Whirlwind 01 - Finish Line - Pt. 01

Everyone stared at her. "Wealthy, did ya say?" Cassie asked hesitantly.

Lavender nodded and looked at Ariana's shocked expression. "Ya didna google yer teammate, then? He didna drop any hints in any conversation? Act like money didna matter?" Ariana shook her head slowly, eyes wide. Suddenly a number of small inconsistencies she hadn't thought to question made sense.

Marie watched the expression on Ariana's face change and took a wild guess. "Did ya kiss him?" she asked.

"Onla once," Ariana replied, her attention drifting off again to who knew where.

"Ah. Did he kiss ya, or did ya kiss him," Lavender pressed.

"Yes," Ariana responded, absently.

"Ah, tha would explain it then," Cassie observed in the suddenly apprehensive tones of someone who has just found out that they might be talking to a sleepwalker on a high wire halfway across Niagara Falls.

"I will really miss tha foot rubs," Ariana said sadly, turning and walking out of the baggage claim area.

They watched her walk off resolutely in the general direction of the parking garage, and then turned to see Marie looking intently at something in her hands.

"And wha might tha be?" Lavender asked.

Marie looked up. "Tis tha book I gave Ariana ta read when she was leavin. Twas stickin out o' her pack."

"What is so interestin about tha?" Lavender asked.

Marie eyed her. "Look at tha bookmark. Does anyone know any time Ariana has only ever read SEVEN PAGES o' a book by her favorite author in more than three weeks?"

The four turned and looked after their distracted friend as the automatic doors whooshed open for her.

CHAPTER 3 [First Leg (Washington DC to Hawaii) -- Eleven teams start]

The final curtain call was over, and the troupe needed to get back onto the busses for the overnight journey to the next venue on the tour, but they were allowed a break. The fifty-two of them were gathered in a rehearsal room in the back of the theater where a huge screen TV was set up. Everyone helped themselves to snacks and drinks on a table in the back, and then claimed a seat. Ariana didn't feel all that hungry, taking only tea and loading it with sugar. She found a chair in the back corner and sat down, trying to be inconspicuous. Ian, the music director's assistant who had set up the viewing, smirked at her, but fended off everyone's questions as to what the race results had been. Marie dragged a chair over next to hers and sat down. "So, kin ya tell me now, at least, how tonight's episode went?"

Ariana, preoccupied with other thoughts, shook her head slightly and said, in a distracted voice, "Ya will no forgive me if I spoil it."

Before Marie could come up with a suitable rejoinder, the lights dimmed and the screen brightened. Ariana paid little attention, as the first images triggered a cascade of memories... .

They had solved the puzzle first, raced to Reagan airport, taken a flight, along with everyone else, to Denver, Colorado. She had sung a John Denver song from memory at his memorial garden, been judged satisfactory by one of Denver's grown children, and then had raced back to the airport. A quick flight to San Francisco found them re-enacting a Nike missile launch at a Cold War air defense missile installation in Golden Gate National Recreation Area, which was now a Cold War Memorial. Then a long flight to Hawaii. Leslie back at the National Geographic Store had casually remarked to her that the Fantastic Race was as much about fighting fatigue and jet lag as it was about solving puzzles, performing tasks, overcoming obstacles, and avoiding getting lost -- and given her a wink and slid extra energy bars in her pack. The flight over the Pacific had been rough and the plane had gyrated wildly, driving her crazy. Nathan had calmed her down by getting her to teach him some Gaelic, and distracted her by repeatedly grumbling that he had flown all the way to Washington D.C. only to be flying right back home again.

In Hawaii, Nathan had handily passed a surfing challenge judged by Bethany Hamilton to complete the 'Water' phase. She had crawled down into a cave to retrieve a small statue to complete the 'Earth' phase. They had both done fire-walking to complete the 'Fire' phase. And they had been in third place when they had gotten to the final obstacle before the pit stop - the 'Air' challenge.

