“Baby, you’re in no condition to be in any race…”
Jillian is beside herself. “WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” she demands. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Nobody did anything to me. I mean, think about it: Some people locked me in a room for a few hours, and then I slept for a whole day. And that’s it! I feel great! And, shit, after all that happened to Sunshine, she’s in the race, isn’t she?”
G.W. is glum. “We tried to talk her out of it”, he says. “She wouldn’t listen to us. She said… she said that she was going to show everybody. She said that she was going to win, that it would make up for all the things that happened to her.”
“Good girl! She’s a competitor. And if she can do it, I certainly can do it.”
G.W. tries to be stern. “But that’s the point, Jill,” he says. “She shouldn’t be doing it. And you shouldn’t be doing it, either. And you won’t be. Not after what you’ve been through. And anyway, it’s all moot. It’s too late.”
Jillian is aghast. “What do you mean it’s too late? What time is it? What time does the race start?”
G.W. glances at his watch. “It’s a little after six-thirty,” he says. “And the race starts at eight. So you might as well forget about it, Jill. There’s no way you can get there in time.”
She’s incredulous. “An hour and a half? Shit, I can be ready in five minutes! Where’s my stuff? Is it all still back at the house?”
“You don’t understand,” he says. “All of your equipment – your bicycle, your clothes, everything – it’s all packed up and on the plane, at the airport. Jago’s there with it, waiting for us. And as soon as the doctor checks you out, we go to the airport, and we get the hell out of this shithole of a country.”
֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍ ֍
She appears to be stunned. She sits back down on the couch. “At the airport?” she says, weakly. “All my stuff?”
“That’s right,” he confirms, smelling victory. “And that’s all the way on the other side of town. And the race site is like twenty miles in the other direction. It would take us half the day just to drive all that distance, the way traffic is around here. So even if it was okay for you to be in the race – which it’s not – there just isn’t any time. I’m sorry, baby. There’ll be other races. Hell, there’s another Olympics in four years, you’re not exactly gonna be over the hill.”
“Daddy?”
“Yes, precious?”
She’s quiet, deep in thought, her brow furrowed. She seems to have calmed down. Good, he thinks, she’s resigning herself to it. It must be a terrible disappointment, but…
“Daddy, you could get a helicopter to fly my stuff from the airport to the race site, couldn’t you? Jago’s on the plane, he knows what I need, he could get it ready in a flash. And then the helicopter could come by here and pick me up and take me to the race. Or if that’s cutting it too close, you could get another helicopter to pick me up here and take me to the race, and I’ll meet the other helicopter there. That will work.”
She nods her head, still thinking. “That will work,” she says again.
G.W.’s mouth drops open. He searches his mind for reasons why it won’t work. Could I scrounge up two helicopters on such short notice? he wonders. Could I get clearance to land two helicopters at the race site, security being as tight as it is? But even before he voices his objections, he knows the answers: a few quick phone calls – the Minister of the Interior, the Minister of Defense, the Home Secretary, various other people that he’s chatted with in the last few days – and everything could be arranged. Easily.
It could be arranged.
But it won’t be.
This time, I’m going to put my foot down. Possible or not, he thinks, there’s no way I can allow it to happen. I have to consider her well-being. That comes first. Even if I can’t come up with any good reasons, even if I can’t convince her that it’s for her own good, I’m just going to have to forbid this insanity. She just can’t be in the race. Because I say so. And that’s that.
But when he looks into her eyes he sees the pleading, the desperation – and most of all, he sees the bottomless depth of her determination. And even before he says a word, he can see the way the argument will go – what he’ll say, what she’ll say, back and forth, back and forth…
He sighs, shakes his head. Despite his best efforts, a trace of a smile appears on his lips.
“What is it, Daddy?” she asks. She recognizes surrender when she sees it, and she’s pretty sure that she’s looking at it right now.
“I guess it can be done,” he admits, reluctantly. “There’s only one thing I’m worried about.”
