The Swing
a weekend with my childhood friend in my favorite childhood summer spot... it just doesn't get any better.
when I had called Mark two days earlier, for a bit of legal advice on a crumbling business deal, he had been straight with me and told me to give up on the dying deal and get out of Dodge for a while. I shouldn't have been surprised at how he picked up on my stress... he had always been able to read me. and apperently this ability of his now extended to long distance phone calls.
at some point during the long ride to the the camp, we fell right into our old childhood habits. we had always been competitive in everything we did... right down to who would win the alphabet game during long rides. "Q... how the heck am I supposed to find a Q?" I had to resort to trying read names on mailboxes. it had become much more rural since we began the game. Mark was only on N and I was pretty sure I had him beat but how cool would it be to finish the alphabet and leave him in my dust?! "Q! Q! I don't believe it!" I screamed, pointed excitedly at the large letter Q on the door plaque of one of the few houses left before camp and found myself jumping in my seat for joy. "HA! better open those eyes Mr. hot-shot lawyer man!" he reached out with one hand and keeping his eyes on the road began blindly grabbing at my sides. I screamed and pressed myself against the car door. "oohh no you don't!" I swatted at his hands and stayed just out of reach.
camp looked exactly as it had 15 years ago. I looked around while Mark backed the car up to the camp door.
right straight ahead of me was my favorite thing about this camp... the rope swing. it was tied to the branch of a huge old oak tree with probably 50 feet of hanging rope... ending right in the center of a dangling square of wood. that swing and I had spent hours and hours together. I had always felt like I could fly when I was whipping through the air as fast and as far as it would take me. normally I am so afraid of heights that a step ladder makes me woozy... but for some reason the tummy flutters that came with going high on that swing made me feel free. ...just what I needed.
"last one to the swing has to unload the car!!!" I yelled, halfway out the door and running the second my feet hit the ground. slipping on the sandy dirt, scurrying to my feet and seeing him already half way to swing... I realized my mistake. Mark's abitlity to run like the wind had paid his way through college. I threw myself forward and ran with everything I had. by the time I caught up with him he was on the swing and had pulled himself back far enough to be holding onto a thin branch of another tree. I knew the second he let go of that branch he would be off and swinging. without even thinking I jumped onto the the swing (and his lap). facing him. holding onto the rope for dear life and trying to steal as much seat as I could... I grinned. "I still kicked your butt in the alphabet game!" I stuck out my tongue. "didn't I?"
"oohhh, you are SUCH a brat!" Mark grinned, let go of the branch he had been holding and sent us sailing. "I think you need a little lesson on who the winner is around here." "no I don't! it's MEeeee.....!" I wrapped my arms around the rope and held on tight. feeling the wind whip through my hair and my tummy fluttering with each swoop... I was in heaven. Mark reached around the rope and held onto me while I pulled the rope and leaned back to make us go higher.
reaching the limit of how high even this swing could take me... I stopped pumping and let us just glide. "now... " Mark siad. "who did you say was the best?" I froze. his fingertips were just touching my underarms. "well... ?" he asked. "me! of course." I laughed. he groaned and dug in. I grabbed the rope hard and freaked! screaming and laughing, I did my best to keep my seat. I was not about to let him get the best of me by falling in the dirt! "sto-o-opppp! no fairrr... !" everything in me wanted to tickle right back! but if I let go of that rope with even one hand I would be eating dirt. "who's the best? hhhmmm?" his fingers had begun digging their way down my side. I reached quickly to push his hand away and found myself procariously dangling to one side. on a downward swoop I leaned forward just enough to grab the rope with both hands again. I clutched the rope and tried to still my heart. ok, so letting go is a bad idea... how am I going to get out of this?
"c'mon now, slowpoke. all you have to do is say 'Mark is the best'. now is that so bad?" every word was punctuated by a dig into my ribs. it looked like I had three choices. fall in the dirt (NOT an option!), let him win this too by 'crying uncle' and saying he was the best (no way!) or take the tickling 'til he tired of it (yikes!). "Aaaaggghhh! you are SUCH a CHEATER!" my feet were kicking like crazy but couldn't reach him or the ground. my wiggling seemed to be keeping the swing going. I kept trying to focus on keeping myself on the swing... but my God how it tickled! Mark kept switching from one hand to the other. tickling up one side of me and down the other. "such a stubborn, ticklish, little slowpoke!" he wiggled his fingers down the underside of my arm. "this spot... " he closed in on my underarms once again. "seems to be pretty ticklish... " he dug in and continued talking. "are you ticklish here slowpoke? are you? yes, I think you are... riggghttt HERE!"
I was finding it impossible to answer. every word I tried to form was quickly turned into a breathless, screaming, panic filled laugh. "M-maaaahhhh-oooohhhhhahaha.... no, no, no, no! p-p-pllllleeeaasse... " I could hear his feet dragging on the ground and the swing began to slow. he gave another push with his feet just as it was coming to a stop. "you want me to stop the swing? well then... let's hear it... " I pulled in a few jagged, hitching breaths. "you... (gasp) you... you are the best! aaggghhh! there! I said it! are you happy?" I glared at him. pouting and angry, I stumbled off the swing and half walked half crawled on rubbery legs over to a patch of grass. "you are so MEAN!" I screamed.
lying on my patch of grass, catching my breath and looking at treetops and sky... I could hear him unloading our supplies from the car. I felt happier than I had in a long time. I was free.