Chapter 29: Cranberry Malaguena Surprise
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"As
much as I want to dislike him," Emily murmured, "I have to admit,
he's fun to watch." She winked at Gina, and then joined in with the rest
of the audience when they clapped along to an instrumental version of 'La Bamba'.
In perfect time with the music, Etienne's bouncy footwork took him past where
Gina, Emily, and Kelsey were standing with the other athletes who scooted out
from the backstage area to spy on the men's competition. He flashed them a casual
grin and a quick salute.
Elbowing Gina, Emily asked, "I think he was waving at you."
Shrugging, Gina didn't take her gaze off Etienne, as he tossed off a huge triple axel. "I think he was just waving at all of the skaters. In general." She didn't want to provide any fuel to the rumor that she was sleeping with 'someone'. Oh, Emily and Kelsey had promised that they believed her, but they were only two people. Who knew what was going on in the minds of everyone else in the building?
On the ice, Etienne finished his number with a super-fast scratch spin to the enthusiastic applause of the audience. After a flamboyant bow, he skated backward off the ice, pausing only to grab an armload of flowers from one of the teenagers who had rushed the boards when the music ended. He kissed her on both cheeks, and continued on to the Kiss & Cry area.
"I will never wash my face again," Emily translated, looking at the blushing teen who was gesticulating wildly to her exuberant friends. She sighed theatrically. "Well, that should put him ahead of Ryan. Yup. Definitely," she added, when Etienne's string of 5.9s and 6.0s flashed across the scoreboard.
Gina knew that Emily was hoping her brother would hang onto first place, but Etienne's strong skate hadn't given anything away technically. With a quad toe, a triple lutz-triple loop combination, and a triple axel, Etienne's program was as competitive as his short programs had been throughout his eligible seasons. Ryan's quad salchow had given him a close second place, but Etienne was a better performer still, and in a pro-am competition like this one, performance counted.
Etienne's and Ryan's programs had been the only part of the competition Gina had seen so far. She'd missed the rest of the men's programs, and all of the pairs, choosing instead to spend the beginning of the competition in her hotel room, taking a leisurely shower and then aimlessly channel surfing for an hour. She had hoped this would relax her, but now, as her stomach coiled itself into a tight knot, she realized she was just as nervous as she would have been had she been in the arena during the early part of the competition. And she would have liked to have seen Kelsey and Nik's technical program, which had, according to Emily's report stunned the audience into silence and garnered straight 6.0s from the judges.
The roar of the Zamboni shook Gina from her thoughts. Time to put her skates on and get ready for her warm-up. The draw had her skating fifth, so she'd be able to do a complete warm-up. Excusing herself from Emily and Kelsey, she took the handle of her new skatebag in hand, and slipped backstage. Probably she should go to the locker room to put on her skates, but she just didn't feel up to facing Kira Dyakonova again. The other skaters, she didn't know at all, although years ago, she had skated against Sandi Madison in the Junior Nationals. But sharing a locker room with five highly credentialled skaters was just too ... intimidating, so she found a folding chair backstage, sat down, and put on her skates there. Luckily, she had changed into her costume and done her hair and make-up in the hotel room, so once her skates were on, she was ready. So to speak.
All she had to do now was stand up and walk to the ice.
Five minutes later, when Jonathan came looking for her, she was still in the chair. He raised his eyebrow. "I was about to call your room."
She shrugged. Hiding in her room for the rest of the day had a certain appeal. But given the amount of effort they'd gone to get her here, she figured she'd better go warm up. "I was just... I don't know."
"Talking yourself into complete panic." He rubbed his chin, and shifted his weight awkwardly. "I'm sorry. I should have been looking after you earlier... but... there was something I had to do that I couldn't get out of." His jaw clenched tightly, shaking Gina out of her funk enough to wonder what exactly he had been doing, but rather than ask, she slowly stood up and let him walk her toward the ice. "Take the first minute and just do crossovers and waltz jumps until you get the blood going. Work on the triple loop, then the axel, and we'll see how the flip is feeling today."