“What’s that?” she asks, poised to overcome any objection.
“The only thing I can’t figure out,” he says, “is: How am I going to explain this to your mother?”
Book 6
Transformation
Transition
Book 6: Transformation
Part 1:
The Race
6.1.1: Tanami
“Good morning! Or perhaps I should say ‘good evening’ to those of you settling down in front of your TV screens or streaming us on your phones and tablets back in the states. But here in Tanami, on the sandy shores of Lake Taekana, it’s a beautiful morning, not a cloud in the sky. The temperature’s already up to a balmy seventy-one degrees, and it’s not nearly as humid as it’s been here over the last two weeks. In short, it’s a perfect day for the running of the first-ever Olympic women’s long-distance triathlon – or perhaps I should say that it’s a perfect day for the swimming, the biking, and the running of the first-ever Olympic women’s long-distance triathlon.
“Hi, I’m Dave Spivey, and I’m glad you could join me for this exciting event. And as if the long-distance triathlon isn’t dramatic enough all by itself – a swim of nearly two-and-a-half miles followed by a grueling one-hundred-twelve-mile bicycle ride followed by a full marathon, a run of twenty-six-point-two miles through the sweltering midday heat of the subtropical Qen Phon summer – but as I say, as if the triathlon isn’t dramatic enough all by itself, it’s been overshadowed by the tragic events that have unfolded over the last two days. Two American triathletes kidnapped. A third critically wounded. A Russian triathlete injured as well. The cold-blooded murder of an American journalist. And then the dramatic and bloody rescue of the kidnap victims. I’m sure that you folks have been following that incredible story on the news.
“But this morning, we’re not here to talk about terrorism. Hopefully, all that’s all behind us – and if it’s publicity that the terrorists are after, they’re not going to get any more of it here. Instead, we’re here to watch a race this morning, a race that was nearly canceled in response to the extraordinary events of the last two days. As recently as yesterday, J. Stanton Kennedy, the head of the U.S. Olympic Committee and the godfather of Jill Kendal, one of the kidnap victims, was threatening to withdraw the U.S. Olympic team from the remaining events if the IOC, the International Olympic Committee, did not halt the race. Kennedy’s stance was not popular with many of the American athletes, some of whom were quite outspoken in their objections to his position. But then came the dramatic rescue, which changed everything. Kennedy relented. And yesterday evening, the IOC voted unanimously to hold this historic race as originally planned.
“Jill Kendal, the American woman who has dominated this event for the past three years, was heavily favored to win the race today. Unfortunately, her recent brush with terrorism has landed her in the hospital, and she will not be participating in the race. In fact, our sources tell us that she’s already flying back to the United States on a private jet belonging to her father, Texas oilman G.W. Kendal. I’m sure that I speak for all of us here at the network when I wish Jill a speedy recovery. Jill, we’re all looking forward to seeing you back in action just as soon as possible.
“But there’s another story here today, something that is truly amazing – and that in a week filled with one a
mazing story after another. As I said, Jill Kendal, one of the American athletes who was kidnapped two days ago and rescued yesterday, is reported to be on her way back to the U.S. and, understandably, will not be in the race today. But Sunshine O’Malley, the other American triathlete who was kidnapped with Jill Kendal, will be in the race today. Let me repeat that – I know it sounds incredible, but it is a fact. Sunshine O’Malley – the brave, young athlete who was kidnapped by terrorists less than forty-eight hours ago and rescued by commando units of the Qen Phon military just yesterday morning – Sunshine O’Malley will be racing today. In fact, you’re looking at her right now – that’s Sunshine in the white bathing suit, standing there with her feet in the water.
“We tried to interview Sunshine, but she’s been in seclusion ever since the dramatic rescue. And when she arrived here at the race site this morning, she headed straight for the starting area, which is off-limits to the press. It’s hard to imagine what must be going through her mind right now, after the terrible ordeal that she’s been though. But I know that all of our hopes and prayers are with this gutsy little lady. No matter what her real chances are, and no matter what the outcome of today’s event, I have to believe that she’s the overwhelming sentimental favorite of almost everybody here today.
