The Legacy Page 4

  Chip and Michael were there for a few hours doing wind sprints and various other training exercises. At this stage, it was important to stay loose and not do anything that could potentially cause an injury.

  As they were finishing up their training session, Chip noticed some female hurdlers having their own training session on the other side of the track. He headed over to get a closer look and was pleased to see that it was the Canadian team. He picked out Robin right away, despite her having her long blonde hair pulled into a pony-tail. He waved at her, but he wasn’t sure she saw him.

  “Chip, it’s time to go,” Michael yelled from the other side of the field.

  Chip was hoping to be able to apologize for being late the previous day, but it didn’t look like he was going to get the chance. “Coming,” Chip yelled back.

  As they were gathering up their gear to get ready to leave, Chip suddenly became alarmed. “Hey, have you seen my security pass?” he asked Michael as he rifled through everything in the bag he had brought with him. “I’m sure I placed it in my bag before I did my wind sprints.” Chip was starting to panic as he knew how important it was. He dumped everything in his bag out on the grass in the infield of the track, but his ID wasn’t there.

  “Here it is, over here,” Michael yelled. Michael was sitting over near one of the benches taking off his track shoes. “It was just lying on the ground by the bench.”

  “How did it get over there?” Chip asked. “I wasn’t anywhere close to that bench.”

  Michael sensed the panic in Chip’s voice. “It’s okay,” he said. “Somebody probably just picked up your bag by mistake and it fell out when he carried it over to the bench. These bags all look the same.”

  Chip looked at the bags that were scattered around the infield and realized they all looked similar. “I suppose you’re right.”

  However, Chip was even more nervous than normal when his pass was scanned when he boarded the bus to take them back to the Olympic Village and relieved when he saw the green light flash.

  “You may proceed,” the security agent said.

  *** Chapter 8 ***

  It was about 10 a.m. the next morning when Chip and Michael boarded the shuttle bus that would take them from the athlete’s village to the Olympic stadium. It was only about a twenty minute drive and their race wasn’t for another three hours, but they both wanted to get there early. As they were going through security at the stadium, Chip’s badge once again set off the alarm.

  “Sir, please step over to the side,” the security agent said.

  “It’s probably just dirty,” Chip tried to explain. “I had trouble with it a couple of days ago and it worked again once they cleaned it off.”

  The security agent cleaned Chip’s security pass and scanned it again, but it still flashed red and sounded the alarm.

  “I’m competing today,” Chip pleaded. “I really need to get into the stadium.”

  “According to the error code from the scanner, it indicates that this ID has already been used to enter the stadium. Have you entered the facilities any time earlier today?”

  “No,” Chip said. “We’ve just arrived on the shuttle bus from the Olympic Village.”

  “Have you been in possession of your security pass the entire time?”

  Chip thought back to the incident the day before at the training facility when he had found his ID badge lying on the ground. When he told the security agent, the agent immediately stepped away and reported the incident to the rest of the security team over his walkie-talkie. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity and chatter.

  “I’m sorry sir, but you’re going to have to wait here with us until we sort out the situation,” the agent said.

  Chip looked over at Michael and Coach McDonald who were waiting and anxiously looking back at Chip. “You guys should probably go ahead. It looks like this could take a while.”

  To his surprise, both Michael and the coach started walking back toward him rather than heading into the stadium. “We’re all part of the same team,” Michael said to Chip. “We’re not going anywhere without you.”

  It was almost an hour later before the security agents let them into the stadium. There were numerous people who examined Chip’s security pass to make sure it wasn’t a forgery and both Michael and the coach had to confirm Chip’s identity. Chip was glad they had stayed behind because he wasn’t sure he would have been allowed into the stadium without their help. He was also glad that they had all decided to head to the stadium early, as the delay might have otherwise caused them to miss their event.

  * * *

  Brian and Eric sat in the huge Estádio Olímpico João Havelange along with 60,000 other patrons. They were oblivious to the ordeal that Chip was going through at security as they watched the events that were already underway in the stadium. They both had binoculars so they could focus in on particular events and Eric had purchased a small radio so he could listen to the broadcast of the events through his earbuds. But they were focused on only one event right now, the Olympic 10,000 metre event which would be starting shortly.

  Down on the track, Chip felt like his heart was going to burst right out of his chest. The anxiety of getting through security had now been replaced by the anxiety he felt knowing he was about to compete in his first Olympic event. He glanced at the twenty-eight other athletes competing in this event and wondered whether they were feeling any of the same emotions that he was. The Ethiopians looked completely calm, as if they were preparing for a summer stroll through the park. The Kenyans looked the same. The only one who looked as nervous as he did was the runner from Great Britain. He had won the gold medal at the London Olympics, gaining energy from the hometown crowd, and Chip could tell he felt the pressure to deliver one more time.

  “Remember, no one is going to live or die depending on how you do in this race,” Michael said to Chip as he shook his hand and pulled him in for a brief hug. He had obviously noticed the panic in Chip’s eyes.

  “Did you feel like this in your first Olympics?” Chip whispered to him.

