Lights Out Lucy_Roller Derby 101

by Elicia Hyder

  We climbed the steps of the bleachers and sat midway to the top. I estimated a headcount. There were about twenty prospects, Olivia and myself included. In the middle of the room, a few skaters were circling an oval track.

  Olivia nudged my arm. “Do you have a pen?”

  I unzipped my gym bag. Arranged neatly inside were my pads, my skates, a fresh change of clothes, the two mouth guards, and my purse which I’d tucked into the corner. I pulled two pens from its front pocket and handed one to her.

  We’d both just finished with our forms when a sharp whistle blasted. Everyone in the bleachers stopped chatting and looked up.

  Shamrocker, now wearing skates, skated over from the cage carrying a clipboard. “Listen up, bitches!” she yelled with a singsong tone. “My name is Shamrocker, lucky number seven!”

  Several people applauded. A few girls cheered.

  “Welcome to Roller Derby 101,” she said. “From this moment on, you are our Fresh Meat! I’d like to introduce your other coaches from the All-Star team!” Riveter Styx and another woman I recognized from the bout skated up beside her. “Number 1111, Riveter Styx,” Shamrocker said, pointing to Styx. “And Number 69, Midnight Maven!”

  There was more clapping and cheering.

  Midnight Maven was a strikingly beautiful woman with taut dark skin stretched over defined muscles. She wore a short pink plaid schoolgirl’s skirt and a cropped black tank that showed off her chiseled stomach.

  Shamrocker continued. “There are several other team members here today and more will join us during the next few weeks to help out and practice with you. I encourage you to get to know them and listen to their advice. We all started our careers in this room, just like you. And we’re all here to help you learn.”

  I looked around for Medusa but didn’t see her anywhere.

  Olivia leaned into me. “Careers? Do they get paid to play?”

  I shook my head.

  “In the next eight weeks, Styx, Maven, and I will teach you everything you need to pass your basic skills test and become a Music City Roller,” Shamrocker said.

  Riveter Styx stepped forward on her wheels. “You will work hard. You’ll sweat. You’ll be sore. You’ll be bruised. But you will learn, and you will have fun.”

  Shamrocker held up three fingers. “We practice three days a week, and you are required to attend seventy-five percent of the time. Obviously, life happens and things come up, but being tired, sore, or even injured are not acceptable excuses to cut practice.”

  “If you get hurt, which you probably will,” Maven said with an evil grin, “you come anyway and watch or volunteer.”

  “Your skills test will be held on Saturday, October twenty-second,” Shamrocker said. “By then you’ll need to pass all the basic derby skill requirements, meet the endurance standards, and pass the fifty-question written test. You’ll find a copy of the test as well as a copy of the grading sheet for your physical assessment in the packet you were given this morning, so you should be well prepared.”

  “We suggest you study!” Styx called out.

  “We also suggest that you train outside of practice on and off your skates,” Shamrocker said. “This sport is very physically demanding. You’ll want to do everything you can to increase your stamina.”

  “That includes cross-training,” Styx said. “Pilates, yoga, kettlebell—”

  “Kettle what?” I asked Olivia.

  She shrugged.

  “—they’re all great forms of cross-training,” Styx finished.

  Maven pointed toward the door. “If you’re not willing to commit to practice, to study, and to work really freaking hard, get out now.”

  My eyes widened. We all looked around, but no one moved.

  Shamrocker continued. “If you pass your tests—”

  “If you survive them,” Maven interrupted with a mocking laugh.

  “If you survive and pass your tests to become a Music City Roller, you’ll be promoted from Fresh Meat to our secondary team, the Rising Rollers,” Shamrocker said. “Your first bout will be the Monster’s Brawl, our annual Halloween party scrimmage.”

  Maven took a step forward on her wheels. “If you don’t make the cut or you don’t have the balls to make it to tryouts”—man, that chick didn’t mince words—“we do have a no-contact rec league that scrimmages the last Saturday of every month. They call themselves the Nashville Rec’ing Crew.”

