“Hmm, okay, let’s see what we can do,” Alma said, tapping one pink nail against her nose. “It’s a bit tricky without an actual team, but we’ll manage.”

The next thing I knew, all three of us were geared up in skates, helmets, and padding (they insisted, I relented), and I was in the middle of the cul-de-sac with them.

“All right, Daya. You’re hoping to be a blocker, correct?” Alma asked.

“Yeah.” Is it that obvious?

“And why is that?”

I pulled my skates back and forth along the pavement. “I think I’ll be good at it—I like bumping around and stuff. I guess I’m pretty tough.” I know I am.

“Well, that will certainly help. Another important aspect of being a good blocker is working with your fellow blockers. I’m going to show you a few things about using each other to contain the jammer. It might require that you and I get a little cozy—are you all right with that?”

Staring at five-foot-nothing Alma in her roller skates, hands on hips, it was impossible not to be all right with that. I nodded. “Yes.”

For the next hour, Alma showed me how to control a very enthusiastic Joe, who was acting as jammer. She taught me how to support her in staying sturdy by pressing my thigh against her butt cheek and sliding back and forth while staying tight with her as Joe tried to get past us. When we switched roles and she was behind me, I admired how solid she felt, despite her age and short stature.

Then she, Joe, and I practiced a triangle formation, linking up with one another and turning this way and that to keep a jammer at bay. They taught me how to brace them, to fill in any gaps a jammer might try to sneak through, and to flip places with the other blockers if needed. At one point, Joe brought out some chairs, which he placed on the outer edge of the cul-de-sac—to represent my other blockers—and they showed me how to lead the jammer (Joe again) into the cluster as a trap.

All these maneuvers took strength, for sure, but they also demanded a certain intricacy, a flexibility and quickness I hadn’t realized would be involved. Alma was solid and powerful, but also hella nimble.

At the end of the hour, I said, between seriously huffy breaths, “How are you two this strong and fit at your age?” They barely seemed to be breathing hard.

“Love does all manner of magic to your body, Daya!” Joe called out to the entire neighborhood.

“That’s true,” Alma added. “Strength comes from all kinds of places.” She accepted a peck on the cheek from Joe.