  “Absolutely,” Michael said. “Just control the energy and use it to your advantage.”

  Chip took a deep breath and tried to tune out his surroundings and focus on controlling his breathing. He admired Michael for being so calm. He knew there was also immense pressure on Michael because these would be his last Olympics.

  Due to the size of the field, there would be two starting rows for the event. Runners in the forward row, which included Michael, were required to stay in the outside lanes for the first half-lap. Chip was in the second row of competitors and they started on the inside lanes.

  Up in the stands, Brian focused his binoculars on his son. Ironically, Chip stood beside the runner from Canada at the starting line and Brian couldn’t help wishing his son had the red maple leaf on his jersey as well.

  When the gun sounded the start of the race, Chip felt himself being jostled as the runners jockeyed for position. Since the race had twenty-five laps, Chip decided to hang back a bit at the start. The last thing he needed was to accidently get tripped and go down. When the two groups of runners merged, Chip found himself second last. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the runner from Great Britain behind him, as he always preferred to trail the field at the start. After the first five laps, Chip found himself in a nice rhythm and feeling quite comfortable.

  “The pace is extremely slow,” Eric said to his father up in the stands. He was listening to the broadcast of the race through his earbuds. “The broadcasters are saying they are running at a pedestrian pace which will favour the competitors with the best finishing kick.”

  “Well, Chip normally has a very strong finish,” Brian said hopefully. However, he was concerned that Chip was too far from the front. The thought had barely crossed his mind when the runner from Great Britain made a move from the back and Chip followed him, gradually moving up to the middle of the pack. The entire field was now bunched again.

  Over
the next few laps, the sequence repeated itself. One of the runners would attempt to separate himself from the field, but would eventually fall back to the pack. First, it was one of the Ethiopians, then it was one of the Kenyans.

  “The announcers are now saying they think the race will come down to the final 1,500 metres,” Eric said to his father.

  Suddenly there was a roar from the crowd as the Brazilian runner took over the lead and was trying to pull away from the field, spurred on by the cheering hometown crowd. The Ethiopians and two of the Kenyans quickly followed suit and Michael joined the breakaway group. Chip debated whether to go with them, but decided to stay just off the left shoulder of the British runner on the inside lane.

  With the Brazilian leading the race, the crowd was now roaring and Eric couldn’t hear anything through his earbuds, so he took them off and put them in his pocket.

  With about two and a half laps remaining, the British runner decided to make a push and reel back the front-runners who were now about ten metres ahead of the main pack. Chip tried to go with him but found himself boxed in. Several other runners were now making a push as well so there was hardly any room to maneuver. By the time Chip could free himself from the pack, he was over a dozen metres behind the leader. He was now into a full-scale sprint and was gaining ground on the lead group, but he had fallen too far behind to make up the gap.

  Up ahead, Michael found himself near the front with the Brazilian, the Kenyan and the two Ethiopian runners. As they entered the bell lap, the Brazilian was starting to weave from side to side as he was clearly out of gas. Michael still had lots of energy, but did he have the speed? The answer became apparent quickly as the other three runners pulled away from him down the stretch. To make it even worse, the British runner also overtook Michael in the last few steps before the finish line.

  The results displayed on the huge screen in the stadium. Michael had finished fifth and Chip had finished ninth. Up in the stands, Eric and Brian were ecstatic with how well Chip had done. Chip had recorded his personal best time and had beaten several runners who had been ranked higher than him in the world rankings. But down on the track, Chip was disappointed in his performance. Actually, he could hardly control his anger. He had blown his chance at a medal by letting himself get boxed in. If he had been part of that lead group, he knew he could have matched them stride for stride down to the finish line.

  Chip was congratulating the other runners when he saw Michael standing by himself with his head down. “Great race,” Chip said, throwing his arm around Michael’s shoulder.

  Michael looked utterly dejected. “I was right there, but I just don’t have the speed to finish anymore. I think I’m done. It’s over.”

  “We’ve still got the 5,000 metre event,” Chip said, but his words were falling on deaf ears.

  *** Chapter 9 ***

  That evening Maria headed back to the Copacabana to work at the bar. As she walked by the pool area, she saw the Girard family she had served at breakfast.

  “Daddy, Daddy, come watch how well I can swim,” the little girl yelled.

  Mr. Girard was holding his young son in his arms so he passed his son to his wife, gave her a kiss and headed off to play with his daughter. “Okay, let’s race to the other side of the pool,” he said. The little girl swam as hard as she could with her father half a stride behind.

  “Beat you,” she giggled when she touched the other side.

  “Yes you did,” her father said. “You’re probably fast enough to be in the Olympics.”

  Maria stared longingly at the happy family and wished her childhood had been so carefree. She hoped to meet a rich man someday and have a family of her own. Actually, he didn’t have to be rich, just rich enough so she didn’t have to live in the favela with her mother.

  Maria headed into the bar and said hello to Eduardo, the bartender. “You’re looking especially lovely tonight,” Eduardo said. She knew Eduardo had a crush on her. He had always treated her well and she liked him well enough, but she was looking for more than he could offer.

