for Caulder
It always scared me when he did his flips. What, I thought, if he should misjudge the landing or slip on take-off and break not just an arm or a leg but his head, already balanced precariously on his shoulders. A mere shrug, it seemed, and he would be unrecognizable. I decided it was best not to mention my concern. Then what I feared most happened, but he was smiling, asking me who I was. It had been fun.