If she didn't feel confident with the flip, they planned to substitute the toe loop. At the moment, she didn't even feel confident about triple anythings. But all she said, was, "Ok," and joined the other skaters as they waited to be let onto the ice. She knew she shouldn't let this warm up session bother her. With two Olympic Gold medalists, two Olympic Bronze medalists, and the current Russian National Champion/World Bronze Medalist on the ice, no one was going to be looking at her anyway. Perhaps she could just meekly go about her warm up unbothered.
As soon as she stepped in the ice, she realized how wrong that thought had been. Kira and Katya Dyakonova seemed to be taking turns cutting everyone else off (so much for sibling rivalry), and though Gina wasn't the sole target of this treatment, she certainly felt like she was the most affected by it. Amanda simply switched to practicing her spins, forcing them to move around her; Sandi keep falling on her jumps, but she was laughing it off; and Kiki had rolled her eyes, muttered, "this is bullshite" in her incongruous British accent, and proceeded to cut Kira off -- in the process leaping into an illegal backflip that had the audience on its feet.
After her third aborted attempt at the triple loop, Gina was feeling worse than she had all day. I don't belong here. Instead of getting warm, all of her muscles were tightening and there was a definite cramp forming at the arch of her foot. Attempting to shake it out, she sculled over to the boards, where a white knuckled Jonathan was watching the proceedings. "They keep cutting me off," she said, probably unnecessarily.
"Only because you're letting them," he said, handing her a bottle of water. "Take control. You have just as much right to be here as they do."
Do I?
But she knew better than to voice that thought out loud. She stretched her aching foot behind her, trying to make the cramp go away.
"Forget the jumps," Jonathan continued. "Follow Amanda's lead. Spin. Make them go around you--oh, too late." he added when the loudspeaker crackled and announced the end of the warm up.
Gratefully, Gina left the ice, not even bothering to try and do one last jump, as Kiki and Katya were doing. Her foot felt like it was caught in a vise grip. She didn't realize she was limping until Jonathan looked at her with sudden concern. "What's wrong? Did you hurt your ankle?"
Falling into the chair she'd found earlier, she said, "No. Just a cramp." She leaned over and began trying to undo the lace, her fingers ineffectively scrabbling at the dense knot. Finally she got it untied. She wiggled her foot out of the tight boot and began trying to work the cramp out, her hands backing off every time she hit a nerve.
"Let me," Jonathan said, dragging another chair over to her. He sat down, pulled her foot into his lap, and firmly pressed his thumbs directly into the cramp. Gina shut her eyes at the sharp pain, but immediately the muscle began to smooth. She opened her eyes again, to find him contemplating her foot professionally, using his thumbs and knuckles to straighten out the tense muscles. He met her gaze with a self-deprecating grin. "I've had a lot of practice at this." She had a sudden mental image of him sitting on the couch in his penthouse with some exotic female, giving her an expert foot massage, and for some reason, the thought made her blush. Where did that come from? Once again correctly interpreting the look on her face, he added, "I get cramps all the time now, and there isn't always a therapist around to help me. All right, try pointing your toe."
She did as instructed.
"Does it feel like the cramp is going to come back?"
As soon as she thought about it, the muscle began to hurt again, so she nodded. He reached for his cane. "Probably it's nerves, but let's not take any chances. I'm going to see if I can find a banana for you."
She transferred her foot back into her own lap. "A banana?"
"Potassium is supposed to prevent cramps, and bananas are full of potassium. There's a buffet with fruit in the official's room, I'll go steal one from there." Slowly, he got up from the flimsy chair, and Gina understood why he suffered from so many cramps. What happened if he was by himself and got one that he couldn't reach to massage out? Did he just suffer for hours? "I'll be back in plenty of time before you skate," he added before he disappeared around a corner.
Gina didn't have more than a minute to wonder more about her coach's physical state before she was joined by Emily, who flopped gracelessly into Jonathan's abandoned chair. "Hey. You looked like you pulled something out there, so I thought I'd come check. Ya all right?"
Shrugging, Gina said, "Just a cramp."
"Owie." Emily winced sympathetically. "When I first started skating, I used to get those every time I skated forward. As soon as I started skating backward, they stopped. Weird, huh?"
