Our first flop drill for the high jump went easily. At Fei's whistle for the break, all the girls on

the junior team tumbled onto the great mattress, piling on one another and wiping our sweat on each other's skin. Fei carried the foam cooler from the shade into the midday sun to pass each of us a red bean popsicle. As I wolfed mine down, a blob of sherbet fell on my shorts and stained the white print of "Nanjin Juvenile Jumpers Summer Camp." Then I saw Stumpy's shaven head near the long jump pit, and leaped off the mattress.

"Stumpy!" I shouted. It was our turn to drill the long jump, but the sand in the pit was stamped solid with the footprints of the boys. Stumpy and I were in charge of the sand pits this week. If he was going to use the pit, why couldn't he shovel the sand for once? Luckily, he was jogging back to fetch his spiked shoes by the pit.

"Don't yell, I'm right here." He stooped to grab his shoes, and I peered down at his greenish skull.

"Have you laid a finger on the shovel this whole week? I'm getting calluses from picking up after you." I thrust the shovel into the sand.

"Don't blame me. I saw you do pushups on the parallel bars." He moved his hand up and down the wood handle to make a light noise. "Hear it? My calluses are harder than yours."
"You've probably always had them," I said. Stumpy had grown up on a farm; he might've been toiling in the rice field with his parents had he not joined the summer camp. Now he hated chores as much as any boy in his obnoxious bunch. "You might've been born with them." I regretted this as soon as I heard myself say it.

"I was born as good as you, Pigtail." Stumpy rubbed his bald head as if it were some kind of trophy. "I can high jump 1.6 meters, 10 centimeters more than my height."

"That's because you're short!" I burst into nervous laughter.

"Wrong again. I mastered a secret weapon." He did a backbend, and his shirt slid down his chest to expose his flat nipples. "What's your record, Pigtail?"

"Well, I can jump over 1.52 meters on a good day," I lied. My record was 1.45.

"What do you say we have a match after the training? You shoot for 1.52 and I do 1.6. The winner can keep their hands off the shovel forever."

Fei was leading our team to the pit so I had to decide. There would be no real loss for me, since I never could coax Stumpy into picking up the shovel. "Deal, after the training, just you and me." I wanted to beat Stumpy, but if I didn't, I'd hate to let Fei see me lose. "No coaches," I added.

"See you, Pigtail." He jogged away barefooted, carrying his shoes.

"Five thirty, Gourd Head." I pulled out the shovel to dig the sand.

* * *

"The key in the triple jump," Fei said, "is to maintain high speed during all three takeoffs, the hop, the step and the jump, while applying a large driving force with the arms. During the step, keep a tall, upright posture and ride out the flight phase." She made a sharp dash, scratching the dirt with the spikes of her shoes. "Don't hurry the foot back to the ground, but wait for the ground to come to meet your foot. Like this."

She strode, with each step longer and faster than the last, before she took off from the board with a powerful kick and a single-arm thrust into the hop, the step, then a double-arm lift that propelled her into a long flight over the pit, landing her in the sand with her ponytail splashed on her back. I never had a doubt that Fei, with her grace alone, had led me to brave the jumping events.

The first time I had seen Fei, five months before, I had been dazzled by the white stripes on her sky-blue uniform and the matching headband that set off the coral of her cheeks. I had started running toward her even before she picked up the bright whistle that hung down from her collar.

"Are you a high jumper?" she had asked me.

"No," I stammered. "Not yet."

"Don't you want to give it a try?" Her face bloomed into a perfect smile. "You may be good material."

By the age of fourteen, I had PE teachers tempting me to try long-distance running, swimming, gymnastics, basketball and volleyball. But that was the first time anyone saw me as a jumper. A coward I wasn't, but I hated to risk tangling up my legs in a bamboo bar and crashing down on my back in the wood shavings.

Fei led us to the high jump pit where two giant mattresses lay, like the ones that we'd seen used in the national events on TV. She did a backbend to grab her own ankles, then lunged forward to press her face to her shins. She jogged to the pit and lifted her body like it had just enough weight to be perfect, and flew over the crossbar. Scattered clapping rose. Her whistle caught the light when she bounced up from the mattress. She was striking, like no other coach in the school. Five months later I followed Fei to the summer camp, hoping that her glory might rub off on me.

* * *

Stumpy hopped over the crossbar like a puppy being tossed out of a window. "What's that?" I rubbed my eyes. "It's the ugliest thing I ever saw!"

