Hipkey, slide down, thighs cramp and tremble, don’t know if it’s my pants or the silk that’s slippery. Let go to test and slow then lightning-fast drop and I brace myself and the knot on my thigh digs deep into the bruises of practice and my shoulder thumps to the mat, fallbreaking hand letting go searing white-hot.
Untangle the leg, hold the hand. I am told: Cold water. Cold water, go, now, fast as you can.
The cold soothes the aching burn. My shoulder grinds in its socket. Almost skinned the cat but did not.
I go again on the blue. Align with the mat so my swing stays from the hardwood. Split the silk and Russian once, twice, hipkey over on just one side. Clench down with the thighs, scissor-position, torso angled horizontal from grasping the opposite pole too far down. Put the tail between my legs, key back over. Grab the tail? I cannot reach. Swap my hands, try again. I am told: Wrong hand. Put both hands on the free pole. I pike on the way down and grab the silk at the last minute to lessen the blow; my shoulder is winched behind me and tugged impossibly up— brace, hold tension, let go heartstop and hit the mat with the rest of my body. Numb, un-numb, piece of meat stunned lie there.
I am asked, Are you okay? I don’t know. For now, I say, Yes.
I am told, Take a break. I do not want to. It is repeated. I accept.
The water scrapes my throat raw on the way down. I am here. I persist.
My instructor is not looking, busy with a student on the black silk. A different student thumps to the mat from hipkey. I suspect the silks were recently washed.
Take the pink this time — it is the slipperiest, but at this point succeeding on any other is cheating. Hold both sides in separate hands and dangle heavy-torsoed, bow-legged. Breath is hot, stagnant, sick and yellow-tasting. Open the eyes, deep measured breath, hoist up pretending there is nothing wrong. Fold the silk between the feet and ascend. Do not try to hipkey from Russian — too much went wrong earlier. Climb twice, feet high to the chest, and windmill into hipkey. Keep straight. Weight threatens unsocketing the elbow on the free pole. Raise the stiffest scissor and bring the tail between the legs and key over again. Keep conscious of the potential for sliding down — adjust the tail, then grab it properly with the right hand even though the hand on the free pole is too low. Bring the tail up with the hand to meet the top of the hipkey silk, clamp up about a foot, anchor there.
Sidetwist the body up, curl the free leg into a knife and pierce the slit between the keyed silk and tail and quickly, yes, quickly now pivot the hips and—
Yes. Burning, shaking, feverchill but it is complete. I have done it. A minor change in altitude.
The instructor has noticed my ascent. I am told, Keep going! My legs shake. My forearms threaten to snap their tendons. I reach for the still-warm but free opposite silk and I bring the new tail between my legs. I—
Thump.
It was the highest anyone got that day.