"Yeah." Then, because she wondered just how much she was being outclassed, she asked, "What's going on out there?" From where she sat, she couldn't even hear the music, although occasionally a loud cheer would penetrate.
"Let's see." Emily put on what Gina was beginning to recognize as her Îcommentator' voice. "Katya skated first, solid program to Russian Folk music. Double axel, triple lutz, triple salchow-double toe combo--cute footwork section too. She's kept up her skills pretty well, even though she's mostly just coaching now." She switched to a more conspirital tone and said, "I can't stand to watch Sandi Madison skate, boring, boring, boring, and as soon as she splatted her flutz, I came back here to find you."
"What music is she using?" Gina always wanted to know about music.
"Chopin's Fantasie Impromptu ... she kept her short program from last year."
"Uh oh," Gina had been lucky enough in the past to never use the same music as anyone else in any given competition, but now her luck had run out. Not that the Chopin concerto was the same as the Fantasie Impromptu, but the composer's sound was distinctive enough that in a group of only six skaters, the similarity was going to be obvious. She said as much to Emily.
Shrugging, Emily said, "The way she's skating today, it probably doesn't matter." Then as applause sustained enough to signal the end of the program could be heard, she stood up. "I'm going to go see what Kira's short program looks like--she's probably the only one besides of SuZhen who has a shot of beating Donna this year. You staying back here?"
Gina nodded, noticing that Jonathan was returning with the promised banana. Emily waved in his direction, and scooted back inside.
Handing her the banana, which looked a bit over-ripe, Jonathan said, "Try to get about half of it down at least. Then we need to put your skate back on and get you ready to compete."
Choking a bit as the mushy fruit hit her tastebuds, Gina vowed to bring a bottle of multivitamins to her next competition. Even in the best of circumstances, this wasn't her preferred choice of food. Yeucch.
By the time Gina stepped on the ice, her cramps were gone, but her inner tension had returned in full. Shaking out her arms, she allowed her glance to fall on the current standings: 1. Dyakonova, Kira; 2. Dyakonova, Katya; 3. Madison, Sandi; 4. Barrett, Amanda. She had caught the last minute of Amanda's routine: the older woman had skated mechanically, looking drained of energy. Then Gina had realized that Amanda wasn't really that much older than Gina... no more than three years. It hadn't done much for her confidence.
What am I doing here?!
That was probably not the best thing to be running through her mind as the music began. Though she was smiling at the audience, it felt like it was pasted on, not a true smile. With a crash of chords, she took off, but something inside of her had shut down completely. Always before, the music had rescued her, lifted her up, propelled her onward. Always before, there had at least been a connection with both the music, and the audience.
Today... nothing. Her arm movements felt unnatural, and all she could think about was, "what's next, what's next, what's next?" Oddly enough, her jumps, which had been her problems in the past, were on, and she easily landed even the triple flip... but.... she felt so...
...disconnected....
She wasn't there. Her muscles were dutifully going through all the motions she had practiced so carefully over the summer and early autumn, but her heart wasn't in it. And the more she tried to get it back, the worse she felt. She was sure that to the audience, she looked just like an automaton. When she finally hit her closing pose, to the sound of polite applause, it was all she could do to make herself curtsy before escaping the gaze of the crowd and the cameras. Without bothering to pick up the flowers, surely thrown out of pity, she zipped off the ice, surprised to hear Kiki's voice say, "Nice skate."
She knew better, and from the impassive expression on Jonathan's face, she knew he knew better as well. He didn't say a word though, only awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, and nudged her toward Kiss & Cry. Oh hell, she was going to have to sit in front of the camera and watch her scores go up. She sat down, bit the inside of her cheek, and schooled her face into a look of accepting curiosity.
Once Jonathan was seated, he leaned over and said in a low voice, "You don't need to be that terrified. It was actually a solid program."
She dug her fingers into her palms. "I can do better," she whispered, hoping her voice was too low for the cameras. "I don't know what happened out there."
