Whirlwind 01 - Finish Line - Pt. 03

PROLOG

This is the third part (of five) of the first story in my WHIRLWIND series. The WHIRLWIND series are unrelated stories (6 so far) with a common theme; each one is based on a short, slightly unusual courtship, with a primary female character who believes that she cannot find love for some reason -- and a primary male character determined to prove her wrong.

I visited Ireland once, for 13 marvelous days, and was enchanted by the lilting Irish speech. I have attempted to reproduce that in the dialogue of the Irish characters. WORD's Spelling and Grammar Checker hated it. I hope the reader doesn't find it too tedious. If so, please note that in the comments and I will use less of it in the remainder of the story. So far there haven't been too many complaints.

In previous writings, I don't think I handled 'flashbacks' well, so I wrote this one which has a number of flashbacks as its core. Be warned. There is also no sex.

I can tolerate few 'Reality' Shows. The AMAZING RACE is a notable exception. There are a dozen different spinoffs of the AMAZING RACE, each featuring contestants from a different country (i.e., Fantastic Race Canada, Fantastic Race Australia, etc., though the original AMAZING RACE is out of America with American citizens as contestants). This story hypothesizes the FANTASTIC RACE with international teams and slightly different rules.

FINISH LINE Part 3

Major Characters:

Lead Singers of the Celtic/Irish singing group 'The Madri-Gals':

Ariana Collins

Marie Kavanaugh

Linnae Jameson

Lavender Renaud

Cassie O'Hara

President and Web Administrator of the Ariana Collins Fan Forum:

Nathan Moore

The Teams for FANTASTIC RACE

(1) German national soccer champion and her husband

(2) Canadian hockey player and his wife

(3) French singer and her son

(4) Japanese pop star and her sister

(5) Captain of New Zealand rugby team and a young man (fan)

(6) American basketball star and young man (fan w/ Down's Syndrome)

(7) Gold medal Chinese gymnast and her brother

(8) Italian Gran Prix driver and his mistress

(9) Russian ballerina and her daughter

(10) American rock star and young man (fan)

(11) Ariana (Irish) and Nathan (fan)(American)

Nathan and Ariana continue their string of first place finishes. The race continues in Ariana's memory in flashbacks, though present-day Nathan appears near the end. One more leg to go:

CHAPTER 10 [Eighth Leg (Singapore to Kazkhstan) -- six teams remaining]

She had managed to avoid being in the center front for the playback of the episode, and perched in the back, nursing some ginger beer and trying to think of anything BUT the Fantastic Race -- and failing miserably...

The flight to Kazakhstan had been nerve-wracking. Images of being shot down by terrorists, dropped off in a muddy field dotted with yurts, and having her hair fall out due to exposure from the decades of Soviet nuclear weapons testing the poor nation had to endure in ignorance, plagued her, though Nathan seemed frustratingly unconcerned.

The airport at Astana, the new capital, had been quite modern, and had a brash, new feeling about it, like a room with paint just dry enough to touch.

The city had a vibrant, rowdy, uncontrolled feel to it, and their task was to go collect puzzle pieces with only a word or short phrase for directions - "Banana" turned out to be a bright yellow office tower; "Seven Barrels" turned out to be a cluster of apartment towers; "Cigarette Lighter" turned out to be the Ministry of Transport and Communications. The assembled puzzle had sent them to the Baiterek, A more than 300-foot high tower on the central promenade which resembled a huge golden egg nestled in the topmost branches of a poplar tree.

Here was where her luck had fueled Garrett's resentment almost to the point of combustion.

In the center of the observation deck, towering above the city, was a solid granite table. In the center of the table was a huge wedge of pure gold, with the imprint of the first president's hand in its center. Placing one's hand in the imprint would randomly trigger the playing of the Kazakh national anthem. The guide assured them it was totally random - sometimes it would play three tries in a row, and sometimes not for a half hour or more. A member of each team would try their luck on the imprint, and if the anthem played, they would get their next clue; if not, they would have to go to the end of the line of hopeful citizens and tourists and anxiously await their next turn.

Garrett and Jeremy had gotten there first by dint of insane driving, but the anthem had refused to play for them. Two other teams had been backed up waiting their turn to evoke the stately but ponderous notes.

Ariana had gotten in line, Garrett had glared at her, and Nathan had stood patiently beside her, keeping himself between them as much as possible. Garrett's next attempt was a failure, and he kicked the granite table and stomped to the end of the line, not bothering to hide his frustration, either verbally or non-verbally.

