Off Balance: A Memoir (15 page)

Everything felt as if it were moving in slow motion and then Tata’s booming voice trumped everything.

“Why do you have food!?!?” Tata snapped in Romanian.

Then he started saying that the Karolyis had called him up to the ranch because I was not “working hard.” I just stood there completely frozen. I felt like I was in a dream and I thought if I didn’t move, maybe they wouldn’t see me. I was scared to death. I feared that this was all because of the Mentos and gum.

The Karolyis were standing directly behind Tata, smugly shaking their heads. I hated the look of satisfaction on their faces as Tata scolded me. I looked to Mama, who was standing to Tata’s right. She looked sad and powerless.

“Why are you here if you’re not going to work hard?” he continued before I could even process his first question.

“Why are you eating what you’re not supposed to eat?” And with that, I figured out what this was all about.

Oh
, I said to myself,
the candy
. I suspected this meeting had been motivated by the food found in my teddy bear or my gym bag. Other gymnasts had suspected that the Karolyis would search luggage, the rooms, and the fridge in the cabin house where gymnasts stayed, looking for hidden food or other things they considered a distraction. I never found out how they knew about the teddy bear, but I didn’t answer Tata as he kept getting angrier and angrier. Mama’s eyes were sad, which only made me feel worse.

“Why are you eating what you are not supposed to?” Tata blurted one last time before hitting me across my right cheek so hard that it made my whole body jerk back. The blow made a loud noise and I grabbed my cheek with my right hand to try to stop the stinging. It didn’t help.

At that moment I despised the Karolyis for calling Tata and
hated Tata for humiliating me in this way for eating a handful of Mentos and a few Twizzlers. I rarely had chocolate or high-fat food, only a few low-fat treats that I ate sparingly.

I remember refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me cry, but somehow I still felt tears flooding down my face.

I lost all respect for Marta and Bela at that moment as the two of them stood there seeming to gloat and nodding as if their mission were complete. I couldn’t bear to look at them anymore. Nobody, including Mama, reacted to the wallop across my face. I figured they all knew it was coming—God knows, Mama was expecting it since she’d seen Tata lose control and get physical countless times before.

I just stood there before them, staring down at the green carpet beneath my feet. Tata could’ve beaten my seventy-pound body to a pulp. I would never have told them it was Janice who smuggled in my treats. They didn’t deserve to speak her name. I didn’t even want to look at any of them. Marta spoke next.

“Okay, get ready for practice.”

Time had frozen for me during this incident. Marta breaking the heavy silence served to remind me that I had been in the den for about half an hour receiving verbal and physical abuse.

I ran out of the house. As soon as I passed the guard dog, I started sobbing. I sprinted back to the cabin even though I really wanted to run deep into the forest outside the ranch and never be found again. Horrible thoughts ran through my head. I wanted to get as far away from that place, the Karolyis, and my father as I could and never come back, but somehow I kept heading toward the cabin. I prayed for God to help me get through practice and the next few months before the Olympics. I had made way too many sacrifices to get to where I was, and I wasn’t going to let these cowards take my opportunity from me.
After the Olympics
, I thought to myself,
I will be finished with this goal and I don’t have to see the Karolyis again
.

When I opened to the door to our cabin, I saw Kerri in the bathroom getting ready for practice.

“What happened?” She looked scared and worried, her eyes as big as saucers. I know she probably thought she saw a monster barge through our door when Tata came to grab me. I didn’t have the heart or energy to tell her the details, both for her sake and for mine. I was drained. I moved in slow motion, putting on my leotard and putting my hair in a ponytail for practice. I still don’t know how I mustered up the strength to get through that afternoon session, but somehow I did it.

