Empty fields, still partly covered by snow, slipped by the windows of the family’s faithful old sedan. Ashley watched, preoccupied, as the farms along Interstate 90 slowly gave way to suburbs and industries. She realized that a big step in her most important dream was soon to be realized...
About when Ashley had turned eight years old, she had begun to imagine herself traveling to distant places and speaking strange languages. At that point in time, her world had consisted of Rapid City, South Dakota, a few nearby towns, and Mount Rushmore National Park.
By age nine she had been as far north as Zeona, South Dakota, almost to the Wyoming border, down to Wind Cave National Park... and then she had lost her parents, and had needed to spend several months in a foster home in Pierre, the state capital, which was half-way across the state.
But by age ten she had been adopted by the kind people she now called Mom and Dad, and had gone with them to Devil’s Tower in Wyoming. Also by that time she could proudly speak about fifty words of Spanish.
Now Ashley was eleven, and Rapid City was still the center of her life. But at last the one thing she was really good at, the one thing she had given her time and energy to, almost to the exclusion of all else, was giving her another piece of her dream. And it could, she knew, make even more dreams come true if what her coach told her was true.
As they passed the sign that announced their official entrance into the city limits of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, Ashley’s eyes were big and round as she
took in the scene before her. She had never seen such a huge city before, with such tall buildings, countless streets, so many different kinds of motels and restaurants, and two interstate highways running through it. And she had never been to a university before, and yet she and her mother were at that moment following signs toward the University of South Dakota itself.
The fact that her sport belonged to the young still didn’t quite make sense to Ashley, even though she knew it was true from watching television and reading books. She knew that she was just now entering the prime time for a gymnast, from age ten to twenty. And yet she wrestled with the fact that universities were for grown-ups. But there she was, just blocks from the only one in South Dakota, where she and others of about her age would be competing to see who was the best gymnast in the state. And it wasn’t any kind of children’s competition — there was no higher level gymnastics meet anywhere in South Dakota. She and about twenty-five other girls from around the state were it.
Her coach had told her that her light and fluid movements were her ticket to the top in gymnastics. She could do a complex floor exercise while hardly making a sound because her landings were so smooth and easy, and people were constantly saying that they weren’t absolutely sure she ever touched the floor. She had done it that way ever since she started four years before at the only gym in Rapid City. She hoped her coach was right, because she knew that the top three gymnasts from her state would be able to compete in the National Championships the following year, which would be in Miami, Florida. A trip to Florida would be the most wonderful addition to Ashley’s dreams that she could imagine.
At that moment they were entering the University of South Dakota, and her mother was following signs to the correct parking lot for the South Dakota State Women’s Gymnastics Championships. She glanced at the lady who had given her a home, a name, and most importantly for her dreams, had let her continue her gymnastics training. “I love you, Mom,” she said without warning.
The late middle-aged woman, who had no other children, glanced at Ashley and could see the moisture in the young girl’s eyes. She corrected her thought — in the grown-up girl’s eyes. For even though her adopted daughter
had only recently passed four feet in height, she had truly become a young woman just a few months before. And that same young woman was about to step onto a university campus. There she would compete for the highest honor South Dakota could offer to a group of athletes who had dedicated themselves to their sport at an age when most children were still spending all their free time with dolls and stuffed animals.
She knew Ashley’s gymnastics training had begun at two hours each week.
By the time of the adoption, it was up to ten hours a week. She smiled, remembering how the nine-and-a-half-year-old had made it very clear, when she and her husband had first met the girl at the state social services office, that she was a gymnast, and if they adopted her, they also adopted gymnastics. And she knew how Ashley’s training and practice had recently increased to thirty or more hours every week as she prepared for this championship meet. She knew with all her heart how much this meant to Ashley.
“I love you too, Ashes,” she said, and the young athlete beside her grinned at her mother’s use of her nickname. “I am proud of you today for all the work you’ve put into this. And remember that I’ll stay proud of you, no matter what happens in that gym.”
“I’m going to win,” Ashley said with total confidence, and grinned again.
Her mother parked the car and Ashley got her large gym bag, stuffed with everything she could imagine needing, out of the back seat. They could see their breath in the crisp early spring air as they headed for the huge gym, Ashley swinging her bag around in complete circles first with one arm, then with the other. At the door, a man stopped them.