Ariana placed her hand carefully in the massive handprint, feeling the warm, slick metal enfold her fingers, and... the anthem had played. All the Kazakhs had faced the flag on the wall and bowed, and a beaming guide had handed her the next clue.

"$#@^ &*$%# *&!@#@! How much did you have to pay to do that?! Or did you just screw one of the guides!" Nathan's smile had gone stone-faced, and he took an involuntary step toward Garrett. Ariana, as a completely unconscious reflex, had put her hand across Nathan's chest, and he stopped instantly, though she could feel the anger practically boiling out of his pores. Avoiding looking at anyone, especially Garrett, as Nathan escorted her to the elevator, she was wondering how many understood English, and hoping that the network censors were strict.

Her luck catapulted them from fourth to first place, and they had completed the next four tasks -- Earth, Air, Fire and Water -- with almost inhuman quickness, arriving at the Pit Stop, the Presidential Palace, and been greeted by Tom and the president of Kazakhstan himself, and proclaimed...

The lack of sound grasped her attention more than anything. Her reverie had been interrupted by Tom's familiar voice exhorting viewers to stay tuned for scenes from the next show, and she glanced up to see she was the absolute center of awestruck attention.

"Now tha would be eight o eight times, would it no?" Marie had asked, sardonically.

She felt somehow wounded by the remark, nodded quickly and left the room to astounded silence.

The quiet on the bus was irksome, as three of her co-stars had kept flashing her astonished looks, like she was going to vanish into a phone booth and re-appear wearing a cape, and then fly off through the bus roof. Marie just kept looking at her thoughtfully, which, somehow, was worse. After watching some meaningless local news program on the telly, she had said goodnight and retreated to her bunk. As she lay in the dimness, staring at the glowing stars and planets she had adorned the ceiling of her bunk with two years ago on a whim, she remembered how that day in Kazakhstan had ended...

Once they had gotten off the mat, nature's demands seemed quite urgent, and Zoe had pointed out the rest rooms. Just outside the door to the woman's room, she had said, "Ya know tha sooner or later our luck will run oot."

A quirky, puzzled smile twitched the corners of his mouth as he said, "Luck?"

"Me singing songs an sippin tea, an you surfin and kayakin. Sooner or later we are gonna run inta somethin neither o us do well."

"Do you normally spelunk in lava caves?"

"No."

"Launch 1960s vintage, nuclear-tipped interceptor missiles?"

"No."

"Plant rice in a paddy?"

"No."

"Dance in a human videogame?"

"We hae no don tha!"

The quirky smile morphed into a cheeky grin. "No, but if that is the next task, we'll do the best we can, no matter what. If we are eliminated doing our best, there is no shame in that."

"Alright." She attempted to glower at him, but couldn't quite manage it. "Ya know yer unfailin optimism can be quite annoyin." She had not quite shut the door when Nathan's voice stopped her. She looked up.

"Oh, by the way; if it is luck, we should make the most of it as long as it lasts." He grinned roguishly, "See you in a few minutes."

[Chinese gymnast and her brother were the last team to arrive and were eliminated]

CHAPTER 11 [Ninth Leg (Kazakhstan to Jerusalem) -- Five teams remaining]

The impromptu television room below the stage had a 72-inch LCD television at one end, a massive buffet along one wall, fifty-one chairs in the center and one stool in the back. Daniel, the Director, fearing too much rowdiness, had made sure that the refreshments were light on alcohol. As Ian had escorted her to her preferred perch at the back of the room, he said, "Ya know, Jimmy is giving ten to one odds in favor o ye actually winning the race. Would ya care ta place any bets wit him?"

She had looked at his grinning face sourly and shot back primly, "Ian, ya noo I never place bets on anything; be off wit ye noo."

"Canna blame a mon fer tryin."

All of the remaining teams were on the same flight. And the flight from Kazakhstan to Israel was going to be long, and, in utter exhaustion, she was asleep within minutes of takeoff. Somewhere over the middle Asia she had roused into a drowsing state, vaguely luxuriating in the warm, safe, contented feeling. How long she had hovered there it was impossible to say, but when she realized her head was resting on Nathan's shoulder, and his cheek was pressed into her hair, her eyes had flown open. His hands were folded on his lap, he wasn't obviously reading or watching the screen on the back of the seat in front of them, and his slow, measured breaths assured her that he was deeply asleep. She wondered for several minutes if she could move without waking him. This debate evolved quickly into thinking about him.