  “If puns are mandatory in this sport, you’re going to be dubbed their queen in no time,” I whispered to Olivia.

  She smiled but otherwise ignored me.

  “There are also plenty of volunteer opportunities outside of playing,” Styx said. “We’re always looking for new referees, nonskating officials, help with sales and merchandise, and more.”

  “Does anyone have questions?” Shamrocker asked.

  A girl in the front row raised her hand. “How do you make the All-Star team?”

  Oh boy. I didn’t even realize there was more than one team.

  “The All-Star team is chosen by the athletic board prior to the start of the new season,” Shamrocker said.

  Olivia raised her hand. “What’s the difference between the teams?”

  God bless her.

  “Good question,” Styx said. “The All-Star team is our internationally ranked, chartered team within the worldwide roller derby association. The Rising Rollers is our B-team. It’s a travel team like the All-Stars, but it is not eligible for international ranking. We consider the Rising Rollers our training team to prepare you to compete internationally.”

  Jolly Green Giant put her hand in the air. “Do we have to pay to play?”

  Shamrocker hugged her clipboard. “Official team members pay forty dollars a month in dues. That covers things like practice space and admin costs. No one makes money on the team.”

  “Any more questions?” Maven asked.

  No one responded.

  Styx cupped her hands around her mouth and screamed, “Then who’s ready to work?”

  Thunderous replies ricocheted off the walls, piercing my eardrums. One thing was certain: this sport wasn’t lacking in enthusiasm.

  “If you need gear, check the cage,” Maven said. “You’ve got twenty minutes to get your asses on the track and get warmed up!”

  I stood and picked up my heavy bag. “Let’s do this.”

  With a reluctant sigh, Olivia pointed toward the cage and started down the steps. “I’m going to get some skates. I’ll be back.”

  “Don’t sound so thrilled about it,” I said.

  “I’m doing this for you!” she called back over her shoulder.

  I had my new black-and-teal skates laced up and tied before I remembered I needed to put my knee pads on first. I pulled the skates off and tugged on the pads, then laced up the skates again. By that time, Olivia had lugged over her borrowed gear. She held up a well-worn skate. “If I catch foot herpes, I’m giving you the medical bills.”

  “Those look too big for you,” I said as she sat down.

  “They are, but they’re the closest to my size I could find.”

  I slipped on my elbow pads and tightened the Velcro straps around my arms. Then I strapped the metal wrist guards securely across my palms between my thumbs and fingers. They were stiff, which made opening the mouth guard package almost impossible.

  “Give me that,” Olivia said, snatching it out of my hand.

  She ripped it open and let the clear mouth guard drop into my palm. I stuck it in my mouth and squished it around against my gums. It was uncomfortable, to say the least, fitting against my teeth like a floppy rubber sleeve. I moved my jaw and let the guard clap around in my mouth. “Shomshings naht wite,” I said, looking at my friend.

  She grabbed the packaging she’d tossed beside her on the floor. “Lucy, this says you’re supposed to boil it in water for one minute, then press it against your teeth to mold it.”

  I hooked the mouth guard on my thumb and pulled it out of my mouth. A g
ooey string of saliva broke from it and dribbled down my chin. “I didn’t do that.”

  “Obviously.”

  I wiped my chin on my arm. “I guess we’ll have to make do with what we have.”

  She finished tying her skate. “You owe me, big time.”

  I tucked the mouth guard in the pocket of my gym shorts and strapped on my helmet while Olivia finished putting on her gear. She held one of the borrowed elbow pads to her nose. “This smells like a jock strap.”

  “Eww,” I said, pushing myself up from the ground onto my teal toe stops.

  “I like your skates.” Olivia pointed at my feet with the elbow pad before slipping it over her hand and forearm. “Were they expensive?”

  “About a hundred dollars.”

  She laughed. “God, I hope you can skate.” She nodded toward the track. “Go on then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

  Taking a deep breath, I carefully turned around, teetering on my toe stops like a graceless ballerina. Just like I’d practiced the night before, I pushed off with my right toes and glided forward on my left wheels. I rolled slowly toward the track without even a wobble.

