We crowded around the foot of the tree, all giggles and energy, as our group leader climbed up to a platform at least three feet above our heads.

“Catch me” she said and turned around to face the tree.

Really? We are supposed to catch a falling adult?  I watched everyone else with their arms outstretched, still laughing, confident in their ability to catch her. I reached my arms up too, but I stayed toward the edge of the cluster.

She leaned backward and fell into us. Shrieks of laughter exploded all around us as we jostled her onto her feet. Relief flooded me – we hadn’t dropped her.

“Now you do it,” she announced.

As quickly as it came, relief fled. I couldn’t. I didn’t even trust me to catch, how would I ever trust them to?

I hoped they’d forget about me, but our leader kept count. I climbed the ladder slow and trembly. When I finally dropped off the platform, my knees were buckled and my arms outstretched to break my fall. Just in case.

They caught me. But I still didn’t trust them. Or me.

 ***

Some Fridays, I join The Gypsy Mama for her five-minute writing exercise. She gives a writing prompt (this week it was trust), and we just write for five minutes. That’s it. Simple, easy, no agonizing over word choice or topic. You can join in too — just head over to her page and link up your five-minute Friday post with hers!