For almost three years, Nathan had been a nearly faceless cyber-acquaintance who had always been enthusiastic, cheerful, and supportive, and always had sensible, intelligent, and constructive suggestions or advice whenever she had asked anything. While he had never been a confidant, and she had never shared or discussed anything very personal with him, he had always, always respected her privacy, asked her permission for passing anything along to the fan forum, and never put out anything she asked him not to.

Thinking about it, over the years she had trusted him with her personal e-mail address, her personal cell phone number, and even the address of what she tended to think of as her high security apartment hideout in Dublin - and he had never abused her confidence or questioned why he couldn't put her name on the labels of the packages he had forwarded to her.

She had just never thought of him as an actual physical shoulder to nap on.

Moving her eyes, she hadn't seen any of the videography teams documenting the trip; they were probably all asleep too. She glanced at her watch, confirming there were still hours left on the flight. Deciding she was still tired, and quite comfortable, she leaned a fraction closer, put her hand on his arm, and fell quickly back to sleep, lulled by the soporific drone of the engines.

By the time they had gotten to Jerusalem, it was the wee hours of the morning. They were going to spend the day helping pilgrims at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher, Al-Aqsa Mosque, and the Wailing Wall. At each one, successful completion of their task would get them part of the clue for the four tasks ahead. They all arrived at the Church of the Holy Sepulcher four hours before it opened. The teams spread out -- not too far from the gate, but enough for privacy -- and rested fitfully. Ariana noticed that the videography teams also dropped off to sleep; the rest on the airplane being none to restful for anybody.

Feeling less under a microscope, and not being too tired, she had looked at Nathan and said, "I actually don't know tha much aboot ye."

"Ah, don ya now?" he responded, teasing her with a halfway decent imitation of an Irish accent. "Mine tis no a long nor interestin story."

"Try me."

He sighed theatrically. "If the Lady insists." He made a show of giving his response carefully considered thought, as well as discreetly inspecting the slumbering racers not too far away. He pitched his voice low and replied. "Well, I was born in Hawaii to non-native parents, so I always felt a little isolated. My father was an environmental construction engineer who did a lot of contracting to the military, and my mother was a linguist at an Asian trading company. I learned how to manage a complex project on the fly from my dad, and mom managed to teach me four of the nine languages she knew. I was an electronics and computer geek from the time I saw my first television show." He heaved another deep sigh. "But I had an awfully hard time sitting still. Nowadays I would probably have been labeled ADHD and prescribed drugs. Back then my parents enrolled me in martial arts classes, which taught me physical fitness, concentration and discipline. Seventeen years, kindergarten to grad school. I have black belts in Tae Kwon Do, Judo, and Krav Maga." He grinned broadly. "Of course, living in Hawaii I also hit the beach often and swam, surfed, did kayaking, oh, any number of sports. I met Carolyn, my wife, in college, fell hard and fast in love, and got her to marry me before she could have second thoughts. Nellie came along shortly thereafter, followed a couple of years later by Lance. So we were married grad students with small children in a tiny apartment in just-off-campus housing. Fortunately with two sets of doting grandparents very nearby. Carolyn got her masters in economics and went into real estate. I stayed for my doctorate in computer science."

For some reason, that hadn't surprised her. "So I should be a callin ya 'Doctor Nathan' then?"

He winced comically. "Please don't. It's awkward being a non-medical doctor. If anyone hears 'doctor' they automatically change the conversation to their bunions, or kidney stones, or overactive bladder." She had laughed softly. "Anyway, Carolyn spent a lot of time running around on her various real estate projects and was always coming home with aching feet. A took a couple of classes to learn how to do professional grade foot rubs; so I've had a lot practice."

"Tell me about your children."