There had been a huge chasm, kilometers long, stretching from the sheer coastal cliffs to far back in the jungle, with near vertical walls -- like a wedge cut out of a huge, forest-covered, cheese. It had been at least a half kilometer wide and over a hundred meters deep. Three sets of cables were strung from side to side. Each set consisted of three cables, one above the other, about a meter apart. They had been strapped securely into safety harnesses, chained together so that if one member fell, both would. A safety chain connected the middle of the chain between them to the highest cable. If they wound up dangling high above the jungle. the upper cable would be lowered until they got to the jungle below, whereupon they would have to unhook themselves, make their way to the base of the starting cliff and climb up to try again. As the support staff were checking the buckles on their harnesses, they could see the first place team being lowered to the valley floor and the second place team was just edging out over the cliff face.

"I dinna like tha look o tha," she had muttered.

Nathan had grunted agreement. They had had to wait when a technician found a problem with her harness and had to get a replacement, and the second team had managed to make it to midpoint by the time they were ready to start. As they were climbing onto the lower wire, a powerful gust of wind rocketed down the valley, set the cables to humming, and blew the second team out into space like ants off a string. They stared as the winch chuffed into motion and slowly lowered the team to the ground. After several minutes the wind died off just as suddenly as it had sprung up.

"Are ya sure we shouldna be gettin parachutes fer this little trip?" she had asked the technician. Then she had turned to Nathan and said, with a look more grimace than grin, "Ya gae first."

Without a word he had climbed up to stand on the lower cable, and reached down to give her a hand up. Their safety helmets had built-in cameras and their padded vests made them feel heavy and awkward. They quickly adopted the inchworm method, sliding the leading boot sideways about a foot, then pulling the trailing boot up a foot. They stayed about three feet apart and inched along slowly but steadily. By midspan, despite their high-tech footgear, her feet had been aching, and she was hoping it would soon be over. Then the wind struck.

It came suddenly, and violently, and had spun her off the cable like a spider in a hurricane. A scream had exploded out of her as her world became a whirl of sky and jungle. She was caught with a jerk and she had looked around wildly, seeing Nathan still hanging grimly on to the cables. He had twisted his arms around the middle cable and had tilted his feet against the wind on the lower cable. She spun there, below and behind him like a steel kite, buffeted in the gusts, for what seemed like hours. Then it was gone and she was swinging slowly over the valley, ready to scream but her chest too tight to draw sufficient breath. Than Nathan took his left hand off the middle cable, bent down, grabbed the safety chain, and pulled her up a foot. He reached across his body with his right hand, held the chain and pulled her up another foot with his left.

"What are ya doing?!" she managed to gasp.

Her answer was another foot of lift. One more lift and she was able to grip his hand and get pulled up onto the cable. She had clung there, trembling. In a minute she could draw a deep shuddering breath, feeling the cable sway slowly beneath her, and managed to gasp out. "Get me don from here, noo!"

Nathan's voice had been perfectly calm, pitched low and reassuring, and infuriating in its reasonableness. "You are the team leader, and if you want to get down, we'll jump off together."

"I don want ta dangle like that agin! I don!"

"There are only two ways down, Ariana; we can go back along the cable, or we can jump off. And we are halfway across, it's just as far to go back as it is to finish up." He had paused, leaned down close to her ear and said, contritely, "I am sorry. I will not let you fall again, ever, I promise."

She had taken several breaths, bit back a sharp retort, and managed to nod.

"Then let's go."

Inch by inch they moved along the cable. After another hundred meters of painful progress, Nathan said, quietly, "Don't move." She had frozen, wondering what was coming. Nathan had moved next to her, and then stepped around her, with one leg and one arm on each side of her, his body directly behind hers. "Hang on." The wind had struck a moment later, roaring and whistling through the cables, pounding on them, buffeting them as it swirled wildly around them. She gritted her teeth to keep from screaming, certain that she could hear the sinews in Nathan's limbs creaking as he fought the wind, sure at any moment that they would be blown off again to plunge toward the ground. But after a short eternity, the wind dropped off and the cable swayed but at least they were secure. Carefully Nathan stepped around her into the lead again and said, "Let's go."

"How did ya know when tha wind was comin?"