  “It looks like it’s going to be a busy night,” Maria said as she saw more and more tourists heading into the bar after their day watching the Olympics. As the night wore on, Maria received more than her fair share of tips. She also received numerous marriage proposals, with the frequency increasing the more the patrons drank.

  When she was serving drinks to a large group of men, she flinched when she felt one of the men slide his hand under her dress and grab her ass. One of the other men at the table intervened on her behalf.

  “Hey Dieter,” the man said to his friend. “I don’t think she needs a hand serving drinks.”

  “It’s okay, I got this,” Maria said as she calmly took the man’s hand off of her ass. Dieter fell to his knees on the floor in pain as she calmly bent one of his fingers back, almost to the point of breaking it. “Now Dieter, I’m only going to warn you once. If I feel your hand on my ass again, you’ll never be able to use this hand again. Got it?”

  “Got it,” Dieter gasped as she released his finger.

  “I’m sorry for my friend’s behavior,” the stranger said. “But it probably wouldn’t have happened if you hid those out of sight,” he said glancing downward at her breasts. Maria had more than a few buttons undone on her dress. Showing a little, or a lot of cleavage certainly helped getting tips.

  “Thanks for your concern,” Maria said sternly, “but I don’t tell you how to make a living so you have no right to tell me how I should make mine.” They glared at each other for what seemed like an eternity, until he finally backed down.

  As Maria was leaving the hotel bar after work that night, she stopped in her tracks when she saw the same man waiting for her just outside the hotel. He approached when he saw her.

  “I’d just like to apologize again for my friend’s behavior this evening,” he said, “and also for my comments about how you dress. I shouldn’t have judged you so quickly.”

  “Apology accepted,” Maria said, but she was still keeping her distance from him trying to assess the situation.

  “I’m Greg,” he said. “Greg Schneider.” He extended his arm to shake her hand.

  “I’m Maria,” she answered, still keeping her distance. She didn’t give her last name.

  “I’m from Germany,” Greg said. “We’re part of a large group that came over to see the Olympics. I guess we had a little too much to drink tonight.”

  Maria didn’t respond. She was starting to warm up a bit to this stranger, but was still a little guarded.

  “It’s pretty late for you to be out walking alone,” Greg said, “and I hear some of the neighbourhoods around here can be a bit dangerous. Can I walk you home to make sure you get there safe and sound?”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” Maria said. “I walk home by myself all the time. I’m probably safer walking through some of these parts than you are. But thank you for your concern.”

  “We don’t get to see much of the city,” Greg said, trying to keep the conversation going. “Our tour bus just takes us directly from the hotel to the Olympic venues and then straight back to the hotel.”

  “Well, if you’re interested, I know the hotel offers tours of the city and a little bit of the outlying countryside.”

  “I might take one of those tours,” Greg said. “Any chance you could join me and be my tour guide?”

  “Oh, that’s not necessary,” Maria said. “The tours offered by the hotel come with their own tour guide. They include a fancy lunch and dinner. They’re pretty expensive.”

  “It will be my treat,” Greg said.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” Maria said. She had been offered many such trips by men before and didn’t want to feel obligated to them in any fashion. “But thank you anyway.” She could see the disappointment on Greg’s face immediately. “I should be heading home, or my mother will be worried.” She was lying as she knew her mother wouldn’t be worried at all, but Greg didn’t know that.


  “Well then, I shouldn’t keep you any longer. Perhaps we’ll run into each other again before I leave your beautiful country.”

  “Perhaps,” Maria said as she turned and headed down the deserted street. As Maria walked through the favela on her way home, she found herself fantasizing about going on the tour with Greg. When she got home, her mother wasn’t there. She rarely was. Maria placed the money that she had earned that night on the table. As she crawled into bed, she found herself dreaming about the life she wanted.

  * * *

  Brian and Eric stood about three rows back along the fourteenth fairway as the top American golfer went by. They could only get glimpses of him as they peered between the heads of the fans in front of them. Golf was back in the Olympics again and Brian was glad to see it.

  “Did you know that Canada is the defending Olympic champion in golf?” Brian asked Eric.

  “You’re kidding,” Eric said. “I just assumed it would be someone from the United States.”

  “Nope, George Lyon won the gold medal for Canada back in 1904, the last time golf was an Olympic event.”

  “Never heard of him,” Eric said.

  “Neither had I until I was reading about it. Back then it was a match-play event and he beat an American in the finals. This time it’s a stroke-play event.”

  The American golfer was heavily favoured to add an Olympic gold medal to his already impressive list of wins. After he hit his shot, the massive crowd moved forward to follow him, allowing Brian and Eric to move up to the ropes alongside the fairway. One of the Canadian golfers was in the next group and he didn’t have near the same following as the American golfers. As the next group approached, Brian and Eric noticed more and more red shirts and Canadian maple leaf pins. There were also quite a few fans wearing green and white, the colours of the Saskatchewan Roughriders.