"You looked tense," Jonathan said, this time rubbing her shoulder and upper arm briskly. He started to say something else, but stopped when the marks were read, a confused string running from 5.3 to 5.6 for technique and a solid row of 5.5s for presentation that put her into third place behind the Dyakonova sisters. That would fall to fourth, she knew, after Kiki skated, but with a feeling of shock, she realized that she wasn't in last place.
Four hours later, it was a Gina with a different state of mind, who settled down to watch the pairs artistic programs, with Emily on one side of her, and Jonathan on the other. After the technical programs, Jonathan had whisked her out of the arena, given her half an hour to change clothes, and then taken her to an arcade. Gina had been dubious, but within five minutes of beginning a pinball game called "Las Vegas" and getting to whack a silver ball down the cleavage of a large breasted cartoon who slightly resembled Kira Dyakonova, she had begun to see the attraction of the plan.
They played for a while in silence, Gina cheerfully losing two games in a row, before her coach had finally said, "Want to talk about it now?" Without pausing to look at her, he sent the ball zig-zagging between a row of 'playing cards,' racking up 50,000 points.
"I don't know what happened. I just didn't feel into it." Her eyes followed the track of the ball in play, and she wondered how many games of pinball her coach had subjected himself to during competitions to get this proficient. She shrugged. "I couldn't feel the music, I kept focusing on the elements and I knew it felt wrong, but I didn't know how to fix it."
"Hmmm. To an objective eye," he glanced over to her and gave her one of those lopsided smiles, "which I would be the first to admit that I'm not, it would have looked like a good solid technical skate. You nailed every element."
"But something was missing." Gina sighed, and then switched places with Jonathan as he finally hit the ball too hard, and it sailed around the left paddle and disappeared into the bowels of the machine. She pulled the little plunger back and sent her own ball into play. It spun a mini-roulette wheel around, which whipped the ball out of bounds instantly. She blew her hair out of her eyes and took her place back at the side of the machine again. This time, she vowed to observe Jonathan's pinball technique.
Instead of pulling back on the plunger, he thunked it with the palm of his hand. Otherwise, she couldn't tell what he was doing that she hadn't been. "I think it's more of you taking the next step in the process, but it didn't feel natural to you, so you panicked."
She rested her elbows on the side of the machine and put her chin on her hands. "What do you mean?" she asked, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. He appeared to be totally concentrating on the game, yet he was quite able to carry on a conversation.
"For the past several years, you've been skating purely improvisationally. You didn't have to keep to a set program, and you got out of the habit of doing jumps at the same place every time. You let yourself be totally guided by the music. Now that you are actually competing again, you have to skate not just musically connected, but also technically correct. You know this."
She nodded.
"After all the work we've done, your body took over when the program started--which was as it should be. But you didn't expect it, and it threw you off. That's why your heart was disconnected from the music, you panicked, and you didn't trust yourself." His turn ended, as did the game, and he leaned against the machine and looked at her. "Do you understand?"
"Sort of." But not really. "Another game?"
He looked around the room, his expression seeming first surprised then pleased at a video machine in the corner. "Tempest!"
Huh?
Already on his way to the machine, he said, over his shoulder, "I used to play this when I was thirteen years old. It was one of the three machines at my old rink." He ran his finger reverently along the top edge of the game, to Gina it looked like it might actually be the same one that had been in his rink over 15 years ago. "Watch this." He put a quarter in the machine, and a geometric tower appeared on the screen. From what Gina could see, it just looked like he sent a space car around the top edge of the tower, shooting at things that were climbing up the middle of the tower and shooting back. She watched him in silence for a while. Finally, when he got into the rhythm of the game, he said, "It's merely that you have to be able to do two things at once. You have to trust that your body knows what to do, technique-wise, and let the rest of you concentrate on communicating what's in your heart to the audience."
"Only two things at once." Gina laughed.
"It's what you were doing before, only you didn't realize it, because you were too worried about landing the jumps. This time, you didn't have to worry, because you've been landing the jumps without any problems." He elbowed her in the ribs. "If you want to return to your comfort level of jump-panic, we can always put a triple lutz into the Hollywood Nocturne program."