"The prevailing ocean winds must blow straight across the mouth of the valley. Random gusts hit the mouth just right and then it's like blowing across the top of a beer bottle, and it just races down the valley for a few minutes til the direction changes just enough to cut it off. You can tell it's coming by looking at the jungle down the valley - the tops of the trees start lashing around when the wind front is coming up the valley. If you're expecting it, all you have to do is hang on and wait it out." He had glanced at her and smiled with a certainty which was reassuring a hundred meters above rugged jungle, and said, "I promised I wouldn't let you fall again."

"I am still a mite nervous, ya ken."

"How about we sing a song as we glide along?"

She glanced at his grin and managed to grin back, remembering his excruciating karaoke attempt at dinner the first night. "Aye, that'll make me want to get off here quickly - yer singing. Good strategy. Ya are tha most unmusical music lover I ever did meet."

They continued inching along, having to stop twice more for wind breaks, the last only fifty meters from the end. Finally they had jumped down onto the platform and been unhitched from their harnesses and jogged on shaky legs the hundred meters to the base of a tourist observation tower. Tom and an American marine in jungle camouflage fatigues were waiting at the Pit Stop.

"Ariana and Nathan, congratulations, you are Team Number One!" They had both given an exhausted cheer, and then he had continued. "As the winners of the first leg of the Fantastic Race, you win an extra $25,000 for your charity and this EXPRESS pass, allowing you to bypass one obstacle of a future leg."

They had gotten a golf cart ride down a trail to the seaside cliffs. The wire bridge had seemed to be out in the middle of nowhere, but only a few hundred meters down the trail was a golf course, and then row after row of obviously military housing. Their destination was a huge World War II bunker built into the cliff which was now a youth hostel and fitness center.

They found the cafeteria, went down the sandwich buffet since the hot line wasn't open, and sat on a couch in the TV lounge to eat and wait for the rest of the teams to make it.

"The boots ya got me are very comfortable to travel in or run in, but me feet are nigh throbbing from that cable."

Nathan had hesitated and then said, uncertainly, "Do you trust me?"

She had looked at his concern and read the hesitancy in his voice; and she remembered his very sincere promise made high above a jungle just a couple of kilometers away. "Aye. I trust ya."

He nodded. "Then let me see your feet."

She had stared at him for a second and then turned sideways on the couch and dropped both her boot-clad feet on his lap. He had unlaced her boots, slid them gently off her feet, peeled off the microfiber, abrasion resistant socks and then started to massage her feet. The protest had died in her throat and she had felt the pains ease immediately.

"My wife was in real estate and came home with aching feet more often than not, so I took foot massage lessons, and gave her feet some Tender Loving Care while we were sitting watching TV before bed."

She had raised her eyebrow and said something, the memory of which had made her cringe, "I didna know ya were married. What does yer wife think, then, of yer gallivanting round tha world fer three weeks with another woman?"

He hadn't met her eye as he responded in a carefully casual tone, "Carolyn passed away about three years ago in a traffic accident." He had shrugged, seemingly focusing his attention on a commercial for a bizarre Japanese game show on the TV, and said, "So I'm long out of practice. Hopefully this and some ibuprofen will make your feet feel better for the race start tomorrow."

She had felt terrible and wanted to apologize for her remark, but had noticed that one of the Race videographers was recording them from across the room. She almost pulled her feet back, but the massage had just felt so good, that she decided not to make a fuss. Besides, with all the action in this leg, the chances of a segment of an off-Race foot massage being aired were probably nil... .

"Did he really rub yer feet after all tha, then?"

Ariana shook herself, surfacing from her deep reverie. Cassie was looking at her with wide eyes and a broad smile. She realized that the room was full of cheers, most along the lines of "Team Madri-Gal, Team Number One!" The music director was moving through the hubbub of the troupe, trying to get everyone onto the tour busses for their overnight trip to the next venue.