Chapter 7

JENNIFER

I
still wake up sometimes and wonder if it was all a dream—do I really have a “secret sister”? I sometimes literally shake my head in disbelief at what a whirlwind these past few years have been for me and my family: the birth of my children, the death of my father, and, after twenty years of being kept in the dark, the discovery of my sister Jennifer. Since Jennifer came into our lives in December 2007, I’ve spent countless hours daydreaming and reliving my childhood, picturing how different my life would have been had Jennifer been a part of our family growing up. I find myself imagining “what
if” and “what could have been” over and over again. Sometimes I get so angry at my parents for knowingly separating us, and I can’t stop dwelling on what
should
have been. Other times, I am more sympathetic and understanding, and I can see that Mama and Tata actually believed they were doing the right thing for everyone concerned. The one certainty is that my sister Christina and I are grateful that Jennifer is finally in our lives today.

We have been trying to catch up for lost time and learn as much as possible about Jennifer, but how do you cram twenty-plus years of life that’s been lived into the here and now? Every day, we uncover something new or surprising about Jen, who is truly an incredible and inspiring person.

Jennifer was born in Salem, Illinois, on October 1, 1987. She grew up in Hardinville, Illinois, a town near the Indiana border that is so small I couldn’t even find it on the map. As Jennifer describes it, Hardinville had one four-way intersection with stop signs at the center of town and no stoplights. Quite a contrast to my childhood neighborhoods in Hollywood, Chicago, Tampa, and ultimately Houston, which has over 2.3 million people and lives by the motto “Everything is bigger in Texas!”

Jennifer was adopted within the first few months of birth by Sharon and Gerald Bricker. Having now had the pleasure of knowing the Brickers, I understand how and why Jennifer has grown to be such a strong, confident woman. The Brickers are some of the most kind-hearted, down-to-earth people I have ever met. Sharon and Gerald had three sons: Brad, Brian (“Bubba”), and Greg, and had always longed for a fourth child, a daughter. Sharon wasn’t able to have more children, so they decided they would adopt a baby girl, and that’s how Jennifer entered their lives.

The Bricker boys were fourteen, twelve, and ten years old when Jennifer came into the family. The brothers were excited and enthusiastic about adding a little sister. Brad, Bubba, and Greg absolutely adored Jennifer and doted on her. She was the princess of the family
in the sense of being the only girl, and the boys were extremely protective of her, but they certainly didn’t treat her like a delicate little flower. They taught her to be tough, rowdy, and bold. That she had been born without legs was never considered a handicap to any of the Brickers, and from a very early age, Jennifer participated in every sport, game, or adventure that got in front of her. Alongside her three big brothers and neighborhood friends, she would jump off of things, climb trees, do handstands and flips, get dirty, and fling herself into any stunt or physical feat you can imagine that the most rambunctious young boy might do. Jennifer credits her brothers for teaching her to be fearless, and they are all still very close today.

By the time of baby Jennifer’s arrival, Sharon had retired from the bakery where she’d worked when the boys were young and where she’d become known for baking the “best cakes in town.” Sharon was now a stay-at-home mom available to care for and nurture baby Jennifer full-time. Over the years, Gerald worked as a carpenter and also at oil refineries, which required heavy physical labor. The Brickers are a hardworking, loving family who stressed strong morals and family values. As Jennifer describes it, her home life was stable and full of love and support. She says her parents had minor arguments and bickered here and there like any other family, but they always “talked out” their problems, so there was never lingering tension in their home.

Jennifer’s words, “talked out,” stuck in my mind. How I had wished my parents did more talking when I was young. I mostly remember Mama and Tata either arguing when they disagreed or not talking at all. And the tense moments in our home were far more common than the peaceful ones. Many of Christina’s and my childhood memories were plagued with fear, sadness, and occasional threats of violence. When I think about these painful times, I am happy for Jennifer that she had such a positive home life—and I can’t help but think that the Bricker home was a better place for Jennifer to grow up than mine was.

Jennifer easily recites her mom’s daily routine from when Jennifer was a child: Sharon would wake early, around five or six in the morning, fix breakfast (usually bacon, eggs, and toast for Gerald), get the boys off to school, then spend the day with Jennifer. Her mom was an even-tempered, happy woman who cherished being a mother to Jennifer and her brothers and taking care of the house and family business while Gerald worked.