“Sorry, gymnasts only.”
“I
am a gymnast. Ashley Riddle from Rapid City.”
The man checked his list. “Right. Your mom will have to use the spectator’s entrance after one o’clock.”
“You go ahead in, Sweetheart. I want to get some lunch first anyway — I can’t survive on carrot sticks and yogurt like you can!”
They embraced. “Thanks, Mom. For so many things!”
“Go join your team! I’ll see you in about an hour.”
Ashley stepped into the huge gym, which was decorated with banners and
balloons everywhere, and then she stopped and breathed deeply. Another piece of her dream had just come true. Even though she and her mother wouldn’t be eating in a restaurant and staying in a motel until that night, and exploring the city until the next day, she was there, in Sioux Falls, South Dakota’s largest city, and that was what mattered.
Ashley looked around. A few gymnasts, most of whom she had never met before, were practicing. Spotting her coach, she dashed in that direction.
“Ashley!” greeted the dark-haired man in his early thirties as they slapped each other’s hands. “This is your day! Are you jazzed?”
“Totally!”
“Our table and exercise mat are over there where Tina is setting out lunch.” He waved and called to the attractive lady of about twenty-five.
“Honey! Ashley’s here! Please feed the team!”
“There’s Sue and Gina!” Ashley said.
“Yeah. Go eat, and then we’ll walk around the gym, talk about some things, and warm-up.”
As she walked across the massive building, Ashley turned around and around, taking in the huge bleachers that looked like they could hold thousands of people, and the four pieces of gymnastics apparatus arranged on the floor with perfectly fitting mats around them, all of which looked brand new compared to their equipment back in Rapid City. Finally she spotted the judge’s table, placed where it had a perfect view no matter which apparatus a gymnast was on. Only one man was sitting there now, turning pages in a big notebook.
The coach’s wife, once a gymnast herself, was setting out chicken and vegetable salads for all three girls from the Rapid City Ravens.
“Ashes, isn’t this fantastic?” a girl about a year older than Ashley said in welcome. “Our only competition is the Sioux Falls team, and if they keep warming-up, they’ll be tired before the meet starts!”
All three girls giggled.
“I’ve heard Aberdeen sends a couple that’ll be hard to beat!” the coach’s wife said.
“Noooo problem,” thirteen-year-old Gina said. “We’re the best!”
They quickly finished their light meal and headed for the locker room to
dress. Ashley took pains making sure all her personal equipment was in perfect condition, and silently said a prayer of thanks that she wasn’t on her period right then. The coach’s wife came in and checked everything again —
leotards, sockies, hair bands, palm guards — and taped all three girls in the places she knew they needed it. Ashley was proud that she needed the least amount of tape, just a little on her wrists. Her coach had assured her that her light landings were her best defense against injuries. She beamed with pride and pulled on her sweats.
As soon as they emerged from the locker room, the coach took them on a detailed tour of the immense gym, pointing out places where lights could get in their eyes, where the angles of walls or beams could look confusing from one or another of the apparatus, and how all of it looked from the judge’s table.
“When your name is called as being next for an event, you need to quickly go to the yellow rug for that apparatus. Look at the floor, breathe, relax, and listen. The next time you hear your name, you move to the green rug. From there you must watch the judges, and no one else, not your team mates, not me, no one. Keep your muscles loose, but don’t act like a monkey. When the judges point to you, look at your apparatus, focus your mind on your routine, and start within a few seconds.”
When the coach had finally finished going over all the rules, they began stretching and gently warming-up. The coach was careful not to get them tired before the competition. When they headed for the equipment for the final part of their preparations, Ashley noticed that the spectators were starting to fill the bleachers. She knew her mother would be amongst them.
Ashley went through a very light floor exercise, and then lined up behind two other girls to use the uneven parallel bars. She could tell by their leotards they were both from the Sioux Falls team, and one of them, tall and about twelve, obviously thought she was the hottest thing to walk the planet Earth.
She kept glancing back at Ashley. Those glances were beginning to make Ashley uncomfortable, but her coach had drilled into all of them the need to be completely respectful of their fellow competitors, so she didn’t say anything. The next girl took to the bars, and a moment later, the twelve-year-old turned around and looked right at Ashley.