“But realistically, what are Sunshine O’Malley’s chances? For more on that, let me turn to my companion here in the network booth, a woman whom I suspect would rather be out there on the starting line with Sunshine O’Malley and the rest of the triathletes than up here in the booth with me. I’d like to welcome the newest addition to our Olympic broadcast team, one of the pioneers of women’s triathlon, one of the greatest triathletes of all time, Cindi Peet. Cindi’s going to be helping me out up here today and again for the men’s triathlon tomorrow, providing expert commentary from the unique perspective of her many, many years as a world-class triathlete. Cindi, it’s great to have you with us.”
She’s laughing. “Thanks, Dave, but you don’t have to make me sound like such an antique. But you’re right, I would give my eyeteeth to be down there with the rest of the girls right now. Triathletes have been waiting for this moment for an awfully long time.”
“And I should mention, Cindi, that many people feel that you are the one person most singularly responsible for the astounding rise in the popularity of the triathlon…”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far…”
“… that has occurred in recent years, and which has led directly to the surprise inclusion of the long-distance triathlon in this year’s Olympic Games. It’s hard to believe that at what many people consider to have been the first ‘real’ triathlon – the 1978 Ironman competition in Hawaii – there were only fifteen entrants, twelve of whom completed the demanding course. These days, the Ironman attracts over ten thousand applications, they actually have to resort to a lottery to select the applicants who will be allowed to compete. More than a thousand people participate in that race each year – and, incredibly, nearly all of them complete the race. And, of course, hundreds of other triathlons of varying distances are held all over the United States – and around the world – every year.
“At first, the triathlon didn’t attract a whole lot of attention from the sporting public. I guess you could say that it was considered to be some kind of an oddity, an aberration rather than a true sporting event. I mean, who were these crazy people who would willingly subject their bodies to such horrendous abuse? They must be freaks, or mutants.
“Sports Illustrated covered the second Ironman, in 1979, and ABC’s Wide World of Sports showed up the next year. But it wasn’t until the eighth Ironman, in March of 1985, that an event occurred that galvanized everyone who witnessed it – and, I think it’s safe to say, inspired a generation of triathletes and gave a whole new meaning to the word ‘determination.’ To my mind, it stands as one of the most thrilling moments in the history of sports, and it gives me great pleasure to tell you that that incredible moment was provided by the woman sitting right next to me in the broadcast booth, our own Cindi Peet.”
She laughs again. “I assure you,” she says, “that I did not provide that excitement on purpose.”
“It’s hard to imagine that any sports fan, anywhere, has not seen this video by now. But just in case there’s someone in some dark corner of the world who hasn’t seen it yet, we’re going to roll it again for you right now. Cindi, I suspect you’ve seen this before?”
“Many times. Too many times.”
The video rolls. A younger Cindi Peet staggers toward the finish line. It’s dark, and distinct forms are difficult to make out. She’s been racing for more than eleven hours. The first male triathlete finished nearly two hours ago. Some fifty other men have finished since then, but it appears that Cindi will be the first woman to cross the finish line. She’s worn out, completely exhausted. Even worse, she’s bypassed too many of the aid stations, and she’s seriously dehydrated. But the finish line is just yards away. Surely, she can hold on just long enough to win…
But suddenly, to the horror of the crowd that has gathered at the finish line in the harsh glare of the TV lights, the impossible happens: Cindi collapses. Her legs simply refuse to support her for even fifteen more yards – which is about all that separates her from victory. In the last eleven hours she’s covered more than one hundred forty miles under her own power: two-point-four miles swimming, one-hundred-twelve miles biking, and about twenty-six-point-one-nine miles running. But now, with less than fifty feet to go, her overworked body has simply shut down.