"That's ok," she said dryly, aware that she was just barely landing double lutzes at this point. "What should I do tonight then?"
"Relax, trust that you know the program well enough to enjoy performing it. After this afternoon, you know that your technique is as good as anyone else's, even if the difficulty isn't quite there yet." He spun the handle around, taking out eight aliens in his wake. "Hm. Like having s--riding a bicycle. You never forget. Want to try?"
Gina took over at the machine, and after a few moments of trial and error, got the hang of moving and shooting at the same time. She grinned. Apparently she could do two things at once...
... Now, as the MC announced the pairs team Natalya Sherkaya and Petr Nevsky, Gina sat back to enjoy the competition. Having realized that sitting in the hotel room made her feel worse, she had decided to watch as many of the programs as she could, hoping that seeing the skating would inspire her to do well. After all, when she watched skating on television, she often wanted to put on her skates immediately afterward--so why should a live competition be any different?
"Oh God," Emily muttered, catching sight of Natalya and Petr's Renaissance style costumes. "They're going to do Romeo and Juliet. Please, don't let it be Prokofiev, please don't let it be Prokofiev--shit!" she exclaimed as the bombastic tones of 'The Montagues and the Capulets filled the arena.
Sitting with Emily, Gina soon realized, was like watching Mystery Science Theater, for the girl kept up a running commentary that had her and Jonathan laughing all the way through the Russian's overwrought interpretation, which ended with Petr carrying around Natalya's "dead" body for nearly an entire minute. "You know, all they'd have to do is change costumes, and they could keep the same choreography and do an interpretation of Christ carrying the cross." When the Canadian team of Jeanette Auteuil and Robert Foster skated out wearing elaborate and vaguely Latin-looking black, red, and gold costumes, Emily placed her fingers on her temples and said in a thick accent, "I see... I see... a Piazzolla tango in our future."
Sure enough, the familiar sound of "Adios Nonino" began playing over the sound system. Emily groaned and dropped her head into her lap. "Please, please, I'm dying for some original music here. Or at least something that's not going to give me a headache." By the time the American team of Suzi Tyler and James Winter appeared -- Suzi in a Harem outfit, and James dressed like a sheik-- Emily pulled five dollars out of her purse and said, "Whole New World from Aladdin."
Surprising Gina, Jonathan said, "No, Laurence of Arabia."
Both Emily and Jonathan sat back with complacent expressions on their faces, apparently assured of victory. Both nearly jumped out of their seats when Suzi and James' music began with a vibrating guitar solo. Gina almost wished she had been able to watch both their faces.
"Magic Carpet Ride" Emily said. "Clever." She nodded in time to the Rock and Roll classic. "I wish I'd thought of that."
"I'm surprised you didn't," Jonathan leaned over Gina to address Emily. "Let's see, your short program is to Dick Dale, your long program is a comic routine to Chopsticks, and your exhibition is the B-52s' Love Shack. Steppenwolf would fit right in there."
"And," Emily said, "according to Patrick, you are 'Mr. Classical Music'. I bet you cringed all the way through all three programs."
That's right, Emily was at Finlandia with Jonathan and Patrick, Gina thought, and then felt a pang of some unidentifiable emotion at the knowledge that Emily easily brought out a more relaxed side of Jonathan. But then, Emily seemed to be able to do that with everyone. Gina certainly felt comfortable around her, and even Kelsey, generally reputed to be the ultimate Ice Princess snot, had been joking and laughing.
Suzi and James finished their routine to enthusiastic applause, not merely attributable to the fact that they were an American team. Their athletic and explosive performance vaulted them over the Canadian's Tango, but the marks hadn't been high enough to put them ahead of the Russians.
When Kelsey and Nik skated out, the audience, already pumped from the previous routine, grew even more excited. In contrast to the elaborate costumes of the other three teams, they seemed to be wearing casual street clothing--Nik in jeans and a black t-shirt, Kelsey in a short sleeved lavender mini-dress.
"No predictions?" Gina asked.
Shaking her head, Emily said, "I already know. Saw it last week at Skate America. Hold on your seats, this is an awesome program."
