The Chosen Ones

by Lisa Luciano

  “You don’t know what’s going on.”

  “But you do, and dat means you can do something about it.”

  “I’m in too deep,” he explained, swallowing hard, but still feeling nauseous. The volume of the music booming from a jukebox made conversation almost impossible, but Wasser could see the almost impenetrable layer of anguish on Glenn’s face.

  “When I was a boy back in Prague, I wanted to skate so bad, I went out onto a pond before it was solid frozen. De ice cracked. I fell in. As I tried to save myself, I vas sure I was going to die. Den suddenly, I thought, no. I won’t be a victim. I stayed calm and floated until someone came to help me.”

  “Too much has already happened. I can’t wait.”

  “Den act.”

  Wasser slowly reached for the cigarettes sitting on the bar. Glenn beat him to it. He knew what Willie expected. As his hand shook, Glenn crushed the pack between his fingers.

  “Your parents were teachers, weren’t they?” Wasser said. “My guess is dey’d want you to carry on in their place. You have de chance to teach de world an invaluable lesson. But to do dat, you have to have learned it yourself.”

  “What does that mean?” Glenn asked, not sure he really wanted the answer. “It’s time you figured dat out. If you don’t, you’ll surely drown.”

  Brody continued searching the Olympic Village for TJ. He had more questions. With any luck, maybe he could even convince him to go on the record about Ratner and his organization’s dirty dealings. TJ. was pretty ballsy and definitely got off on bucking the system. But he was undeniably a part of it as well. Brody knew it was probably just wishful thinking that anyone would have the guts to stand up to this monolith, but what did he have to lose by asking?

  A few people thought they’d seen TJ head toward the pool. As Brody neared the area that appeared to be deserted, he heard an agonizing wail. He ran to the source.

  Just outside the locker room, he found a neatly dressed young woman kneeling beside TJ who was lying face up on the cold floor tiles. Brody had seen that look before during his days covering the crime beat for his hometown paper. The eyes were fixed, the skin gray. He pressed his fingers against TJ’s neck, but felt nothing. The woman rocked back and forth as she moaned again.

  “Jesus,” Brody said, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. “What the hell happened?”

  The woman could barely speak between sobs.

  “I tried to make him understand. But he didn’t… want me. I had no choice. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I only gave him enough to make him sick. Then he would pass out and I would revive him. And he’d be grateful. And he’d love me. We’d be together. I told them. I told them this would happen. I wanted them to stop me.”

  Brody stood, suddenly recognizing the voice.

  “Somebody has to do something. One of the world’s top male skaters is in danger. He’ll be dead before the end of the Olympics.”

  “Oh my God,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.

  He wanted to laugh at his own stupidity, but couldn’t dredge up anything but dazed acceptance.

  So this was the great murder plot, he thought. Some freakin’ detectives we turned out to be.

  Then he remembered what he’d discovered about Juergen’s death. It wasn’t all for nothing, but he never thought the truth would have such a high price.

  He stared at TJ and was consoled slightly by the fact that there was no pain evident on his much too young looking face. Brody reluctantly acknowledged that at various times in his life he had thought about checking out, and wondered if this is how TJ would have wanted it to end. Maybe he’d think it was cool, but Brody couldn’t imagine how even a modicum of glory could possibly result from a highly-trained precision instrument being reduced to a useless, empty shell.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling the young woman to her feet and leading her out the door. “I need time to think.”

  Sally Ann Tomasson watched them put her son’s lifeless body on a stretcher as Ralph Ratner talked to the police.

  “No leads yet,” the officer said, his hands clasped behind his back. “Witnesses saw two people leave the scene. Minutes later, we received an anonymous call from a man. That’s how we found the victim.”

  “Keep me informed,” Ratner instructed, slapping him on the back

  and receiving an icy glance in return.

  TJ’s mother had pulled back the sheet covering his face and was gently combing his hair with her fingers, pressing it against the top and sides to make it lay flat.

  “See?” she asked him. “Didn’t I always try to tell you how much better it looks this way? Why didn’t you listen to me?”

  Ratner clamped his hands around her shoulders from behind and pulled her back. Together, they watched the paramedics take the body away.

  “Such a waste. We did what we could, but he was hell bent on destruction,” he said, shaking his head with all the contrived sorrow he could muster.

  She whirled around and pounded her fists into his chest, staggering him.

  “You bastard! You killed him! We all did!”

  He caught her by the wrists just as another assault came at him and hustled her off into the corner.

  “Look, what’s done is done. It’s nobody’s fault. Now if you cooperate, we’ll make your son the hero in death he never would have been in life. An endowment fund in his name. Tribute shows. The works.”

  Her eyes widened in horror. They were red and swollen, but for once, she didn’t care about her appearance.

  “You’re going to glorify someone who died of a drug overdose?” she asked. “Who said anything about a drug overdose? No. I have no doubt the autopsy which will be performed by a carefully selected staff member will show irrefutable evidence that TJ was the victim of a genetic heart defect that tragically went undetected… That is, unless you want to burden the public with a story that will be impossible to prove and destroy your reputation as well as his… forever.”

