says the present, less cool Melina with a nasty grin towards me. “She would beat only you”, I say, giving back Melina what she deserves. The future-her is so much nicer.

Ionela starts running but when her feet release the springboard, the TV decides to increase the tension by increasing the visual noise. “Ochhh!”, I hear Melina and then a huge mom appears in front of the flickering mess. Did she just vault here?

“Girls, that’s it. Shower time.” I try to peek through her legs and around her. “We don’t know yet, who won,” I explain. “Shannon and Lilia need our support.” “Why would they need your support?”, Melina grins and pokes me in the side. “Ouch!” It didn’t really hurt, but I still feel like it did.

“Momma,” Melina takes over the negotiations. But mom stays unimpressed and routes us with aerobic movements towards the corridor. I take the challenge. I make a ten-point roll backward to more or less land on my feet and on a little bit of couch but then compensate by spreading my arms to the sides and demonstrating a charming landing position. No one claps, just the TV swooshes. Well, could be also the noise of thousands of people applauding. I don’t mind.

I decide to finish off my routine with half of a pirouette but then hit the couch table and throw one of the plates upside down on the carpet. No time to care, I need to tighten my second landing position.

“Anne!” Oops, that’s me. “How often shall I tell you not to romp about the living room.” That’s my mom but did she even see my performance? “I’m perfectionizing my routine.” But mom’s facial expression shows me that she is too focused on that unnoteworthy plate right now. I pick it up and then also pull the buttered knife from the carpet, together with the biggest crumbles. One or two are still good and I put them in my mouth.

“If you make such a drama every time we stay up late, then we can’t do that anymore.” Mom just hit the wound point. Melina and I, sisters reunited, show our frustration with long “Moooooom”s and disbelieving “Really?”s. Till Melina throws me under the bus. “It’s just dumbo who is making a mess here.” I give her a slaying look. She will never understand a true artist and athlete. I open my mouth to set the facts straight but mom is faster. “Girls, no more negotiation, just go. Or we won’t check the results tomorrow.” The stakes are high, I decide to comply and tiptoe over my imaginary beam to the bathroom.

“Tomorrow, I gonna start my jumping and bar training.”, I proclaim while getting under the way too cold water of the shower. In my head, I’m already planning out the training parkour in grandmas garden. “You just gonna hurt yourself again,” says Melina who is drying herself with the towel. Mom doesn’t notice, her attention is stuck with her in the door frame. She is constantly carrying objects in and out of the bathroom while shouting to dad and not listening to his yells. “I gonna be an Olympian in a few years.”, I say. I barely see mom because of the water in my eyes. But I guess she is shaking her head more to the universe than to what I said. “You will need to train a lot,” Melina says. “Yes, I’ll train a lot of a lot of a lot.”, I nod energetically, “and I will start tomorrow.” Seems like I convinced Melina, whose eyebrows raise and turn her face into a smile. “I will come with you to the summer games,” she says. “You can even sit in the front row.” Damn, I’m generous. “Or be my trainer.”

If somebody knows me best, it’s Melina. If we build the parkour in grandma’s garden together it’s gonna be even greater. Mom is reentering the bathroom, still frowning but not saying anything. I guess that means she is pleased with the way things are going. She sits down on the toilet lid and watches us drying. “Anne decided to do gymnastics,” tells Melina to mom and picks the ear with the head to the side. Not sure if mom really hears us. “And Melina is gonna help me with training.” That must excite her. “Great girls. Now, brush your teeth, yea?” mom says with an exhausted tone. I kind of expected a bigger celebration.

But no time to lose, I need to test out my potential. While I’m brushing, I do little jumps on the spot with closed feet. I am good at what I’m doing. Time to level up. Melina, also having her toothbrush in her mouth, shows me the track from the sink to the door. I try to reach the end with only two one-legged and one two-legged jumps. Nailed it. Gosh, I’ll win those games.

I look back to Melina who claps one-handed and then spins her finger in the air, the sign to reverse the exercise. With my turned head focused on the sink, I jump backward. This time slightly struggling. Ouff, that got messy. I kind of spread my toothpaste-spit mix everywhere. Melina laughs but Mom who just realizes what happened is rolling her eyes. “How often should I tell you not to play around while brushing your teeth?” I feel like she doesn’t really want to know the answer. Still, I try to count in my head.

I finish up the brushing, spit everything into the sink, and start cleaning myself again while mom takes over the spots on the floor and on the washing machine. Finally, my mouth is free again. “Mom, can I be a gymnast?”, I ask but before she reacts, dad bursts into the bathroom. “I found another antenna.”, he says to mom. “But not today anymore, it’s already late.”, mom defends. My thoughts jump back to Lilia from Ukraine. “Can we just watch the last few minutes?”, Melina begs and Dad just disappears again. “Oh yes, pleaaaaseee! I need to learn all the tricks from them,” I try to support the case. But mom stays stubborn. “Do you see what you are doing?”, she yells to dad. I put my pajamas on and decide to finish my routine by turning a cartwheel. This will demonstrate to mom, how serious and ready I am. I’ll need her buy-in and support to become the world-class gymnast I’m supposed to be.

The moment my hands touch the cold ground and my legs go into the air I get the feeling that I might have overestimated the spatial situation between bathroom and hallway. So, I first hit Melina and then the door frame full-body. I don’t see momma, I don’t see anything. Pain. I hear the crowd applauding in the living room. Yes, I’m ready.