Dutifully, Gina sat up straight and leaned forward--but she didn't need to be told to do so. From the second that Westin & Katsanis had stepped onto the ice, she could feel there was something special about them. Several beats into the music, U2's All I Want Is You, they stayed posed, Nik behind Kelsey, his arms around her waist, his chin on her shoulder while she leaned back against him, her crossed arms resting on his, while everyone in the arena held their breath.
Later, she would realize that as entranced as she had been with this program, she could not recall any of the specific elements. Everything had flowed seamlessly from one move to the next, so while one tiny part of her brain was thinking, "split triple twist", every other part of her was carried along on the spell woven by the pair. There was a story being told, of a love as obsessive as it was pure; a mood brought out, of passion and need. Gina had heard that Westin & Katasanis were said to be the first truly great American pairs team in almost twenty years, but all the spoken praise was nothing compared to being in the arena that night.
"Kelsey, that was incredible," Gina said the pairs skater in the locker room as she got ready for her own artistic program. "Congratulations."
"Thank you," Kelsey said, looking both excited and exhausted. "It felt like everything was working today. It all came together. Hard to explain, but..." she shrugged, and leaned her face against the cool metal of her locker. "Can't decide whether to celebrate, or sleep for 24 hours. Long day." She pulled a bottle of Evian out of her locker, and took a long drink.
It all came together... Maybe that was the same kind of thing that Jonathan had been trying to explain earlier. Getting the technique so that it seemed natural and comfortable, and the performance would flow easily from there. She wanted to follow that trail of thought further, but she worried that if she thought about it too much, she would lose the equanimity she'd managed to achieve this afternoon and evening. So she smiled, and concentrated on the task at hand, which was to try and reach the zipper on her costume.
"Here, I'll do it," Emily said, taking matters into her own hands. She slid the zipper shut easily, while Gina began making adjustments to her skirt. "That's a great costume."
Laughing, Gina explained it was secondhand. "It used to be Cyndie Neill's." Then, because she didn't want to give them the wrong idea, she added, "And his girlfriend Jocelyn did the alterations--that's who I thought you were this morning, by the way. Cody's girlfriend Jocelyn... from a distance the two of you could be twins."
Kelsey spit a mouthful of water onto the floor and then began coughing. Emily patted her on the back, none too gently. "Careful there. Jeez, Kelsey, what's with you? You skate an awesome pairs program like that, and then forget how to take a drink of water?" With one final thump, she looked around, smiled, and said, "Well, I'm going to go out and watch as much of the men's event as possible. See you two there."
Again, Gina sensed there was something else going on here, but Emily scooted out of the locker room so quickly that she didn't have a chance to comment. She looked over at Kelsey, who was busily rummaging through her locker. Kelsey met her glance and said, "do you need help with your hair?"
"I always need help with my hair," Gina sighed. "For tonight, I was just going to wear a clip at the base of my neck." She pulled the clip out of her bag and demonstrated. Kelsey examined the effect.
"I like it... what's the program music?"
"Hollywood Nocturne." Noting Kelsey's blank expression, Gina explained further, "It's sort of a bluesy ballad with a rhumba beat. Sounds like something out of the forties, but Latin flavored."
"In that case... may I?" Kelsey reached for the large barrette. "Turn around."
Gina let Kelsey fiddle with her hair for a few minutes, figuring someone with such exquisite taste in clothes and exacting taste in food probably knew what she was about with hair as well. Joey Milstein's Aunt Rose had given her some advice on taming her wild mane, but Gina was still clueless on how to wear it when she competed. She could feel Kelsey tugging her curls this way and that, and once she winced as a piece got caught in the barrette.
"Ok, turn around again." Gina did. Kelsey pulled a few more curls in the front, wetting her fingers in the mineral water, and then twisting the hair around them. Then she tilted her head, looked at Gina for a moment, and took a compact mirror out of a silver case and held it up to Gina. "I think that will work. It will still be out of your face, but now it's more of an old movie style."