“Aren’t you in the wrong competition? Minimum age is ten, you know,”
she said in a voice clearly meant to provoke the shorter girl.
Ashley thought about telling the other how old she really was. And she thought about punching the other’s teeth out. But she decided to do neither.
She just grinned at her, and reminded herself that it didn’t matter what the other girl thought.
At that moment the bars became free and the taller girl started her warm-up. Ashley watched her, and decided that she was serious competition, though she already showed signs of tiring.
While practicing on each apparatus, Ashley paid close attention, as her coach had said, to the fact that the piece of equipment she was on might be technically the same as back in Rapid City, but could have a slightly different feel. She knew already that the exercise floor was a bit more slippery than she was used to, and so planned to chalk her feet well. She soon learned that the bars were a little springier, and so she had to watch herself at one point in her routine or she would over-swing and not be able to reverse her direction. She already knew that on the balance beam she had become used to orienting herself by a certain vertical line on the wall of their gym. That vertical line wasn’t here. And she later found the landing pad behind the vault far too deep for her liking, and thought about how to compensate in order to avoid a poor landing.
As she and the other girls finished their warming-up, some exciting and very rhythmic music began, and an announcer welcomed everyone to the University and to the State Championships. Ashley stood at their table, sipped a tiny cup of juice, and felt the nervous excitement inside her body.
Each team went out to introduce themselves, and she and her team mates did the cartwheel-handspring-somersault routine they had chosen. She was surprised to notice that four different teams had only one person at level seven. She couldn’t imagine what it would be like training with no one else at her level — kind of lonely, she thought. The college team did an exhibition, and the announcer went over some rules. She tried to spot her mother in the bleachers, but couldn’t.
The floor exercise was first, and the Rapid City gymnasts weren’t far from
the beginning of the list. Ashley reminded herself that the judges tended to be conservative with the scores at first, so that if a better performance came along later, they’d be able to score it higher. So she knew she had to do her routine as perfectly as she ever had, maybe better.
Sue did very well, received a score of 9.6, and Ashley was excited for her friend. But Ashley could tell that Gina was nervous, and about halfway through the thirteen-year-old’s routine, she lost her rhythm and nearly stumbled. The judges gave her a 9.0, and Ashley and Sue gave her hugs of reassurance.
Ashley stepped first to the yellow rug, then the green rug. She looked at the judges, and they signaled her. She walked to her starting position, and while waiting for the music, looked at the forty foot square surface. It’s your lightness, Ashley, your ability to make yourself look like you are floating! she remembered her coach saying.
The music started, and she danced as lightly and smoothly as she ever had, melding her tumbling passes into the overall routine, making every difficult skill, every aerial, every somersault look just as light and easy — maybe easier
— than the simpler skills.
The music stopped, and she held her final pose.
The spectators roared with applause, and she modulated her pose into bows in three directions as she had practiced, the direction of the judge’s table last and deepest. As she walked with perfect posture off the floor, she could hear some chants of Ten! Ten! Ten! from the audience. That made her feel warmer inside than she could ever remember feeling before.
As soon as she got back to their area, the announcer was saying, “Ashley Riddle from Rapid City, 9.8.” She jumped up and down with excitement while her team mates and coaches surrounded her to deliver hugs and pats of congratulation. Maybe it isn’t a ten, she told herself, but it’s the best score yet!
“Excellent, Ashley!” she heard her coach saying. “Lightness, rhythm, and a superb finish!”
They quickly settled into watching the other floor routines, and Ashley pulled on her sweats as soon as she was sufficiently cooled off. Scores ranged from 8.9 to 9.7, until the tall twelve-year-old from Sioux Falls stepped onto
the floor. Ashley knew she had beauty on her side, and her routine was very, very good. But to Ashley’s mind it was just a little heavier than it needed to be, and maybe a hair off rhythm.
But the twelve-year-old got a 9.9, and Ashley’s heart sank as she tasted the bitterness of losing the lead score.
“Remember, there are still three events ahead of you, and the line-up is different in each one,” the soothing voice of the coach’s wife said from behind as gentle hands began to massage Ashley’s shoulders. “In fact, you’re up after her on the beam and bars.”