Jennifer describes her father Gerald as “a strong man’s man, with a sensitive side.” Jennifer says that she and her father are similar in a lot of ways—hardheaded and strong-willed, but compassionate, too. Whenever Jennifer had an argument with her parents and stormed off to her room, especially during her teen years, her dad would always wind up coming to her room to talk to her.

“Can we be friends?” her dad would say, to kick off the conversation, and they’d end up talking and working things out.

What I wouldn’t have given for Tata to have said, “Can we be friends?” or anything even remotely similar to me, Christina, or Mama after one of our family blowups. Of course, in Tata’s defense, his “rule the house with an iron fist” mentality was clearly a rehash of what he had witnessed in his own home when he was a child. He grew up watching his father explode and become physically abusive to his mother; he rarely saw any love or kindness expressed between them. I know his history doesn’t justify or make it okay that he was abusive to us, but it does give me a better understanding of Tata and the world he came from. It’s very difficult to break free from that pattern of abuse, especially when you’ve been surrounded by it your entire life and haven’t had positive role models. I just wish things had been different in our home, for all of our sakes.

When Jennifer reminisces and relives her childhood anecdotes with me now, she often chuckles and smiles. She has so many joyful memories that I’m actually in awe at times. Right before I met Jen, I had a million questions and a million concerns, too. I wondered
if she was lonely, growing up away from her two sisters, if she had felt abandoned by her birth family, or if she had had a difficult life of struggle because she was born with no legs. To know Jennifer now and see her as part of this tight-knit Bricker family, I realize how off-base my initial concerns were. Her life is almost the exact opposite of what I had imagined when I first heard from her. During our first conversation, I found myself thinking,
Thank God someone was watching over her, so she didn’t have to suffer like Christina and I did
.

Jennifer attended public school ten miles from her home—in Oblong, another small town with a population of approximately two thousand. When she started kindergarten at Oblong Elementary School, the other children obviously noticed that Jennifer was different. Moving around in a wheelchair naturally drew attention.

“This is the way God made me,” Jennifer would always respond matter-of-factly when other kids stared or asked what happened to her legs. That’s what her parents had always told her and that’s what she believed. No one treated Jennifer differently at home—she participated in every activity just like her brothers and was expected to contribute to the household chores and responsibilities just as her brothers did. She certainly didn’t expect anyone to treat her as “handicapped” at school, either. Jennifer recalls that within a very short time the other students were completely used to her. So much so that they’d often forget that she didn’t have legs. Growing up, Jennifer sometimes wore prosthetic legs that had been specially designed for her, but ultimately she felt that they slowed her down and stifled her, so she wore them only once in a while. I was shocked when Jennifer told me that her public high school was in a four-story building with no elevator. She climbed the stairs between classes just like everyone else and had a wheelchair stashed on each floor in case she needed it.

To Jennifer, having no legs simply means that she may have to go about doing what everyone else does a bit differently, but it
has never dawned on her to not do these things at all. Gerald and Sharon always taught Jennifer that “I can’t” is not part of their vocabulary, and it wouldn’t be part of Jennifer’s, either. Her parents instilled great confidence in her and nurtured her self-esteem from the start. Jennifer grew up believing she could do whatever she set her mind to.

Sports was one of those things Jennifer gravitated to with gusto. Like Mama, Jennifer is a natural athlete, and since childhood she has demonstrated a high level of coordination and skill with almost anything she attempts. Jennifer loved sports and participated in almost every athletic activity offered from the time she was very young through high school. She did softball, basketball, volleyball, gymnastics, and tumbling, among others. Sometimes her parents would have to alter her equipment in order for her to play a particular sport, but they always seemed to figure it out. I’ve actually seen some of the Brickers’ home videos of Jen rounding the bases in softball and diving for a volley in volleyball. She’s always been a competitor. There wasn’t anything her parents ever discouraged her from doing, or at least trying. Even when Jennifer decided she wanted to roller skate with the other kids, her parents crafted makeshift skates that could attach to her hands and voilà, she was off!