"It's the great straddle." He squatted in the pit to lower the bar for me. "How low do your scissors drop, Pigtail?"

I was still panting from my last jump, which I had barely made at 1.42 meters. I kicked my wobbly legs, and felt like calling it a day. But I didn't want Stumpy to feel superior. "I might top 1.52 with the flop," I insisted, "if I had the mattresses."

"Isn't this good enough for you?" He hopped on the wood shavings with hands locked behind his back. "This is practically a cushion, man!"

I paced around the pole asking, "Have you heard of 'The Princess and the Pea,' bumpkin?"

He fell on his butt with his legs spread apart. "What is that?"
"Once upon a time, there was a very beautiful and delicate princess, who slept on top of seven thick quilts with a little pea at the bottom. The next day she was bruised all black and blue by that pea, which proved she was a real princess."

He glared at me as if a toad had fallen out of my mouth. "But you're not a princess!" he scolded. "You're a high jumper! A princess doesn't wear a pigtail!"

Convinced that the offense was his, not mine, I turned to walk toward my dorm.

"I can teach you the straddle," he called after me. "Then you can be my partner at the mixed jumping event."

But it was two weeks away. Pin, my roommate, had talked about teaming with Stumpy--"the Champ" as she called him. I wondered why she had wanted to win so badly.

"If you let me teach you the straddle, you'll win," he shouted louder.

I stopped. Was he being generous! I turned around with my hands on my hips.

"It's easy. Run very fast and, just before takeoff, get as slow as possible. Give your lead leg a full swing to clear the crossbar. Think of it as a big, quick hop. Let me show you." He ran up and rolled over the bar like a cat, dropping onto the wood shavings. "It's your turn." He knelt in the pit on both knees.

I eyed the crossbar, at a height I had not braved before, and took a deep breath. As I jogged toward the pit, I began to worry about what to do with my legs. I tried to lift my left leg as I did in the scissors but slipped on the ground, stumbling into the pit with a frightened scream. I heard him say, "Focus on your legs, not the crossbar! You almost made it!"

* * *

"The straddle isn't for everyone," Fei said, taking the towel off my bandaged knee. "You need a great deal of leg strength. I can see why it's Stumpy's cup of tea, but you? You have the light build for the flop." She rubbed her warm hands down my thigh.

I got goose bumps watching her long fingers run down my shin, ankle, and foot, and would've fallen into her arms if she hadn't tickled my sole.

"How does that feel?" she asked.
"Even better than the popsicle." My injury might be a blessing in disguise after all.

She brushed back a strand of hair that fell over my eyes. I wanted to both wince and bend forward to prolong her touch. "Do you think you'll feel lonely on the bench by yourself?" she asked.

I heard crickets chirping and frogs croaking outside--the sound of contentment in the evening air. Pin had washed my bowls and spoon before she left for the movie. My throat felt tight as I reflected on my wretched condition.

"Let me see if I can fix that for you." Fei lifted my leg to wrap the towel gently around my knee. "Would you like to meet my daughter tomorrow?"

My leg jerked as if stung by a bee. "Your . . ." I cleared my throat.

"She's almost two years old, and was bored in the nursery. I was afraid I couldn't keep track of her as I coached. But with the extra help of your good eyes, you'll set my mind at ease." She crossed her arms.

"Sure," I muttered, unable to pull my eyes away from her tan arm folded on her lemon-dotted sleeveless dress. She looked tidy and crisp, not much older than I was. How could I have guessed that Fei had been made pregnant by a man?

* * *

The next day, I limped to the drill ground and found a little girl in white overalls sitting on the parallel bars. Pin nudged me and asked, "Isn't her daughter pretty?"

She was the tiniest thing I had seen in a while, with a spotless face, big eyes and small mouth. Her long eyelashes seemed only fit to be on a Barbie doll, but she was all real, fleshy, and shy. "Mommy," she whined and crinkled her nose as if she'd cry.

"It's okay, baby." Fei rocked her back and forth while pointing at us, "See the big sisters? You're going to play and have fun."

Pin whispered to me, "Fei must've cut off her daughter's eyelashes to make them grow longer."

"What if they hadn't grown back?" I asked, horrified.

"Kids' lashes always grow back longer," Pin claimed. "You have to do it when the baby is asleep, though."

Fei blew her whistle and nudged her daughter toward me. I took hold of her little shoulder. Thumb in her mouth, she watched Fei lead the team to the jumping pit in the grass field.

"Mommy." She pointed at Fei.

