by Lisa Luciano
“Hey. Give me a break. I’m improvising.”
Kylie took the soda from Glenn, removed the tab, and placed it on the fourth finger of his left hand. Philip handed him the other ring which Glenn gently slid onto Kylie’s finger.
“That’s nice,” Philip said. “Now get your ass out there!”
It was not an enviable position to follow Robby’s strong performance, but it was not something Dimitri was even thinking about as he stood motionless at center ice, the line of his black pants broken by the purple scoop-necked shirt that riveted attention to his small frame. He should’ve been concentrating and visualizing the program, but he had only one thought as he felt the eyes of his nation upon him.
I hate them. I hate them all. They don’t deserve a champion.
And then his mind shifted to his father. How proud he’d be. How he’d brag to his neighbors and anyone else who’d listen. How he had nothing else to live for.
The music started slowly. It was a sad Russian folk melody with an underlying strength like the people whose voices first gave it life. Though he told no one but his coach, he’d overextended himself in practice and had torn the tendon beneath his kneecap. As he stroked, the pain in his right leg was almost unbearable. With each jump, the hot knife dug deeper into his knee, but it kept him focused. He had no choice but to think only of each moment.
The crowd sensed something. He was not playing to them. He never did. He had dropped the extras. The trimming was gone. It was just the moves done to their fullest without fuss or excess. The beauty was in the simplicity. It was impossible not to admire the correctness of it all without the burden of unnecessary melodramatics. No one was surprised to see the performance rewarded with excellent marks.
“I don’t believe what we’re seeing here tonight. One incredible performance after another. I think everybody always knew Dimitri was capable of this. It was just a matter of whether or not he could ever put it together. He must feel very good,” said Brigitta, remembering her moment of triumph which seemed so long ago and suddenly feeling empty.
Dimitri stared one second more at the marks as his coach, who was seated beside him, gloated. They were slightly lower than Robby’s, but he knew he had guaranteed himself a medal.
“Now they’ll never let me go,” he said before heading backstage.
Glenn led Kylie by the hand as they walked toward the entrance tunnel. “Good luck,” she said softly.
“Don’t need it,” he answered. “I already won.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Philip said, pulling them apart just before their lips met. “Save the mush for later.”
Glenn shook out his legs one last time and blew into his fists.
“Hey, wait a minute. You can’t skate with that on,” Philip said, pointing to the soda tab around Glenn’s finger. It could catch on your costume.”
“It’s okay. Take it off,” Kylie offered.
“No way,” Glenn argued.
“Hang on,” she said as she dug into her purse and withdrew a safety pin. “Give it to me.”
He reluctantly handed her the silver ring which she secured to the inside of his costume just over his heart. They kissed.
“Glenn, come on! You’re up!” Philip shouted, yanking him toward the ice. As he passed clusters of officials and observers, Glenn spotted Brody. “We have to talk,” he said casually without stopping.
Brody smiled broadly.
“Yeah, baby!”
As he began his performance, Glenn should have been thinking about his technique.
If it’s not there after all these years, then screw it!
For once, he was going to skate without thinking. The energetic music began. His blades skidded along the surface of the ice like a master violinist’s fingers dancing across the strings of a fine instrument. Nothing mattered anymore. First or last place, Kylie would be there, which was more than he could say about Ralph Ratner. Suddenly, he became angry at the memory of all the fear he had endured at Ratner’s hands. He fed off of it. His jumps were higher than ever before. The landings crackled with their precision. He was ready to walk away from it all and he wanted everyone to know what they’d be losing.
In what seemed like a nanosecond, the performance was over and he knew it was the best of his career. It didn’t have the difficulty level of Robby’s and it didn’t matter. It was flawless. Finally.
He looked up to the sky and nodded a silent thank you. He knew he hadn’t skated alone. If it wasn’t enough to win, so be it. He’d said that before, but this time he really meant it. He had something and someone else to live for.
He sat under the hot TV lights with his coach who was beaming like a new father staring through the window of the maternity ward.
“You’ve made us all proud,” Forsythe whispered to his star pupil.
Glenn nodded, waving away a drink, but gratefully accepting a towel from one of the event gophers to wipe the well-earned perspiration dripping from his face.
Carol and Paige stood a few yards away, waiting for the numbers to come up, their arms intertwined as they were minutes earlier, only this time without Robby between them. The scores were posted one at a time in what felt like slow motion.
The British judge. 5.7
“Robby was higher,” Carol said, squeezing Paige tighter.
The Uzbekistan judge. 5.9
“Lower.”
The Canadian judge. 5.9
“Lower.”
Her grip started to weaken.
“It’s okay,” Paige said, holding her up.
The Japanese judge. 5.8
“Higher.”
The Ukrainian judge. 5.9
“Lower.”
The American judge. 5.9
When Carol saw the score, she felt like someone had exploded a firecracker inside her stomach.
“Lower. Damn it! We needed that one. That’s it. It’s over,” she said without meaning to do so aloud.
Paige closed her eyes and listened.
The Russian judge. 5.6
“Higher,” Carol whispered in disbelief.
