The Perfect Ten

The Judge's Bell rings, my one dream is hanging on a silvery thread – the next sixty seconds will determine my life. 1

“From Canada, Raven Pryde the horse is Midnight Dream, an eighteen hand Bavarian warmblood and the longer is Alder Pryde.” I take a deep breath, and raise my hand to queue the music. I close my eyes and listen to the first beats. Midnight’s shiny black ear flickers in my direction and his large brown eyes sparkle with the anticipation that I know he sees in my blue. My footsteps match his stride in time with the beat of the energetic drama playing through the speakers. In a heartbeat I’m there beside him, reaching up I place my hands flat on his back and let his canter stride supplement my jump, lifting me up to his croup. I reach one hand to the catch the fluorescent light drifting down from the ceiling, while the other supports my body weight. The hand flutters for a brief moment before I pull it close to my chest, telling the audience and the judges how much emotion is filling this tiny heart of mine. I feel so fragile and yet so powerful as I leap too my feet. Midnight’s stride is so steady that i feel as though my feet are melting into his warmth. Some would say it’s impossible, but when I turn the double pirouette on this gigantic black horse I feel as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. Now I feel his lead hoof touch the ground:2

“now!” My mind shouts my feet leave his back as I sour into the air, it’s taken me ten years to learn this move, I pull the split as high as I can arching back, for a split second resting the back of my head against my knee in the air. 3

Time stands still. The arena lights mingle with the sunlight from outside, glittering of the rhinestones sewn to my costume, shining on the gelding’s coat, blinding me. 4

And all too soon it’s over my front foot touches down on the horse’s back the other suspended in the air behind me stretched to the sky. I feel like a picture of a Russian ballerina, Midnight, my perfect pas de deux partner. 5

That foot stretches back and down, I pivot around it placing the other foot beside it on Midnight Dream’s croup. A pause in my music. I appear to drop suddenly to my knees, when in reality it is an achingly controlled movement, I kneel for only an instant and then twist over my shoulder and pop into a sideways handstand. Timing is imperative as I lift one hand from his back and place it on his neck. I lift my head as one foot arches over my back to touch my forehead. My core aches with the strain but I slowly sit down astride on his shoulders for a breath throwing myself backwards over the grips.6

For an instant I’m lost in the air but just as my feet touch the ground my hands are wrapped around the leather of the inside grip and I’m in the air again only to come to a precarious balance on my shoulder, one hand still clinging to the grip the other free. Slowly I lower myself from my shoulder to my back letting one leg rest against my shoulder and the other against the horse’s tail. Never at this point do I let my body stand still. I roll over until I am sitting in a flawless split, reaching to the sky. I twist into a sideways facing split and reach under myself to cling to Midnight’s side and pull my legs above my head cartwheeling to a seat on the handle where I can slide my foot into the stirrup. 7

I grasp my heel and pulled it up beside me, these days I no longer feel the discomfort of this stretch- certainly not like I did years ago when I was barely flexible enough to do the splits and barely strong enough to sit on the horse. 8

“Look at me,” this move tells the judges. “Look how flexible I am.” It says. I let go the hand that has been supporting my weight and stand solely in the stirrup balancing against my partner’s whither. That hand wraps around my foot and pull it passed my eyes. 9

“Fooled, you I’m even more flexible than that.” 10

I hook that foot over the one wrapped in the stirrup and lean out over Midnight’s shoulder reaching out to the wildly applauding crowd on the outside of the circle, this move is a hand-me-down but I love it for the grace and strength it presents. I hold it one stride longer than needed.11

“I showed you that I was flexible, now look how strong I am.” My hands took my weight again as I extricated my feet from their hold and pulled myself up into a steep angle. Not quite a handstand, no this is much harder. A little pop from my shoulders pulles my feet up over my head, a litte twist through my hips and again I stand on Midnight Dream’s back.12

Ready again, to fly. And fly I do. I feel the timing of the black gelding’s stride and lift off, soaring, spinning falling almost in slow motion to the earth. I hear the crow screaming my name the bell ring and the final beat of my music. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the judge smile. 13

“You’ve really done it this time Canadian.” 14

My feet rest on the ground. I know in my heart these last sixty second have been perfect. 15

As we leave the ring Midnight rubs his face against my back and my coach wraps his arm around my waist usering me to the waiting area. 16

“that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen you do.” He wisperes in my ear as the announcer prattles on about all of the things I’ve done up until this moment as we all wait. 17

“And now, the moment we’ve been waiting for, the scores!” the announcer’s voice booms over the PA. “From the Judge at ‘A’; Ten point Zero, from the Judge at B Ten Point Zero and for the horse Ten Point Zero giving Raven; for the first time in the history of Equestrian Vaulting, A PERFECT TEN!” 18

The crowd is silent. A perfect ten. 19

I squeal with delight and throw my arms around Midnight's Neck.20

"Thank you," I whisper.