My 'niece' Laurie, the dancer
by MBP  MWFAN318@aol.com 
A lesson in modern young girls


I was at a gathering of my old friends. The five of us have known each other
for 20 years, ever since high school. There's Mark, who is a partner in an
accounting firm. Neil is an Assistant District Attorney and is rumored to be
next in line to run for District Attorney. Stanley, the old reprobate who had
dropped out of college and gotten into trouble with drugs, was now a
successful salesman. Bernard was a project manager for a large computer
consulting company. Finally, I run a company that distributes sporting goods
to retail stores. Stanley works for me.

The party was at Mark's enormous house. My friends' spouses and children were
also present. I was the only one who wasn't married. In fact, I was the only
one without kids. The evening had been fun - I loved my old friends - but the
"baby" part of the night had started. This is when all discussion turns to how
wonderful everyone's babies are, their sleeping habits, their eating habits,
and often ends with a communal baby bath hour. I lost interest in the
conversation early. Instead, I prowled around the house.

I stopped in Mark's den and skimmed through a couple of books that interested
me. I looked into many of the rooms to see what he and Denise had done with
the place. I was passing by Laurie's room when I stopped. The door was open. I
could see her doing some stretching, and warm-up moves for dancing. She was
wearing a two-tone leotard: navy blue on the bottom, and light blue on the
top. Laurie had left the party sometime earlier. She noticed me standing
there, ogling.

"Hi, Michael," Laurie said. I remembered when she used the honorary term,
Uncle Michael. She had grown out of that. I had known her all of her life.

"Hey, Laurie, what are you doing?" I asked. It was a stupid question. I knew
what she was doing. And she knew I knew.

"I'm studying the mating habits of bears," she answered sarcastically.

"Very funny," I replied, smiling anyway. "I mean, what sort of dance are you
studying?"

"Everything," Laurie said, while stretching. "Ballet, modern, tap, Jazz."

"Cool. Why don't you show me something?"

She answered by smoothly moving through a short routine, which appeared to be
of the modern dance variety. She moved gracefully, and I also thought, with
surprising power. Laurie completed the brief piece, and I clapped approvingly.

"You're very good," I said admiringly and I meant it. "You're graceful enough
to do this professionally one day."

"I'd love to be a dancer. It makes me feel good. And strong. I've become
really strong."

"What do you mean?"

Laurie answered, "I'll give you an example. There's this guy Vinny in my gym
class. He's in the eighth grade. He thinks he's so cool, and such a jock. I
challenged him to try to get out of my leg lock. Everyone was watching, so he
had to accept. I locked my legs around his chest. He couldn't get out. He
tried for at least five minutes, and then had to give up in front of the whole
class. I should have felt bad since everyone was laughing at him, including
the girls, but I didn't. It was great."

I stared at Laurie, probably with my mouth wide open in amazement. At 12, she
was the oldest of my friends' children. She was in the sixth grade. She was
slim, dark-haired and pretty, and probably of average height. It was difficult
to believe, even as a dancer, that Laurie was able to control a boy who was
two years older and probably considerably bigger. I shook my head at her
fable.

Laurie noted my disbelief. "Do you want to try it?" she asked.

"I'll pass," I said, somewhat condescendingly.

She got really angry. "I can't believe you don't believe me, Uncle Michael,"
Laurie said icily. "First, you call me a liar. And then you don't give me a
chance to show you I'm not lying."

I thought about it. Actually, Laurie was absolutely correct. I tried the
direct route.

"I'm sorry, Laurie," I said sincerely. "You're right. I didn't believe you and
I should have."

She answered huffily, "But you still don't really think it's true. The only
way to fix this is for you to try it out."

I wasn't happy about it. But I decided it would be best to appease Laurie.

"OK. We'll give it a shot."

"Great," she said, her mood immediately improving immeasurably. She got down
on the carpeted floor, and motioned for me to join her. I briefly wondered
what this would look like to a passerby, but I did it anyway. Some of my
reluctance had turned to curiosity.

We got into position as Laurie encircled my chest with her legs.

"You're bigger than Vinny," Laurie said as she had a little trouble getting
her legs to fit correctly. She managed to get them positioned and locked her
ankles. Through the skin- tight leotard, I could see the lean muscles of her
slim legs. But there was no way she would be able to hold me.

"Let me know when you're ready," I said, raring to go.

"Ready," she said presently, as I felt her legs tense. There was surprising
pressure on my chest.

I pulled at her ankles, expecting to easily pull them apart. It wasn't easy.
In fact, it wasn't happening at all. I tried with all of my arm strength, and
didn't make any progress. Laurie's ankles were locked tight.

"Not so easy, is it?" Laurie giggled as she watched me struggle.

The giggling got me crazy. I pulled at the ankles, but to no avail. I moved
down to her calves, and then to her thighs, which were rock hard. I got
nowhere fast, so I concentrated on the ankles. I got the idea to try to
dislodge the top leg. So instead of simply trying to separate her ankles, I
grabbed one foot and one lower leg and pulled. I managed to get some
separation between her legs. Laurie adjusted her position to give the top leg
more leverage. We dueled. I lost. Laurie was able to force her top leg down
while bringing up the bottom one. Once again I was hopelessly locked up.

It was getting ridiculous. I was 35 and in pretty good shape. I sold lots of
fitness equipment, and worked out with most of it. I was nearly 200 pounds. I
also had all of the leverage I could want. I had my legs to brace with; my
arms were completely free. Despite all of this, the skinny little preteen girl
was winning. I tried to bring my arms between her legs. All this allowed me to
do was relieve a little of the pressure on my chest. But I wasn't breaking her
hold.

"I got you, don't I?" Laurie cooed. She was lying comfortably on the carpet.
Any move I made she was able to counter. She was extremely flexible and could
put herself into any position. My struggles were lessening. I couldn't get
out, and I was getting a little tired.

Laurie suddenly released the hold. Before I could move, she repositioned her
legs around my neck and locked her ankles. She took hold of one of my arms
with both of hers and leaned backwards. The pressure on my neck was
incredible. I writhed in pain as Laurie applied the scissors.

"I beat a guy on the wrestling team with this move," she said as she let up on
the hold just a little. "He said it wasn't legal in wrestling, that I cheated.
Maybe it wasn't legal, but we both knew it was only an excuse because I beat
him. It was funny. He only lost one match the entire season wrestling with
bigger boys, but he couldn't beat a girl."

I was about to say that Laurie couldn't beat me in real wrestling, but I
thought better of it. I didn't want to find out. The funny thing was that I
could always beat her Dad at any sport. It was really strange to be able to
beat the father but not the young daughter. It was time to concede.

"I give," I said simply.

"It's your turn to say Uncle," she laughed. "I always did."

It was funny. "Uncle," I said. Laurie let me go and rose to her feet. I
followed more slowly, rubbing my sore neck. I looked at my "niece." She was
all flushed with victory.

Laurie said, mockingly, "I'm stronger than you," and took my hand with her
small one, gripping mine very tightly. She looked up, challenging me to deny
her words.

I was pretty sure she wasn't. Laurie barely came up to my upper chest and I
was more than twice her weight. But I could envision myself spending the night
at her mercy as she applied hold after hold.

"Yes," I said.