"Isn't she pretty? And she made you such a cutie." I touched her eyelashes with the side of my finger. "Do you know she cut off your lashes when you were asleep? My mom never did that when I was little. There's no catching up for that, you know?"

She blinked and grabbed my finger. This soft bundle of Fei's flesh-what an enviable miracle she was. "Do you know she made you?" I whispered into her ear.

Fei was blowing her whistle for the team to do the single-leg bounds. Her wavy ponytail dipped to the blue elastic band of her shorts every time she nodded. She was too lovely to be a mother in my eyes. I could've glanced at my mom or our neighbor Mrs. Wang and guessed they were mothers. Their bobbed hair was permed into fat curls, their faces glowed with vanishing cream, and they wore long shirts covering their waists and hips; even so, the bulges of their stomachs startled me the few times I bumped into them. Fei was trim and flat-chested, but a mother after all; she had gotten naked with her husband to become pregnant with this girl. I wondered if she had felt awkward to undress in front of him for the first time, or she simply couldn't wait to do it.

The girl pointed again. "Mommy's playing."

I stroked her soft arm. "Where is your daddy, little sister?"
"Daddy takes train."

"What do you mean?"

"Daddy takes train." She blew bubbles with her drool. I hugged her tightly and kissed the side of her neck; she smelt of milk. Was it Fei's, too? Fei peered at us with a smile, and I blushed to the roots of my hair.

* * *

I had to take my big brother Wei to lunch the next day, after he brought me a bag of litchis from home. He was reluctant to sit on the girls' side of the canteen. I told him it was the plump fruits in the string bag that attracted the other boys' gazes. When Pin lay down her chopsticks, I pressed four litchis into her palm.

"Guess who I saw yesterday on the street," Pin said. "A fellow riding a bicycle, carrying Fei on the backseat and her girl on the front. He's a knockout, too, a nice match for her."

"Does the baby look like him?" I asked.

"She has his mouth and eyes, I guess." She spat the litchi pit into her enamel bowl and it made a dull echo. "Her eyelashes may be extra long, you know?" I nodded, smiling.

My brother stabbed a piece of pork with his chopsticks. "Your canteen isn't bad," he said.

I lowered my face when I glimpsed Stumpy walking toward us. "I know."

"Hello, are you Lian's brother?" Stumpy stuck out his hand to shake Wei's. "Your sister is a good jumper."

"Yeah?" Wei's face lit up. "Are you the little guy who did the straddle?"

"They call me Stumpy." He lifted his leg. "Look at my muscles. I used to jump over the hay. Landing in wood shavings is like a cushion to me." Stumpy didn't look at me. "Are you a jumper, too?" he asked Wei.

"No, but I like to swim." Wei snapped off a handful of litchis to give Stumpy. "Maybe I'll become a diver."

I sneered: who knew what he would do in a pool? Wei and I had gone swimming together the summer before. One day, he had talked me into letting him touch my thing. When I felt his hard fingernail pushing in, I got mad and swam away. I hadn't told my parents about it; what was the point in getting him beaten for a thing past? But it never passed with me. I still remembered the feel of his hard nail in my thing, and was shocked what a strange thing a boy wanted to do to a girl.

Pin scooped the broken shells into her bowl and dusted her hands. "Do you know Fei and her husband are a long-distance couple?"

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"They live apart until school breaks. Her husband teaches in a high school in Shanghai that has a pilot program for teenage male high jumpers . . ."

I couldn't help overhearing Stumpy boast about his straddle skill to Wei. "It's the only thing I've learned here, man. Coach said I was built for the straddle, see what I mean?" He showed off his leg again. "So I was excited to show your sister." He blushed briefly. "What I didn't know then was how to teach a novice . . ."

How dare he call me a novice to my brother and behind my back! We hadn't talked since my fall, and he couldn't make amends to me with this. I threw the spoon in my enamel bowl to make a loud noise.

Stumpy went on as if he hadn't heard me, "She worries about the crossbar more than her lead leg. That's not right. The number one rule in the high jump is always focusing on your run-up and takeoff, never the crossbar, or you're sure to lose count of your own steps, you know what I mean?"

"I see why you joined the summer camp," Wei told me with a smile. "For peer advice like this, right?"

I surprised myself by replying, "Advice my ass," and pushed away from the table to take off. Pin didn't follow me. Halfway across the room, I dashed back to fetch my litchis. I heard Wei tell Stumpy, "Don't mind my sister . .. ."

