“This part of the test is about physical trust and communication,” Lord Forchan explains. “For the first challenge, you’ll need to get on your bellies in the sand, with your hands clasped behind your backs.”
We’re hesitant at first, waiting for him to explain the whole thing before we begin. When it’s clear he’s not going to, we get into position.
“All my hands behind my back?” Ziv asks.
“Yes. All four.” The lord clears his throat. “You both must return to a standing position from where you are now, without using your hands. You may use your heads and necks to assist one another, but never unclasp your hands. Are you ready? Begin!”
“Wait, what the fuck?” Give a girl a moment to get situated.
Ziv and I wiggle toward each other until the tops of our heads touch, then we flop and scrunch and end up in a variety of unflattering poses to get to our knees. The sand makes this incredibly difficult, because whenever one of us gets a bit of leverage, our toes slide through the sand, and we end up flat on our bellies. I get to my knees first and notice Ziv is struggling, likely because he’s so top heavy.
I look down at myself and estimate that I can probably get to my feet right now, but if Ziv can’t even lift his chest, we’re fucked. I tuck my chin into my chest and attempt a graceful roll back down, but it’s more of a thud. Wiggling forward on my knees, I press my head into his left shoulder.
“Ziv, do what I’m doing.”
“Mm?” he grunts. He lifts his head, his cheek covered in sand and watches me demonstrate.
“Push your head against me, I’ll push back, and you’ll have leverage to lift yourself up.”
He scoffs. “That’s not going to work, June. I’m twice your size.”
“Just try it,” I reply, clearly annoyed. “If it doesn’t work we’ll reassess.”
“Fine.” He’s out of breath, but he follows my lead.
I make sure to inch my head lower and lower as we pretend to be bulls, until I’m able to get the back of my head beneath his shoulder. “Come on, Ziv. Push. You’ve got this.”
A long, rattling groan echoes out of him as his chest slowly rises. Once he’s up, the pressure on my neck disappears, and we both lean back on our heels before standing.
“Next challenge.”
“There’s more?” Ziv shouts with a dramatic roll of his eyes.
I can’t blame him. I’m out of breath and shaky from the first challenge, and he’s not giving us a break before the second.
Lord Forchan smiles. “Yes. There’s more.” He gestures for his minions to get down in the dirt for a demonstration. “One of you lays on your back with your knees bent. The other person faces the opposite direction, belly down. You must hold onto each other’s knees, and mimic a walk, one person on the ground, and the other in the air above them.”
At first, the description of this challenge makes no fucking sense, but when Dumb and Dumber act it out, it doesn’t seem like it would be that hard.
“Okay, I’ll hold you up,” Ziv says.
“Yeah, that’s the only way to do this.” The alternative would be like trying to lift a cast-iron pan with only my pinky. Ziv lays back on the sand with his knees bent, and I climb over him as if we’re about to sixty-nine. My hands settle on his legs just below his knees, and I feel like we’re about to rock this pose until my feet leave the ground. “Whoa, hold the goddamn phone.”
He puts me down. “What? I need to lift you.”
“I know, I wasn’t ready.”
“Rest your weight on my shins. It’ll be less awkward when I lift your legs.”
“Okay, okay. I’m good.” I get into position, and my feet leave the ground, and we’re perfectly still for one second when I realize how hard this is going to be. “Now we have to move? Fuck me.” Why didn’t I get good at holding plank pose? That would’ve come in real handy right about now.
“I’m going to move my legs,” he says from beneath me. “You need to move yours too. Back and forth.”
I start moving my bottom half, and it feels like he’s about to drop me. I find myself tilting to one side, but Ziv shifts me back into place.
“Not like that. You have to trust me, June. Okay?”
“Yeah,” I mutter, not trusting him. “I trust you.”