People rush to assist her. Incredibly, she waves them off. Her thoughts are muddled, but one thought shines through with incredible clarity: If she accepts any assistance, however well-intentioned, she’ll be disqualified. Her Herculean effort will have been in vain. And she does not plan for that to happen.
She cannot walk. So she crawls. She can barely even do that. It’s painful just to watch as she inches her way toward the finish line.
Bedlam reigns. Even with the TV lights it’s hard to see exactly what’s going on. Another woman triathlete passes Cindi and crosses the finish line; in the confusion, she’s not even aware of Cindi’s agonizing progress toward her elusive goal. In fact, Diana Lennon can’t even find the finish line, which she assumes that Cindi has already crossed. Desperate, Diana asks for help in locating the finish line, only to learn that she’s already crossed it. And that she’s won the women’s portion of the race.
But all eyes are focused on Cindi Peet. Her head is just a foot or so above the ground – and so, unlike Diana Lennon, Cindi has no problem in seeing the finish line. But reaching it is another matter altogether.
When just a foot separates her from the white stripe that marks the end of her journey, she collapses again.
She rolls over on her back.
She stretches her arm up over her shoulder.
Her fingertips cross the stripe.
Officially, Cindi Peet finishes the women’s portion of the 1985 Ironman in second place, less than half a minute behind women’s winner Diana Lennon.
Unofficially, her dogged determination wins the hearts of people around the world, and introduces countless thousands of future triathletes – and triathlon fans – to a sport that they otherwise might not have noticed for years, if ever.
Dave Spivey describes the action as it unfolds – although, for the most part, the video speaks eloquently for itself. “Are you tired of seeing this by now?” he asks, when the video is finished.
“I was tired of it years ago,” Cindi says, with a pleasant laugh. “But I’m used to it by now. I guess it’ll follow me around for the rest of my life. It’s my curse.”
“Okay, Cindi, here’s the situation. The race is set to start in about ten minutes. Less than forty-eight hours ago, Sunshine O’Malley had her training schedule rudely interrupted by a terrorist incident. Although she wasn’t physically hurt – or at least, not as far as we know – I’ve got to believe that an ordeal like that c
reates an awful lot of psychological baggage to carry into a race like this – which, after all, is an incredibly rigorous event, one that requires athletes to be at the very peak of their form, mentally as well as physically. So my question to you is: What kind of effect will the kidnapping have on Sunshine? Does she even stand a chance in this race? It took a heck of a lot of courage for her just to show up today, and I guess you could say that that, in itself, is a victory of sorts. But realistically, what are her chances of winning?”
“Well, Dave, I don’t know that I can really answer that question. Obviously, I’ve never been through anything even remotely resembling what Sunshine’s gone through. I don’t think any triathlete has. And I don’t know Sunshine personally. She just started racing competitively something like six weeks ago. Which is pretty incredible in itself. But anyway, I have no good way to judge how much mental toughness she has. I wasn’t able to talk to Sunshine, but I was able to get an interview with her mother last night, and she said…”
“I should point out for our viewers who may not be aware of it that Sunshine O’Malley’s mother is none other than the former Corinne McVeigh, the young swimmer who won all those gold medals – three or four of them, as I recall – in the… which Olympics was that? What was that, twelve years ago? Sixteen? Anybody? Well, anyway, sorry to interrupt you, Cindi…”
“Oh, that’s okay Dave. I was just saying that I talked to Corinne O’Malley, Sunshine’s mom, last night, and Corinne was very upset about Sunshine racing today. She told me that she wanted Sunshine to fly home on the plane with Jill Kendal, to get away from Qen Phon just as quickly as possible. She was very upset, Dave. But she said that Sunshine had refused to even listen to her…”
“Cindi, sorry to interrupt again, but I just got word that… Yes! There she is! I see her! Guys, can we pick her up on camera? Over there, in the yellow bathing suit, on the far side of the crowd, right on the edge of it, just heading into it, just now. She’s walking toward the lake… That’s it! Good work, guys…
Transition Page 87