From Jumping: a Novel.
Babe, the narrator is speaking.
“I can remember the first time I jumped rope,” I remember out loud to Miles, “with my sisters holding the ends of the rope, not sure I could navigate the timing and the sweep of the rope, not believing I was as smart and as quick as they were. I have to admit that I was pretty impressed with myself when I knew the rope had cleared the ground under my feet. Then I got my rhythm, and it felt easier. I forgot the sense of accomplishment I got from that. What a rite of passage that was. I had forgotten.”
He laughed and gave a little two-footed jump, shouting back, “That’s what I’m talking about! You made your own jump! And we don’t really forget our jumps. They leave their mark. What would it feel like to you if you jumped right now, Babe–right where you are, not into the Void or even out of a swing? You just jumped. Why can’t we still do it?”
Jumping: a Novel is available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_ss_i_0_14?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=jane+peranteau&sprefix=jane+peranteau%2Cstripbooks%2C327
Photo: Herald Examiner Collection, 1976. LA Public Library Photo Archives. Girls jumping rope at elementary school in Riverside, CA, cheering for summer vacation.