  As I put in my mouth guard, I looked both ways before crossing the black line onto the track. Riveter Styx sailed past me, wafting my face with the sweaty, stale air of the arena. She was close enough for me to see the tattoo wasn’t a skull after all. It was a sketch of black roses, the negative space creating the skull face.

  I stared long enough for her to lap me. This time, her eyes met mine, quizzically studying me as she passed.

  “I’m not a creeper,” I wanted to say. “I know your dad. Please be my friend.”

  But I kept my mouth shut and skated onto the track.

  Like Steve at the skate shop told me, I pushed my legs back and to the sides to move forward. Slowly at first, then building up speed. I bent my knees and pushed my way around the first turn. When I rounded the corner, I could see Olivia standing on her skates, smiling at me.

  She clapped her wrist guards together, creating a muffled knocking sound.

  I waved her forward.

  She popped the teal mouth guard into her mouth and pushed off on her skates. Holy hell, she skated like the pros. I rolled off the track to stop and watch, mouth agape and mouth guard flopping against my lower teeth. Olivia eased into the curve, leaning heavily on her left leg before stepping completely over it with her right to gain speed coming out of the turn toward me.

  I put my hands on my hips. “Jou’f gosch chew be kitting me!” I shouted through my obstructed teeth.

  She laughed, going around the turn in front of me, then skating backward to talk to me. “Wha’cha jewing ober der? Chum on!”

  Groaning loudly, I pushed off my toe stops as hard as I could without falling to catch up with her. She skated faster, still backward, and I finally jerked my mouth guard out so I could talk properly. “What the hell, Olivia!”

  She bent at the waist, gripping her knees as she laughed. “Oh man. The look on your face right now! That was worth getting out of bed to see!”

  “Why didn’t you tell me you could skate?” I demanded.

  She shrugged. “You didn’t ask.”

  I crossed my arms and glared. “It’s because you’re a lesbian, isn’t it?”

  She cackled again. “Just because I’m a lesbian, I must be good at sports, right?”

  “So, what then? Have you played roller derby before?”

  “No.” She slowed so I could catch up. “But I was the Skate-Off Champion three years in a row at the Waynesboro Skate Center back home. I beat all the boys.”

  I noticed Styx had stopped just off the track and was watching Olivia skate.

  “I hate you a little right now,” I said, holding up my index finger and thumb an inch apart.

  Olivia was still laughing. “I know. Just think of it this way, I can tutor you outside of practice.”

  “You’d better! This was my idea!”

  The whistle blew again. “Huddle up, bitches!” Shamrocker shouted, waving her arms.

  Olivia and I stayed where we were.

  Midnight Maven skated to the center of the track. “Today, we’re going to cover the very basics of skating. Stance, crossovers, and how to stop.”

  Maven continued. “The first lesson of Derby 101 is your stance, because a solid stance is crucial whether you’re picking up speed or bracing for a big hit. Your feet are apart. Knees are bent. Your ass is down and your tits are up.” She demonstrated. “You guys try it. Skate a few laps.”

  I pushed forward on my wheels. Ass out. Tits up.

  “You need to settle into your hips more,” Olivia said, karate-chopping my hip bones. “You’re too rigid, and it’s throwing off your balance. Push your tailbone down, and move your feet a little farther apart.”

  I did as she said. While it felt awkward, like I was about to give birth on the track, I did feel more steady. “Like this?”

  “Put your elbows down. You look like you’re about to drop a turd.”

  “Olivia, that’s gross!”

  “It’s also true. Put your elbows down.” She grabbed my arm and pushed it down by my side. “When we get into the turn, lean on your inside leg and push toward the outside.”

  I leaned.

  I wobbled.

  I fell.

  The cushioned plastic covering my knees smacked loudly against the track.

  She spun to a stop next to me and offered her hand to help me up. When I was on my skates again, she smiled. “It takes practice, but you’re better than I thought you’d be.”

  I scowled at her. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  She laughed.