Ashley turned to look at the ex-gymnast. “Thanks, Tina.”
The vaults were next, and Rapid City was even closer to the top of the list.
Ashley was unable to compensate for the deep, squishy landing mat, and took a step forward, which left her with a 9.4. Sue took another 9.6, and Gina felt much better after collecting a 9.8. Several other gymnasts had the same problem with the landing mat, and scores ranged from 7.9 for one girl whose hands slipped when she contacted the vaulting horse, to 9.9 for one of the loners from a small town. The tall girl from Sioux Falls got a 9.7.
Since she had been near the beginning of the vaulting line up, and would be later on the balance beam list, Ashley knew she had a nice long time to relax and watch. In her sweats, a cup of yogurt in hand, she curled up in a comfortable chair and began to ponder the fact that even though she, Ashley Riddle from Rapid City, wanted to be the State Champion, so did all of the other girls. And only one of them could attain that goal, three if she counted the silver and bronze medalists who could also go to the Nationals. How would she feel if she didn’t get first, or even second, or even third? She didn’t know. She’d just have to find out if it happened.
But also she knew that the two remaining events were strong ones for her.
Maybe not quite as strong as the floor exercise, but definitely stronger than her vaulting. And she also knew that the balance beam was feared by many gymnasts, especially tall ones, as their weakest event. She had good reason, she decided, to be optimistic.
The beam event began with a few of the gymnasts from small towns, and one of them came out with a 9.8. Then Sioux Falls was up, and Ashley quickly
saw that it was not a strong event for them generally. But the tall twelve-year-old stepped up to the beam with so much confidence that a hush fell over the spectators. Ashley watched her mount and opening moves, and started to think that the beam wasn’t a weak event for all the Sioux Falls girls.
Cartwheel... walkover... very nice. A slight wobble, well disguised. All the right stuff, technically good, but... even heavier than her floor routine.
Handspring, handspring, and dismount. She landed with excellent poise and the crowd was cheering loudly.
“Cheryl Adams of Sioux Falls, 9.9. On the beam is Renee Clark of Pierre, and up next is Mary McFarland of Rosebud.”
Ashley closed her eyes. Had she just had the honor of seeing the next State Champion do her balance beam routine? Cheryl was very, very good, and would make a good champion. And if her bar routine was anywhere near as good as her other routines, she would be the champion. And the fact that she didn’t like short people didn’t make her gymnastics skills any worse.
A touch on her shoulder made Ashley open her eyes. She looked up to see Tina standing beside her. “You’re three away. Want to stretch?”
“Yeah. Will you help me?”
“Of
course.”
Ashley used all her remaining time to warm-up and stretch out every muscle, and didn’t watch any more of the beam routines, and didn’t think about Cheryl. She realized what she was there to do, and it wasn’t to become State Champion, because that was decided by the judges, not her. It was to do her very, very best, and to have fun doing it. And at that thought, something inside her that had been tight finally relaxed.
“Ashley Riddle is up next.”
She hugged Tina, and skipped over to the yellow rug. While waiting for the gymnast before her to finish, she thought of all the happy times she had had in her life, of all the fun she and her fellow gymnasts had training together.
“Ashley Riddle of Rapid City is on the beam.”
She stepped to the green rug and looked at the judges. None of them were looking at her at that point — they were finishing the scoring of the previous gymnast. She thought she heard someone whisper Have fun Ashley! but a
quick glance behind her showed that no one was close enough. A smile crept onto her face — not one of her big grins, but just a subtle, inner smile. A judge gave her the signal.
Her hands reached out and grasped the beam. She knew that feel, like most people know the feel of plain old solid ground under their feet. She mounted, and her routine flowed from her feet and hands and body just as it did in Rapid City. This is fun! she thought to herself, and started adding tiny little flourishes to her poses. And all her skills were just like they should be —
smooth, and light, with not a sound coming from the beam. Her final handsprings and dismount flowed from her without thought or effort, her landing felt perfect, and as she took her bows, she started to become aware, for the first time, that the audience was practically screaming. It had been a nice routine, she realized. And with three quarters of the spectators on their feet now, she knew she was smiling from ear to ear. She bowed low to the judges, and tried to wipe the grin off her face, but couldn’t.