* * *

"As you move from run to takeoff," Fei said, lifting her arms and right leg, "you must convert horizontal speed into a large vertical impulse. Loading the takeoff is the key, because once you leave the ground, very little can be done in the air . . ."

Fei's little girl raised her head to fall back into my arms. She was already imitating Fei's moves with striking accuracy, and she was fearless, even with me. I had been feeling down ever since Stumpy offered his advice--to Wei, of all people! Luckily, Pin was on the bench with me because it was the heaviest day of her period.

"Your brother is cute," Pin said.

I was shocked. "He is not! He's the slacker in my family."
"Slacker who?" Pin elbowed me. "He took a two-hour bus trip to bring you the litchis, and you walked out on him at lunch."

"It's not all my fault. Right, little girl?" I flung her chubby arms about, and she giggled. "Would you like me to braid your hair?" I held her face in my palms. "You'll be so pretty."

She gripped my knees and mumbled, "Pretty. Yes."

I parted her fine hair at the top of the crown into three equal parts, and was so absorbed in my job that I didn't notice Fei walking near.

"Were you two listening to my flop drill?" Fei rubbed her daughter's head to make the strands of hair slip through my fingers. "I'm expecting you to return and perform in the final events."

Pin nodded. I just stared at Fei. She didn't have to fuss over the drill with me. After all, I was only a student of hers who babysat her daughter.

"How's your knee?"

I kicked up my foot. "Kind of stiff."

She tapped my knee. "It's because you haven't been training." I wished she hadn't touched me so callously.

I watched her face for the clues that her husband was in town, that she was sleeping with him every night--a thing like that must show itself on a spotless face, but there was nothing obvious. I never knew love could be so invisible, and ordinary.

"Now," Fei said, "we have two kinds of popsicles. What would you girls like?"

"A red bean," Pin said.

"I want milk," I said, and blushed.

While Fei carried the foam cooler to the mattress to feed the other girls, I told Pin, "I'm going to retire after this. Stumpy was right; I'm not jumper material."

She licked her popsicle. "Are you sure about that?"

"I can't out-jump Stumpy. So what? It's only a crossbar." I picked up Fei's little girl to let her sit straddling my lap. "I bet your mom does the flop style way prettier than your dad." I lay the girl's head down my legs and she giggled nervously.

Pin stood up to take hold of the girl's body.

"Easy does it." I let the girl slide down my good leg. "Do you still want to team up with Stumpy?" I asked Pin.

"Sure." She winked at me. "If he'll have me."

"I can help you with that." I gulped down a mouthful of sherbet. "But I want him to be my partner at the bonfire party afterwards."
She tilted her head. "Does the party carry points for our records?"

"No," I replied. "So it's more fun." She stared at me, and I elbowed her. "Watch your popsicle, it's melting!"

* * *

At the bonfire party, I am one of the few girls wearing a sundress. Mine is an old rayon dress with yellow sunflowers on black cloth, which feels like it's pouring down my skin. Pin wears the souvenir shirt for a mixed-jump finalist, and sits on the bench with her back to us. I've said nothing to Stumpy about their losing the final, which, to me, was no loss at all. I kick the stone I sit on with the heels of my plastic sandals, dancing to my own cheery beat. Then Fei asks us to tell our partner what led us to join the summer camp.

"For the fun of the game." Stumpy squints at me, while I feel the warmth of fire on my thigh. "My brain never works better than when I stand in front of the crossbar, and know exactly how I'm going to clear it." He pushes down my knee to stop my leg from kicking. "Your turn."

I think of Fei, her flight over the bar, her long-lashed daughter who was not afraid of letting me catch her fall, her match of a husband whom she loves more than us, possibly--the three of them balancing on the same bicycle. It seems silly to tell Stumpy how Fei held me spellbound. I chuckle and tease him, "For the match with you."

He glares at me. "What're you talking about?"

"The old saying is right: out of blows friendship grows." I toss my head back and burst into a

loud laugh. "We didn't start off on the wrong foot, I guess."

It begins to rain, so we retreat to our dorms. A paper plane flies out of the opposite boys' building, wheeling in the air for a few minutes before it crashes to the ground. Several new planes drift out into the moist evening air. One veers into the neighboring window. Another is sticking to the wall and unwilling to leave. A few plunge into the gathering puddles while their makers yell, "Come back here!"

Only one plane crosses the road, making its way toward our windows. The boys' cheering and shouting might have moved the plane, had it not been made of paper. When it hits our wall and drops off, a deep sigh rises in unison from both dorms.

I run downstairs to pick up the plane and throw it back to the boys.