He pulled the orange spandex with its ridiculously sparkly sequins over one leg, then the other. He stood up and began tugging at the waist, getting everything in its place. He looked across the dressing room at the mirror and laughed at himself. Tonight was his first performance, ever.
He squeezed into more shiny clothing and started pacing the room. Other performers encouraged him as they came from or passed him on the way to their own time slots. Everyone had seen him practicing with the team and knew he was a natural, so there was nothing to worry about.
The manager yelled at people and lined them up. He had animals, humans, props, lights and music to worry about and wouldn’t allow the audience to experience a single dull moment. Everything had to be perfect. He shoved boxes, stands and electronics around as needed, told dancers to fix their makeup and had everyone in their place as they were needed.
He rubbed chalk dust all over his hands while he waited for their cue. Sweaty palms could ruin a show like this one. The three of them lined up in the dark. The spotlight hit them, and traced the path they ran to the swings. Each grabbed a rope, placed a foot on a bar, then held on as winches in the ceiling jerked them from the floor. Their performance would take place at forty feet in the air.
The music started and they went to it. He swung back and forth in time with the others, pushed himself backward off the bar and tucked it behind his knees. He curled under the bar and reached both arms out just in time to catch the female performer. They swung together for only a few seconds before he tossed her back. Lights strobed in different colors and the songs changed as he caught the other performers and threw them around to catch perfectly-timed swings and hands. So far, the show was perfect. But he also didn’t have to leave his swing yet. His jump was one of the biggest in the routine.
The moment he’d been the most worried about was approaching. He’d practiced it more than a hundred times now and fell less than five of them. He knew what he was doing, but he also had an audience tonight. People paid to be impressed, they were watching, hoping to see something spectacular. Even if he fell, it’d be quite the show and it wasn’t like he could change his mind now.
He shifted his weight, took a deep breath and had a full two seconds to think about it. There was time to look for the hands that would catch him. They were so far away. He exhaled, swung and let go of the bar.
★ ★ ★
There’s something terrifying and exhilarating when there’s a hint of danger mixed with spandex and orange sequins. Most things worth doing will be a little scary and few of them require the gaudy attire. They demand risk. Meaningful endeavors put you forty feet in the air and have people taking pictures of you when you’re between trapezes. The thing about those pictures is that none of them ever seem to capture the hope and hesitation that we all experience when we’re waiting to be caught.
This was written for One Word at a Time, hosted by Peter Pollock. Check out the other stories!
almost flying
Nance, I feel like you would be flying. Random as that sounds, I mean it as a complete compliment.
I felt the anticipation and the danger as I was reading. Letting go of the swing to reach hold of the next one is a risky thing. Thankful God has our back.
Lisa, it’s entirely true. We don’t even need a net.
I’m convinced it’s the spandex. Something similar happens when I go biking.
Good post, Jake.
Glynn, I think you’re right. Thank you.
“There’s something terrifying and exhilarating when there’s a hint of danger mixed with spandex and orange sequins.” –Okay, seriously. I’m writing a book of Jake quotes.
I always appreciate how you seamlessly move from ridiculous to thought provoking.
Thanks friend! You know, you’re pretty good at mixing the two as well.
Great, vivid story! I need to let go of the bar. But first, where did I leave my spandex?
Thanks Frank! Letting go is the hard part, but it’s entirely necessary!
You are so right! I’m always in a trouble when wearing orange spandex and sequins.
I’m a winter — orange is not my colour!
Seriously — great post. And yes — going from the ridiculous to the provocative is an art form. And you are a master of the form!
Thank you friend! I have to ask, what is your color? I love orange. It brings me joy. Which probably sounds weird… oh well. And thanks for the compliment, I’m not so good at going from ridiculous to anything else in conversation, I just sound like I’m nuts most of the time!
I have found that doing anything of value or deep purpose does tend to feel like I’m 100 feet in the air swinging on rope. Kind of scary, but definitely worth it.
Maybe next time, I’ll have to put on the orange sequin spandex. Could be fun. lol
Jason, you can’t have my spandex.
But you’re right, anything worth doing takes risk. Some people end up falling to God knows what… but I think most of the time we can get back up. Only most of the time though…
I refuse to jump unless I can wear the gaudy attire!
Okay, seriously, I’m not a risk taker, but if I was, I’d want to wear orange sequins while taking the risk!
Helen, you’re amazing. And funny. And ridiculous. It’s why we’re friends.
Wow! I’m glad I stopped by! That was a seriously entertaining story… I really hope the other guy caught him.
We’ll say he did. Happy endings are more fun. 🙂 Glad you stopped by Lainie!
Jake! Bravo, my friend! Just when I think you’ve written the best post, I read another one that captures me even more. You’ve succeeded beautifully in this one (especially with the spandex!). The message is most timely for me. I hit a wall last night and felt as if there was nowhere to jump to. The window wouldn’t budge so I can get to the edge to jump. Others around me seem to have their opportunities to leave, jump, fly and I’m stuck in spandex…still waiting. But when the time comes, I will jump faster than the light can catch the sequins, fully knowing that God’s hands are there to catch me. Now where is the swing? I’m searching in faith. Thank you for writing this!!
Thanks Ang! I hope you’re feeling better about everything. I think the scary thing is that you might just have to jump without looking first. It keeps so many people in place to not see or understand where they’ll land, but God is good. He’ll help as long as you aren’t being excessively foolish. But if you jump like you’re threatening to, I’ll have to fight you. Just sayin’.
Nice job man! That’s faith… I’ve found that type of faith in others and ourselves is thrilling and dangerous, but the faith we have in God to catch us is pure peace and joy, even when we’re sailing through the air with no idea how we’re going to land. Love the vivid text. My hands were beginning to sweat!
I love jumping off of out from things. It’s just such a rush. I took the girl I was dating skydiving for her birthday last year… we BOTH loved it. Landing was tricky though. She got dragged across the grass on her bum while I came in running, it certainly was a trip!
Love it, Jake. So true. Great story–thanks.
Thanks Jason!
WOW – breath taking. A leap of faith for sure, then those hands reach out and grasp us – safe at last!
Your post was Poetry in motion and much enjoyed!
Thank you Hazel!
The key is putting on the spandex. Then there is no turning back. Another helpful tip is getting someone else to put theirs on to and line up right behind you. That way, they can barricade you forward. 😉
Dropping by for a little VML. As always, I’m never disappointed. Love this, Jake!
Bonnie, you’re great. Part of me is hoping that you and your husband do this for each other!