As she pranced up to her coaches and team mates, they surrounded her in the warmest group hug she had ever had. “Fantastic, Ashley! That was unbelievable!” declared her coach.
With everyone saying nice things to her, she was starting to get embarrassed. At last they all settled into chairs or onto the mat to stretch.
Ashley realized that in all the hugging, she hadn’t heard her score. “What did I get? I forgot to listen.”
Her coach looked at her. “They haven’t said, yet.”
All of them turned their attention to the judges table. They could see the judges talking among themselves, and the audience was becoming hushed, as they too sensed that something unusual was occurring.
“I think I know what’s happening,” Tina said. But before Ashley could even try and guess what she meant, the announcer stepped to his microphone.
“Ashley Riddle of the Rapid City Ravens... ten.”
Ashley jumped straight up into the air and whooped for joy. Her team surrounded her once more and the audience cheered again. When she finally could get a word in, all she could say was, “I didn’t know they gave tens!”
“They don’t like to,” the coach said, “but they trapped themselves by giving Cheryl Adams a 9.9, and yours was obviously better! Congratulations!”
By the time Ashley had settled down enough to breathe deeply and think clearly, the last few beam routines had been completed, and the uneven parallel bar event had begun. Ashley discovered that she was near the end, and that Cheryl was just two people before her. She used the restroom, sipped a cup of juice, and watched the other gymnasts get everything from 7.5 for a Sioux Falls girl who fell and pulled a muscle and so couldn’t complete her routine, to a 9.5 from Aberdeen.
Cheryl Adams stepped up to the bars. Ashley didn’t watch the entire routine, as she had to start her stretching, but she saw enough to know that it was solid and good. And it earned Cheryl a 9.5, which Ashley was pretty sure meant that Cheryl was the next State Champion. That was okay. Ashley knew what she was there to do. And bronze and silver medals, if she happened to get one, were very nice also.
The next gymnast went, got a 9.3, and Ashley found herself wishing there were even more events after that one, as she was enjoying her new carefree attitude so much. Seeing Cheryl get all those good scores had released Ashley from a self-imposed responsibility that had felt a little too heavy. She checked her palm guards, chalked her hands, and waited for the judges’ signal.
Ashley’s lightness showed in a different way on the bars. They bent less under her weight, they squeaked less, and she could fly much higher than most gymnasts on her dismount. And in her final performance for the people who had gathered in Sioux Falls, South Dakota, she decided to use those factors to the fullest. Every time she stretched her body straight, above or below the bars, she imagined herself stretching out to a full five or six feet.
And when she released for her dismount, she tucked into a tiny ball, imagining herself a bird in flight, and then landed as lightly as a sparrow.
The crowd cheered for her, and she was glad she had done well and made them happy. She took her bows, and immediately began to wonder what kind of restaurant she wanted to go to that night. Something they don’t have in Rapid City, she decided.
“Ashley Riddle of Rapid City, 9.9”
She shared some hugs and shoulder pats with her team mates and found a cup of juice and a chair. The last two gymnasts did their bar routines and got 9.0 and 9.2. Her coaches had their heads together, scribbling on a pad of
paper, and then they had a funny look on their faces, as if trying to hold in some kind of secret. The college team came back out and did another exhibition. Finally the judges finished all their writing and conferring, and the announcer stepped to the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the results of this year’s South Dakota Women’s Gymnastics Championships. With a total score of 38.7, the bronze medal goes to Terry Raincloud of Aberdeen!” Ashley stood with everyone else and clapped for the lucky third place winner.
“With a total score of 39.0, the silver medal goes to Cheryl Adams of Sioux Falls!” Ashley clapped for Cheryl, and really did feel happy for her. She might have a foul mouth, but she was an awesome gymnast. It took awhile for the clapping and cheering for Cheryl to taper off.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, our State Champion for the year, with a total score of 39.1, the gold medal goes to Ashley Riddle of Rapid City!”
Everyone cheered wildly, and a number of hats went flying into the air.
Ashley’s entire team was looking and smiling at her, huge grins of pride on their faces. She didn’t know what to do. She had never been very good at math, and hadn’t even added up her own scores, much less anyone else’s.
“Me?” was all she could think to say.