The Swiss judge. 5.7
“Higher.”
“Yes!” Paige hissed.
The French judge. 5.8
“Higher!” Carol screamed.
“Yes! Yes! Yes! We did it!” Paige cried, grabbing Carol as they jumped up and down.
Willie Wasser stood beside Brody with his mouth open.
“Well, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle,” he said. “I never thought I’d live to see it. He won.”
“Who? Who?” Brody asked frantically as cheers resounded from all corners of the arena.
Wasser offered a big, gap-toothed grin. Brody took off for the locker room. Once inside, he found Robby changed into sneakers and sweats, quietly packing his bag.
“In case you didn’t notice, there’s a party goin’ on out there,” Brody said, shocked at the serenity emanating from Robby.
“Good. People should get their money’s worth.”
“Don’t you wanna know who won?”
“Nope,” Robby said without any pretense.
“Bull.”
“If I was interested, I’d be out there hanging off a TV monitor. I did what I had to do. The rest doesn’t matter.”
“Okay. Suit yourself. But I think you’re gonna have a little problem gettin’ out of the building. There’s a few hundred reporters who have some questions to ask, like how does it feel to be the new Olympic champion?”
Robby froze.
“No,” he insisted, afraid to hear more.
“Oh yeah,” Brody said, nodding.
They rushed to each other and hugged. Brody lifted Robby off the ground, then set him down again.
“You son-of-a-bitch! You pulled it off. You beat every one of them bastards. On and off the ice.”
“Yeah,” Robby admitted, still somewhat stunned. “Now it’s your turn.”
Robby was relieved that Carol was waiting right outside for him. He didn’t want to see anyw
ay else before her. They embraced. He could feel her body quaking. He stood back and looked at her accusingly.
“What?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Come on,” he urged.
Carol took a deep breath.
“You know I always tried my best. Even when I was wrong, I was doing it for you.” He smiled, not as a child, but as a proud, self-satisfied man.
“And just who do you think I went out there for?”
She touched her trembling hand to his cheek and disappeared down the hall. Robby turned to find Brigitta standing before him, as stunningly beautiful as she was that day in the hotel lobby. Somehow she made her way through the crush of bodies.
“Congratulations,” she said, absorbing him in her arms.
He wasn’t sure he could trust his feelings, but for once wasn’t afraid if they spilled out onto the carpet and up the walls. He wanted to say something, but they were interrupted by requests for autographs. They both obliged. By the time he looked up, she was gone.
“Hey,” Paige asked as she snuck up behind him, still beaming. “Can I have your autograph?”
“You can have a lot more than that,” he said, grabbing her in a bear hug and snuggling his face against her neck.
She dared not wonder if there was any more to it than his ebullience at having finally vanquished the demons. As he lifted his head, he rested his hands on her hips. She laid hers on his upper arms.
“Olympic champion,” she said.
Robby shook his head as people swirled around him, scurrying back and forth in preparation for the awards ceremony.
“What do I do now?” he asked.
“Enjoy it.”
“I don’t know how.”
“God, you’re such a jerk,” Paige said, sliding her arm around his waist.
He slipped his arm over her shoulder and pulled her close.
“Yeah, but you love me, so what does that make you?”
Her heart jumped at the mention of the word. For once, she didn’t feel defensive about it.
“Very happy,” she said.
A gathering of voices approached. He ignored them and gazed straight into her eyes. She searched his face for some sign; the look that would tell her what she had waited so long for. She had been wrong before. If it wasn’t there now, she told herself, it never would be.
“You got what you wanted. Is it enough?” she asked.
“No… but it’s pretty damn good.”
“What else do you need to be happy?”
He offered the warmest smile she’d ever seen. She buried her face in his chest as he drew her in. The halls were filled with people and still they felt totally alone,
completely vulnerable and yet safe in each other’s arms.
Encircled by admirers, Brigitta watched Robby and Paige from a short distance away. She immediately beat back the tears welling in her eyes. Despite everything they’d shared, it was Paige who was able to find the innermost part of him and get him to show it to the world. But she could wait. As she had once before. He owed her and she’d make sure to let him know it when the time was right. She cast that irresistible grin of hers at him. He hugged Paige even harder. Brigitta noted it, then lost herself in the crowd.
Robby reluctantly retreated and changed back into his costume. So many people jammed the off ice area that he couldn’t reach Dimitri and Glenn to shake their hands. There wasn’t even a moment to anticipate the feelings that would soon overwhelm him. His name had been announced.
Robby wanted to take in every second of the experience, but it was simply too big to comprehend. He hadn’t thought of the world watching as he performed, but now he felt every eye on him as he mounted the podium.
Dimitri joined him looking unusually serious, despite the fact that his entourage standing behind the barrier was ebullient.
Glenn followed. As he put one foot on the third place stand, Robby reached out his hand and pulled him up. There was no sadness in his eyes, just a weariness as he offered Robby genuine congratulations. He didn’t want the burden any longer. He was glad to rest in Robby’s shadow.
