Skipping the Light Fantastic
‘You’d never believe it to look at her, but there goes Rita Pulaski, World Jump Rope Champion nineteen fifty-six,’ my grandmother said, pointing a pudgy finger at the window.
‘Really? Her with the two sticks?’ I said, peering at the hunched figure straining up the sidewalk, neck stretched forward tortoise-style
‘Oh yeah, her feet were a wonder, she’d mastered all the jumps. Criss Cross, Double Under, Awesome Annie, you name it. Her picture was in the papers – she even met the President.’
She glanced side to side, then leaned forward. ‘Then…tragedy!’
I felt myself being reeled in. ‘What happened?’
‘Well, she met Eisenhower on her way to the old Soviet Union. It was an exhibition match, hands of friendship and all that. But the Reds had their own jump rope prodigy – Ivana something or other. They broadcast it live on the radio. It was neck and neck, couldn’t separate them. Then, in the final jump-off – bam! Rita’s rope snaps, one half flies up, smacks her in the eye.’
‘Was she blinded?’
‘Nope,’ she said, ‘but she couldn’t go on. Ivana won by default. Everyone thought the Russkies sabotaged the rope, but they couldn’t prove it.’
I looked out, staring at Rita’s shuffling feet, searching for the tiniest glimmer of a skip, desperate for it to be true. But nothing. My grandmother watched me, face serious. Waiting. I paused.
‘So, did she ever skip again?’ I asked, and she grinned like she’d won a hand of canasta.
Andy Raffan lives in Scotland, is a member of Strathkelvin Writer’s Group, and is studying a Creative Writing degree. He was shortlisted for the Edinburgh Award for Flash Fiction in 2022. He is inspired by fleeting moments and what these might reveal.