Not That Kind of Girl, Part 6

We—Mom and Dad and Deb and Jeff and I—we walk into the gathering room and sit among the people of The Ranch. A commune, Mom calls it. I don’t know what to call it, but I don’t like it here. The houses look like shacks. They're all connected to one another and to the big, tumbled-down building in the middle that holds this gathering room.

Victor, the man who invited us here, is the leader. He and each of his five sons look like what they are: timber cutters and tree haulers. They are tall—practically giants—and their arms look like tree trunks; their hair and beards are long and wild. Their women are small and quiet; their hair is long and neat, their dresses long and modest.

Victor walks to the center of the stage at the front of the room. His granddaughter walks behind him, leading Teddy. Teddy must not be related to Victor. He’s short and not so hairy. Everything about his small frame speaks of power: The muscles of his arms, his shoulders—even his neck—stand out like coiled ropes. His gray eyes are blank, unlike Victor’s dark eyes where small fires burn fiercely.

After Victor's introduction, Sonia leads Teddy to a blue mat at the side of the stage and retreats to the opposite corner.

Sonia’s bare feet slap the hardwood floor as she runs. Her long ponytail swishes from side to side, flying higher and higher as she picks up speed. She flings her tiny body into the air and Teddy catches her on his shoulders. He grasps her white ankles, takes a couple of steps toward the edge of the mat, and stops. He lets go and holds his arms out wide. Together they stand, completely motionless.

Teddy brings his hands to his waist and Sonia leans down and to grasp them. She slowly transfers her weight to her hands and then kicks her feet into the air. Balanced there, her crotch rests inches from his face and his from hers.

I shift on the hard wooden bench and look at Mom. She and Daddy share a glance that reflects what I’m thinking: Something is very wrong here. Sonia and I are the same age and I damn sure wouldn't want Teddy's hands all over me. I don't even want to watch this. I want to go home.

Teddy lowers his hands; Sonia folds her legs over her head and down to the floor. A dozen children swarm the stage, tumbling across the mats. For an hour, Teddy leads the group in fantastic displays of strength and grace. When they gather for their bows, Sonia stands next to Teddy, holding his hand. His gray hair glistens with sweat; her small chest heaves. When the applause fades, Sonia leads Teddy from the gathering room.

* * *

Sonia isn’t there for the first day of school in the fall. We didn’t expect her—none of the girls from The Ranch go to school after 8th grade. We hear her grandfather performed the ceremony when he married her off to Teddy. The two of them are putting on gymnastics exhibitions around the country now. Evidently lots of people will pay good money to see a beautiful young girl thrown around by an old, blind gymnast.

Did I mention that Victor came to town in a brand new pick-up last week?