  Shamrocker blew the whistle. “Some of you are already doing this, but in the corners, you should be crossing your skates over to increase your speed. Styx will demonstrate, so make some room.”

  We all vacated to the sidelines.

  Styx skated onto the track and Shamrocker kept talking. “Crossovers happen when you pick up your right skate and put it across your left. Watch how Styx’s left foot actually crosses back behind and under the right one and pushes toward the outside of the track. This is how she’s picking up most of her speed.”

  Watching her skates rise and fall, the right continually crisscrossing over the left, visions of roller girls toppled in my head. Me tripping over my own skates, taking out the rest of my teammates like bowling pins. My mouth dried up like the Sahara. My pulse thumped in my ears. Or maybe it was the sound of Styx’s dizzying wheels striking the concrete floor. I couldn’t tell because I was trying not to panic.

  Olivia nudged me with her elbow and laughed. “Lucy? You OK?”

  I swallowed and nearly choked on my fear.

  She playfully shoved me sideways, but I stumbled into the girl standing beside me. We crashed to the ground in a pile of padded limbs and tangled skates.

  Every head in the arena whipped toward us. Toward me.

  Styx skidded to a stop.

  “I’m glad to see someone is setting the tone for how this is going to go,” Shamrocker teased.

  Maven was grinning as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Should we call an ambulance to be on standby?”

  I wanted to crawl under the bleachers. Or run outside. Or die.

  “I’m really sorry,” I said to my victim.

  “It’s all right.” She pulled her legs out from under my ass.

  Olivia hooked her arm under my armpit and pulled me up onto my skates. “Geez, Lucy.”

  “I can’t do this,” I whispered.

  She shook my arm. “Yes, you can. Breathe, before you pass out.”

  I sucked in a deep breath and held it for a second before blowing it out slowly.

  “For those of you who are a little shaky, we’re going to learn crossovers in steps,” Shamrocker said. “Start by skating in long strides on one foot at a time. Begin on your left skate and really bend and lift your right knee.”

  Styx pushed off onto her left
skate with her right leg lifted in the air. When she reached the turn, she switched skates.

  “You guys try it!” Shamrocker called.

  All the girls around me started moving, but I was glued to my spot. Olivia grasped the front of my T-shirt and pulled me forward.

  I stumbled but didn’t fall.

  “Come on. Do it with me.” Olivia was rolling slowly, and she picked up her right skate so she was gliding on her left.

  I tried to pick up my right skate, but I wobbled and shook my head.

  “You’re psyching yourself out,” she said. “Stop overthinking it.”

  She was right. Mind over matter, Lucy. Don’t make this into more than it is. Holding my breath, I pushed off on my left foot. I rolled half the length of the track on my left set of wheels.

  “See?” Olivia called, catching up with me. “I knew you could do it. Now switch.”

  “High knees, girls! And really push off with the insides of your wheels!” Shamrocker shouted.

  After a few shockingly successful laps around the track, Styx skated to the center and spoke directly to me and Olivia. “Good job. Now roll on your left skate down the straightaway, and when you reach the corner, cross your right leg over, and push into the curve with your left.”

  Fear tingled across the back of my neck as I rolled on my left skate. The corner was approaching. I lifted my right skate and slowly crossed it over the left. When I put it down, my back wheels nicked my left toe stop. My body pitched forward, my left knee buckling and coming down hard on the concrete. My elbows made it up under my chest before I face-planted, and thankfully, I slid off the track on my pads before anyone tripped over me.

  Someone behind me was clapping. It was probably Olivia.

  One of the veteran skaters appeared next to me like she’d teleported there. She was tall and thin with a blonde bob framing her angular face. “Hey, what’s your name?”

  “Lucy.”

  “Hi, Lucy. I’m Kraken.”

  I thought of my stupid brother and his penis. My face flooded with heat.

  Kraken offered me a hand up. “Go back to balancing on one skate at a time. Balance on your left skate first,” she said.

  Not looking at her face, I lifted my right skate and rolled on my left. She stayed right beside me.