  Robby stood with his hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans, staring out the window which looked down onto the front of the compound. Fences. Guards. Security cars patrolling the area. What would the public think if they knew the people they revered and heralded as heroes were actually prisoners, he wondered. Would they consider it a fair price for fleeting, but obscenely immense fame and fortune? Given the chance, would they sell their souls for it? Had he?

  As the door swung open, he turned and stared at Brody who marched into the room, not caring whether anyone noticed or wondered why.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Robby said.

  “Just about,” he answered as he dropped into a chair, hoping the distraught young woman he had left locked in his room had not found the strength to move from her fetal position on the bed. “You hear?”

  “Yeah. That’s it. I’m done. I’m catching the next plane out of here.”

  “I’m sure that’s what they’re countin’ on.”

  “Look, I’m no hero. Until now, I lived for this sport. I don’t intend to die for it.” He was too tired to tell Robby what had really happened to TJ and why. He was still trying to process it all himself. And he wasn’t absolutely sure Robby was out of danger. All he knew was that too much had happened for either of them to quit now. Then the bastards would really have won.

  “So what are you gonna do?” Brody asked. “Go home and stock shelves? Pretend all you want that you can just walk away. It ain’t gonna happen. It’ll eat at ya till there’s nothing left inside. At least not anything you or anybody else can love.”

  Brody wished someone had told him that, and a lot more, a long time ago. “How am I supposed to go out there and pretend that any of this is important anymore?” Robby asked.

  “Cause it is. You worked all your life for this chance. Wantin’ to see it through is nothin’ to be ashamed of. Or is it somethin’ else?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Brody sat back, stretched his legs out in f
ront of him, and crossed his legs at the ankles.

  “Givin’ up cause you’re scared you might lose, now that’d be a different story.”

  “I’m not scared,” Robby insisted. “I’ve lost before. I know life will go on, even if I don’t want it to.”

  “Then what is it?”

  The phone rang. Robby placed his hand on the receiver and took a deep breath. This had better be important, he thought.

  “Yeah,” he said. “Mom?… Yes. I’m fine. How’s Dad?… He wants to what?… Is he strong enough to talk?… Okay. Put him on.”

  Robby’s heart pounded as the silence stretched into what seemed like eons. Then a weak voice, barely loud enough to hear, filtered through the receiver and across the ocean.

  “Rob?”

  “Yeah, Dad.”

  “Skate.”

  “Dad—”

  “For me,” he said, gasping for air. “Prove to me…” He paused again. “That I didn’t fail.”

  “You? Why would you—”

  “Show me how strong you are.” One more breath. “Give me a reason to live.” His mother took the phone again.

  “Robby?”

  “Mom, why does his voice sound that way?”

  “His throat is sore from the tube they had to put in. As soon as they took it out, he said he needed to talk to you.”

  “I thought he didn’t want anything to do with me.”

  “That was my fault,” she admitted. “I misunderstood. When I told him I was going to ask you to come home, he got upset. Not because he didn’t want to see you, but because he didn’t want to be the reason you gave up your chance to skate. He knows what it means to you. And now… maybe you know what you mean to him.”

  “Is he really okay?”

  “The doctor said he’ll be fine.”

  “What can I do?”

  “Your best,” she said without hesitation. “He’d never accept anything less… and neither will you.”

  “I don’t get it. He’s wanted me to quit since the first day I took lessons. What made him change his mind?”

  “A very special young lady who apparently loves you as much as we do.”

  Chapter 18

  The next night, the men prepared to take the ice for the final warm up. It seemed as if there was not nearly enough air to breathe with all the athletes, coaches, officials, and miscellaneous well-wishers jammed into the backstage area, not to mention extra security resulting from TJ’s death that was rumored to be the result of an undetected physical condition, but was as of yet, still unresolved officially.

  Each skater searched for a tiny space they could call their own, then stopped as did everyone in the arena to participate in a moment of silence for TJ as directed by the P.A. announcer. A spotlight shone on his mother who stoically waved to the crowd from behind the boards. Ralph Ratner looked on solemnly from a few feet away. The room was still, like a tomb. Then just a quickly as it had ceased, the action resumed like someone had released the pause button on a videotape machine.

  Dale bent deep at the knees taking himself through an imaginary ballet warm up with a huge doors crash bar serving as a makeshift ballet barre. Conway was concerned. Dale said he could block out the pain. His shoulder was wrapped so tight, he probably didn’t have any feeling in it anyway. But what worried his coach more was the unnatural outer calm that glazed over a chilling inner silence. The young man who could hold his own in a conversation with any scholar and who loved the mental challenge of a good debate had not uttered a word since learning of TJ’s death.

  This is a joke. I know it is. He’s going to walk through that door with a big goofy grin and laugh his ass off at all of us. I know it.

  Dimitri gripped his instep, lifting one leg behind him, and then the other, trying to loosen the massive knots forming in his thighs.

  Sasha. Don’t worry. I won’t leave you. I’ll always be here to take care of you. No matter what it takes.

  Glenn held his hands tight against his chest and hopped in place as the roar of the Zamboni faded.

