Substitution

She’s never seen a sawhorse used for anything other than a balance beam. Summer of ’96 and the U.S. women’s gymnastics team takes home the gold. She watches every second, tumbling around the TV while her mother stirs Rice-A-Roni on the stovetop. She takes up her own version of the sport. In the garage, she cartwheels off the sawhorse her father left behind when he moved out. She headstands against the walls, uses tree limbs for uneven bars. Other girls learn somersaults at the gymnastics center, their fathers reading newspapers in the hallway, waiting to pick them up. These girls have hand guards and leotards and special chalk. The fatherless girl stays home, stretching around her mother’s ankles. She has learned how to dig out a splinter with a hot needle. She has learned how to tighten the screws when the wood shakes under her.