“You!” her coach said, picked her up and held her high in the air for a moment. The Ashley Riddle grin crept onto her face. He set her down, and said, “Now go get your medal!”
With the audience still cheering and clapping, she ran up to the judge who was presenting the medals. Feeling the ribbon slip over her head, and the heavy gold weight touch her chest almost brought tears to her eyes. Like all the other gymnasts, she had harbored hopes, but those hopes were tempered by the knowledge that this moment was far from inevitable.
But it had happened! This wildest of all dreams had come true! She took her place beside the other two medalists as the crowd and other gymnasts continued to cheer.
The college gymnasts pranced back onto the floor carrying brightly wrapped gifts for all three medalists, but there were some that only Ashley received, which made her feel a little embarrassed. Lastly one of the judges, a gray-haired man, handed them all large envelopes stuffed with some kind of
papers. Ashley noticed that hers was the thickest.
“These are gift certificates from all kinds of businesses in Sioux Falls and a few other towns. Be sure to look through them before going out to eat, or checking into a motel.”
To Ashley’s relief, the limelight shifted as the fourth through tenth places were called up. Everyone cheered, and they received smaller gifts and envelopes. Then the announcer called up all the rest of the gymnasts. They were presented with even smaller gifts and thinner envelopes.
Music started playing and all the gymnasts, coaches, and judges began to mill around, shaking hands and exchanging compliments. Ashley felt there was something she wanted to do. She found the bronze medalist, and held out her hand. “You were awesome, Terry!”
The raven-haired girl smiled and pumped Ashley’s hand happily.
Then Ashley went up to Cheryl Adams. “You were spectacular! I bet if we did it again, you’d win.” Ashley could see that the twelve-year-old was fighting a battle inside herself. “And if you’re ever in Rapid City,” Ashley continued, “you can stay at my house and visit our gym!” Then she held her hand out to the silver medalist. “Friends?”
After several more seconds, the other took Ashley’s hand. “Friends!” she said.
The rest of Ashley Riddle’s visit to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, was a dream-come-true in itself. Amongst the wrapped gifts she found a dual quadraphonic disk player, a fancy myrtlewood jewelry cabinet with glass doors and a programmable music box, and numerous gymnastics books and video disks.
But the gift certificates from the meet’s sponsors were almost more exciting than the gifts. Ashley and her mother had been planning to stay one night in a plain motel. They soon discovered that one of the certificates was for three nights in one of the fanciest places in town. And there were enough certificates from restaurants to feed them for the entire visit, with some left over for a future visit.
Ashley’s eyes almost popped out of her head when she came to the certificate for free round trip air fare for herself and one other person to
anywhere Dakota Air went, which, Ashley discovered, was almost anywhere in five states.
There were gift certificates from department stores, shoe stores, sports shops, and music stores. Ashley rolled with laughter when she came to the free tune-up, lube, and oil change at a Sioux Falls garage. She gave that one to her mother.
Ashley and her mother spent the next two days shopping and sight seeing, and people who had been at the meet, or had seen it on the local news, were constantly stopping Ashley and asking for her autograph, or just saying hello and letting her know that they loved her routines.
Finally the morning came when they had their last breakfast in a restaurant, checked out of the fancy hotel room, and packed all of their gifts and purchases into the newly tuned-up and lubricated sedan. There were still a number of gift certificates remaining, but they were good for a year, and both Ashley and Mrs. Riddle felt ready to go home. Ashley said a silent good-bye to the hotel room, and at her request, they drove back to the university campus, and she poked her head into the huge gym. All the decorations were gone, the gymnastics equipment moved, and a basketball team was practicing.
Even so, Ashley knew it would always remain one of the most special places in the world to her.
The new gymnastics champion was very quiet and thoughtful on the three hundred mile journey home. Everything that had happened to her since her first gymnastics class at age seven went through her mind: all the struggles to learn new skills, all the aching muscles and minor injuries, all the friends, and even a few enemies, she had made along the way. And she remembered all the other things that had happened to her as well, like having to get to know different parents than the ones who had brought her into the world.
As they were passing the little town of Wall, South Dakota, Ashley fell asleep curled up on the front seat of the sedan, tired from the meet, the excitement, the shopping, and the sight seeing, but very, very happy.