The ribbon brushed across Robby’s hair as he bowed his head. For a moment, the gold medal dangled from his neck catching rays of light, then quietly came to rest against his chest. He turned in a complete circle and waved. No thoughts entered his mind. He was numb and happy for it.
He always remembered the American anthem having a tinny sound as it wafted through countless arenas. This time, with the first drum roll, Robby felt a symphony in and around him. A tune he never really liked was an exceptionally lovely melody. Words he could barely remember were suddenly deep and strong.
Were the colors that headed for the sky always so vivid? he wondered.
Taking a victory lap, as he circled the ice and waved to the crowd, he knew he would pass the spot where he had landed the triple-triple combination. He hesitated and looked down, not to visit it like a monument to his achievement, but to check the distance between take off and landing for future reference. If he could do it so well once, he reasoned that he could do it perfectly every time. It was just a matter of knowing how and executing. He would most likely turn pro, but if any of those other skaters were expecting him to sit back on his laurels and ease up, they were about to learn a tough lesson. The challenges had only just begun.
Robby stepped off the ice and was quickly surrounded by the media hoard. He squinted into the camera lights.
“Welcome to the club,” Glenn said as he shook Robby’s hand.
Reporters scrambled to catch the exchange. Glenn waited to make sure they had, then pulled Robby close and whispered.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
“Robby,” a reporter said, blocking their path. “One quick question. Nobody gets to be an Olympic champion without help. Anyone you’d like to acknowledge?”
Glenn took a step back. This was Robby’s moment.
“Well,” he began slowly. “My coach Carol, of course, for believing in me when nobody else did, not just as a skater, but as a person. I don’t know if I’ve ever said it, but I feel the same way. My choreographer, Paige, for… more than I can say. And my mom and dad for hanging in.”
“How do they feel about your victory?”
“I don’t know. They’re not here. My dad’s sick. But hopefully they’re watching.”
“Do you have anything to say to them?”
“Yeah. Mom, I love you. Dad… get better quick. You have to finish building that cabinet or you’ll never hear the end of it. Even though you never told me, I know you were planning to leave room for one more medal.”
Robby and Glenn ignored the barrage of questions that followed them down the hall as they strode to the locker room, two champions side by side, and shut the door behind them. Glenn exhaled and let his shoulders drop.
“Man, you were really something,” he said. “Thank God it took you so long to get that good.”
Robby wanted to remind him that he’d always been that good.
“We’re wasting a good photo op,” he said instead.
Glenn smiled.
“Screw ‘em. This is just between us.”
Uh oh, Robby thought. Is this where I get the I’m still king of the hill speech? “The press’ll try to spin this situation into the stratosphere. Make it a personal battle between the two of us. It’ll give them something to promote at any future competition we both happen to be in as if the ball-bustingly hard stuff were doing out there Isn’t interesting enough. But I want you to know, it won’t be coming from me. I know the score. As of ten minutes ago, I expired. I’ve lived my shelf life. I’m not cute enough to be Dudley Moore and I’m not sexy enough to be Brad Pitt, so where do I fit in? I have nothing to market except the gold medal and the minute you won, I took my place in the hallowed halls of the skating museum with all the other dusty relics. A name on a page in a sports trivia book. But that’s okay, because it was one hell of a ride.”
G
lenn paused and looked around the room, for what, he didn’t know.
It’s amazing when you think about the difference between two little words— reigning and former. The king is dead. Long live the king.
Glenn held out his arms. As Robby embraced him, he felt the smaller man’s body relax, knowing it was his turn to bear the weight of the crown. Glenn pulled back.
“Come on. This is no way for a married man, and one who should be, to act.”
“What?”
“Yup. I finally did it.”
“Well, it’s about time.”
Glenn glanced at Robby’s medal.
“Ditto.”
“Hey,” Robby said. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“Never backing down. Out there, where it really counts.”
“You kidding? What choice did I have? I knew you never would. Come on. We’d better get going. We have a date with a test tube. “
All the competitors were escorted to the Doping Control room. Everyone watched the European competitors down glass after glass of beer without so much as staggering.
“Look at them delicate creatures knocking ‘em back,” observed Glenn.
Each skater was handed a pouch containing two vials. Robby waited for the attendant to leave as he entered the bathroom stall. He didn’t. Robby turned his head away as he filled the receptacles, trying to convince himself that if he didn’t look at the grim man standing over him, the same was true in reverse. His hands shook as he laughed at the sound of faucets running. After each vial was sealed and labeled, he left, happy the ordeal was over.
Outside the room, Alex dodged people of all shapes and sizes until he found the one he was looking for. Carol had just stepped out of the bathroom and was stuffing a crumpled tissue into her pocket. He cast his comfortable smile at her as he approached.
“Has he touched ground yet?” he asked.
“I doubt he’ll come in for a landing before the next century.”
“How about you?”
“I don’t know. I can’t picture my life without him.”
“I can. Maybe then there’ll be room for me.”
Carol wanted to pinch herself to make sure he was real and not just her most cherished fantasy come to life.
“After all I’ve put you through you still—”