  Well, you did it,TJ old pal. You always liked stealing my spotlight. Don’t forget to look up my parents and make sure you tell them that dumb joke you like so much about the one legged man who walks into a bar carrying a duck under his arm… and tell them to pay attention. Tonight’s for them.

  Robby wandered, pretending to be oblivious to the cameras trailing him through the underground passages.

  A moment of silence. Is that all a life adds up to? There has to be more. Now …and after I’m gone.

  Finally, it was time. The last group of men who would skate for the Olympic title headed toward the tunnel. As they emerged into the glaring lights of the arena, a roar welcomed them. They slipped off their rubber skate guards and took several bold strokes onto the clean white sheet.

  Robby slowed as the others wound their way around the rink. He bent at the waist, then twisted from side to side. He felt strong, secure. He thought back to the beginning, when all he had was himself and his love of skating. A time devoid of confusion or compromises. A time when he knew what he wanted and why.

  As Glenn jumped furiously at center ice, wiping away a few more cobwebs with each burst of applause, Robby remained in the corner, abandoning the game of oneupmanship, choosing instead to turn his blade into a pen. He began etching small spirals. For a few seconds, he heard nothing and saw nothing but the scrapings beneath him. When he was finished, his eyes invited Carol to examine his work. She came to the barrier and looked down at the glazed surface. It was the first figure she’d ever taught him and he’d done it to perfection.

  “Okay?” he asked.

  He’d always trusted her. Now it was her turn. The nod of her head told him he was ready.

  “Gentlemen. Please clear the ice.”

  Everyone retreated backstage except for Dale who would perform first. He didn’t notice the flurry of activity at the judges panel only a few yards away. The head referee rushed from one judge to the next, whispered a few words, then continued. As he approached Montagne, the man raised his hand, waving him away, intent on staring at the empty ice.

  Robby would skate second. For once, he wished he could get it over with. He noticed Paige leaning back against the wall, hugging herself. Despite the heavy cotton sweatshirt and nylon jogging pants, somehow, she just couldn’t shake the chill running through her body. Not even the site of him walking toward her, looking more handsome than she could ever remember, helped.

  “What did you say to my father?” he asked.

  She knew he’d figure it out, but hoped the question would have waited until after the competition.

  “I told him that we were lovers. That we had been for years, and that we were going to get married as soon as you finished skating.”

  “Why?” he asked, incredulous at the thought of lying about something so important.

  “It’s something he needed to hear.”

  “What made you do it?”

  “Something a friend told me.”

  “Who?”

  He would have to stretch her on the rack to get her to admit that Brody had suggested it and wasn’t sure now that it was so smart to listen to him.

  “You lied,” Robby said.

  “Because he believed a lie. He won’t accept you because he thinks you’re gay.”

  “Then that’s his problem.”

  “Only if you don’t need his approval. But you do. That’s what coming back was all about, wasn’t it? It’s not the money or the fame. It’s being able to stick that gold medal in his face and say, I did it! You were wrong. I’m not an embarrassment. I’m not a failure. Well, if that’s what you need to hold onto to get through this, then use it. But you know what? Ten minutes after it’s over, that medal won’t be worth a damn. If you don’t do it for yourself, it might as well be a rock you picked up off the road.”

  Robby turned away. That’s not what he wanted to hear. Paige ran around to face him.

  “There’s nothing
wrong with caring about whether or not your father loves you. I just can’t believe you could doubt it.”

  “He never accepted me or what I do. I’m not sure he does even now.”

  “And you think winning a gold medal will change that? You could get yourself elected emperor of the universe and it wouldn’t make a difference. This Isn’t something you can control.”

  “Why not? Why is everything out of control?” he asked, his sad eyes demanding an answer.

  “Everything isn’t. You can still control what’s most important. What you do out there tonight and how you feel about it after you’re finished. Isn’t that what you told me once a long time ago… on a beach?”

  Don’t women forget anything? he thought.

  “I know one more thing I can’t control. My mother. She’s probably sending out wedding invitations and knitting booties already.”

  “Don’t worry. When the time is right… when your father’s strong enough to handle it, I’ll tell him it was my fault we broke up… and I’ll disappear… if that’s what you want.”

  Paige took a deep breath and released it.

  “I saw you with Brigitta last night. I thought about starting a scene. You know. Hair pulling. Eye gouging. The whole bit. But then I realized that when you were in so much pain and you could share that with anyone in the world, you turned to her.

  If she’s in your heart and I’m not, there’s nothing I can do about it.” She’d said it. Finally. The rest was up to him as it always had been.

  Dale stood like a tin soldier, gripping the boards, shaking his head over and over as Conway looked on.

  “I can’t. I can’t go out there. I have no reason to anymore.”

  “Dale, every time TJ wanted to chicken out, you wouldn’t let him. You said he owed his best performance to the public. Don’t you? Both of you came to me as little boys, bound and determined to skate in the Olympics someday. That was your dream. This may be your only chance. Finish what the two of you started.”

  The young man wiped away angry tears, thought for a moment, then nodded. He had meditated and visualized. He had trained and prepared. Coach was right. His moment was now and despite everything that had happened, he wanted it.