"Well, Nellie has her master's degree in Information Science and is an archivist and historian for the State of Hawaii. Lance is finishing up his doctorate in marine biology and now works for the Navy's Marine Mammal Program, working with the dolphins and seals in Point Loma, California, but travels widely - and doesn't talk much about it. They both have steady significant others, despite my prodding to get married, but no grandchildren - yet. That would make me feel a little old." Nathan chuckled at Ariana's fascinated look. He took a deep breath, started to speak, and then looked away. His voice was a little strained as he continued. "Carolyn died in a car accident about three years ago. The trucking company kept a driver with a known substance abuse problem and numerous accidents; sister-in-law of one of the owners, or something. Carolyn was brain dead but I wouldn't let them 'pull the plug' for a week. I gave in when even her mother told me I should let go." The deep breath was just a tiny bit shaky. "The kids were out of the house. The light had gone out of my life. I became a major league workaholic." He glanced at her again, the pain obvious in his eyes. "Two months later a friend of mine practically dragged me out of my office and to the Madri-Gals first concert in Honolulu. You came out and sang, 'My Heart Will Go On,' and - and - all the flood gates opened and I cried. For months I had been in such a state of shock that I couldn't even start grieving. Your singing threw me an emotional lifeline I badly needed. I bought tickets for the second and third performances. Center section, three rows back, and I was the first one on my feet for every standing ovation." He looked at her, his wry smile incredibly shaded with shyness. "After that, the Madri-Gals went on to Tokyo and I went back to martial arts and beach bumming, and I turned out to be even more productive at work than when I tried to hide in it 18 or 20 hours a day." He chuckled. "And I immediately registered domain www.arianacollins.com and started your on-line fan forum."

Ariana had been thinking about crazy fans. "That surprised me. Marie encouraged me to go on-line ta expand me fan base, or some such, and then I found the obvious name already taken."

"When I got your e-mail, I couldn't believe it was really from you." He grinned at her; a boyish, winning, devil-may-care grin that could steal fire from the gods, and then sell it back at a profit. "I wish I had recorded my expression when you SKYPE'd with me and I saw it WAS you. I think I felt somewhere between a little kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and a mountain-climber getting hit by lightning. I did offer to turn the domain over to you."

"You had done such a wonderful job on the site, I was quite flattered. And that meant I didn't have to worry about administering anything." She chuckled. "I am not really that comfortable with computers. I rely a lot on Marie fer anthin other than e-mail."

"Well, I try not to be one of those stereotype computer geeks -- overweight, under-exercised and unaware of the 'real' world. I even competed in the last Hawaiian Iron Man competition, after listening to you sing, of course."

"Really? Did ya win?"

His eyes twinkled most mischievously. "No, but I wasn't that far back in the pack."

They had gotten all of the clues, which turned out to be puzzle pieces, solved the puzzle, which had turned out to be a series of riddles, and gotten through the Air, Earth, Water and Fire challenges, using their Express Pass to get them through an exceptionally difficult Fire challenge. They had been Team Number One by only a hundred meters. The troupe had cheered and made the obligatory congratulations about nine of nine times, and then they had headed off to the buses.

Linnae roused her, and she woke with a start to find a nearly full cup of cold tea still cradled in her hands. She glanced around the bus's living room. Lavender was asleep on the couch, with a quilt made by her grandmother wrapped around her. Marie was turning off the television. And Cassie was coming out of the bathroom, and slipping into her privacy bunk. As she stood up, Ariana felt a sudden need, and hurried to the temporarily vacant bathroom.

As she stepped through the door she heard Marie's voice; "Well, weren't the two of you cozy on tha flight?"

She spun around. "Wha do you mean?"

"All cuddled up on the flight together; twas such a peaceful sight." If she hadn't known Marie for years, she might have mistaken it for a casual remark. But before she could respond, Marie had clicked shut her own privacy door.

Once safe inside her bunk, Ariana checked her e-mail. There was an e-mail from Nathan with attachment; undoubtedly the next chapter. She felt a twinge of guilt that she hadn't responded at all when he had so obviously put in so much effort on the project. And he was a fine writer. She told herself that she had no time, and certainly not enough skill, to write matching chapters of the quality Nathan's deserved. She opened the e-mail - to find the usual bland, chatty fan forum news and nothing else. She resolutely archived the missive and then opened an e-mail from her agent: *Call me. Time doesn't matter.*

She called, and didn't even have a chance to talking before the voice poured out like water from a bursting dam. "Ariana, the other shoe has dropped. The producers are willing to NOT air the slap after the kiss, not release the recording in any way, and inform all concerned that it falls under the non-disclosure portion of their contracts. In exchange, they want your release of some scene recorded at the airport as you were leaving which occurred after the time period covered by the regular release. They said that the narration will indicate that the race ran long and that you had to rush to catch your flight before you could say goodbye to Nathan, so the crew raced across Alexandria to get to the airport. Oh, by the way, what did happen at the airport?"