As she stretched and went along, Marie moved in beside her and remarked quietly. "Tha was quite a promise. I wish I hae fans tha dedicated." Ariana had refrained from glaring at her and made a noncommittal noise even as she felt her cheeks redden. The five of them climbed onto their personal tour bus, took quick turns in the tiny bathroom as the bus rumbled into motion and accelerated onto the Interstate. Ariana got a 'congratulations' from everyone, and a penetratingly speculative look from Marie, before managing to retreat to her privacy bunk.

The privacy bunks were marvels of compact efficiency. The mattresses were luxuriously comfortable, there was ample room to sit up, cross-legged, and an arsenal of amenities ... television, Bose sound system, mirror, dimmable lights, an intercom connecting the bunks and lounge, and a tiny mini-fridge which held several bottles of her favorite Snapple Lemon Tea. The bunk cubby was screened off by a thick corrugated curtain which moved back and forth at the touch of a button, and an outer door which rolled up and down like a garage door, also at the touch of a button.

Once the privacy curtain was soundly clipped into place, she folded down the laptop-size keyboard and logged on to the Internet, looking for her e-mail. There in her Inbox was a message from Nathan. This was the first time he had tried to contact her since the end of the race, except for short, efficient weekly forum updates. It was dated today, sent one minute after the first episode finished airing. She stared at it for nearly a minute, then checked off the box next to it, and tried to delete it ... and tried ... and ... . She couldn't bring herself to delete it. Finally she opened it.

Ariana,

I hope this finds you well and enjoying the weather in Amarillo. The reviews of the Jacksonville performances were spectacular and your interview on the local morning show looked great. I have linked all of these to the fan forum site.

Five fan forum members in Denver have gotten Meet-n-Greet tickets for Friday night. I know you said that the cast draws straws to see who will be at the M&G, and you can never guarantee you will be at one, but they have seats D8 to D12, and if you could give them a wave, they would be thrilled.

I have three new web contracts and a subcontract to automate an inventory system; nothing challenging, but steady work.

I have attached an installment of a book I propose to write. This is the story of the first leg of the race from my viewpoint. You have infinite editorial powers - anything you want me to delete, add, or change, I will. The greatest thing would be for you to write a complementary chapter on the first leg from your point of view. If we do this for each leg we were in, we could put together a short book. I have a title in mind. If you approve publishing, all proceeds will go to your charity. The forum has about 15000 members now, so we could probably sell at least that many copies. Please consider.

Sincerely,

Nathan

Ariana read the words several times, studying them as intently as a musical score she had to audition on short notice. It was light, conversational without being wordy, personal without trying to be intimate. She wondered what he had been feeling when he wrote this. She shook herself. Whatever Nathan's feelings, however misguided, she had her own feelings and her image to protect.

Ariana took out her phone and texted her agent; who was a notorious night owl and was most likely still wide awake. "R U up?"

The phone beeped in just under a minute: "Of course. Congrats on first place for the first leg. I'm trying not to take it TOO personally that I can't even know how you did, I am your agent and your friend, after all."

"An ya should noo ALL about contracts an penalty clauses - no hints. But I do need ya ta do something fer me with tha Fantastic Race producers."

"What might that be?"

Ariana hesitated. She was going to have to phrase this carefully. "I would like ta hae approval over any parts o tha final episode involvin myself."

The voice was instantly doubtful. "You signed the waiver on the contract. They have rights to any images and recordings made from the start of the initial briefing to the final release briefing after the finish. They didn't let any of the other celebs have any say in their editing that I heard about; if they make an exception for you, they open themselves up to everyone else wanting approval of the editing."

Ariana agonized for several moments which seemed like years. Finally she started to say, "I kissed ...", but thought better of it, tried again. "Nathan kissed ..." Her conscience was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder and tapping its foot. She surrendered. "Nathan and I kissed, near tha end of tha race, an I am thinkin one of the camera crews may hae caught it."

"Why do you want editing privileges over that? It'll be great publicity. The fans will all go nuts."

She forced herself to say, calmly and reasonably, "Not tha. Wha happened after."

"And?"

Ariana said resolutely, "I want ta make certain they will no be broadcastin me slappin Nathan after the kiss."

[German soccer player and her husband last team in and eliminated]