She looked into the mirror. Kelsey had twisted the sides of her hair up, and secured them at the top of her head with the clip. A few tendrils dangled in front of her ears, and the back of her hair flowed freely behind her shoulders. She smiled, "this is exactly the kind of look I was going for." Encouraged by the results, she let Kelsey do her make-up as well, a process taken care of quickly and efficiently. "You're really good at this."
Kelsey shrugged. "Maybe someday I'll be a fashion consultant." She sighed. "It's hard to think that far in advance though. With almost four years to go until the Olympics..."
"I know." And Gina wasn't even sure if she had a shot at the 2002 team. She looked around the locker room, where the other five competitors, all but Kira Olympic veterans, were quietly preparing themselves for competition. There was no open hostility, but there wasn't much camaraderie either, except for Amanda and Sandi's whispered giggles about Sandi's baseball-player fiancŽ. Do I have the nerves to go through this for the next four years? Then, realizing that Kelsey seemed to expect more of an explanation, she added, "I'm in college, but I think what I really want is to be a choreographer. Maybe." But she hadn't really thought about it. "I think most of us just go from competition to competition."
"I certainly do," Kelsey said. "Last week in Detroit, this week Atlanta, next month in Paris. Then, believe it or not, World Pros, and oh yeah, Christmas is in December, isn't it?" She laughed. "I really envy Emily. She's always known what she wants to do with her life and in twenty years, I totally expect she'll be running ABC Sports." Methodically, she began folding her clothes back into her locker. "Come on, let's go help her watch Ryan." Since Gina also wanted to catch Etienne's skate, she easily agreed to this plan.
Etienne had yet to skate, and Ryan was just taking his position when Kelsey and Gina reached the barrier, where Emily stood, her hands clenched behind her back. Looking like a character from an 18th century play, Etienne was just a few feet away, dressed in cream colored pants, a matching embroidered satin vest, blue satin jacket, and his hair tied back in a queue. He bounced up and down on his feet and rolled his shoulders. In contrast, Ryan's black pants and black, yellow, and orange shirt seemed almost subdued. Kelsey put her hand on Emily's shoulder, striking a chord of memory. Gina glanced behind her, up to the section of seats from where Jonathan was still watching, an empty space on either side of him. She gestured to one of the seats, wondering if he wanted company, but he shook his head.
She turned her attention back to the ice, but in truth she wasn't paying any attention to Ryan's skate. A minor reason for this was that she suddenly noticed two large groups of spectators sitting next to each other, alternately shrieking "Go Ryan" and then glaring at the other group. According to the signs many members were carrying, one group called itself "Ryan's Renegades" while the other apparently was "Ryan's Other Fan Club." She made a note to ask Emily about the two groups, which she immediately forgot when Etienne appeared at her elbow. "He is good, is he not?" he asked, as Ryan swept by performing some well choreographed and innovative footwork to the Talking Head's Burning Down the House.
Gina nodded, since it was obviously true. Then realizing that Etienne might actually be looking for some kind of reassurance, she said, "But you're incredible." Etienne gave her a happy smile, so she figured she'd said the right thing. "What are you skating to tonight?"
"Finally, it is time for Liberace," he said, winking at her. "And that is all I am to tell you about my program, Gina." He left her side and strode over to the ice entrance, and Gina belatedly joined in the applause for Ryan O'Connor. Ryan was bowing to all sides of the rink, then skated over to where the two fan clubs were jostling for supremacy at the boards. He accepted a giant bouquet of flowers from the Renegades, what looked like a handmade quilt from the "Other Fan Club," and kisses from as many of the women as he could, before going over to Kiss and Cry to join an older man and a woman.
"I don't believe it," Emily muttered looking at the three people awaiting the marks. She glared at the woman. "What the hell is she doing up there?"
"Who?" Kelsey asked.
"Chelsea Shannon-Wallach. She's the President of Ryan's official fan club, the Renegades, and she has no business being in Kiss and Cry." She started toward the group, but Kelsey pulled her back.
"Not here," Kelsey advised. "Deal with it after the competition."
Emily sighed and dropped her head on the barrier. "I know, I know. I just can't believe Ryan would be so stupid. This whole fan club thing is getting really out of control." She raised her head again. "Ok. I'll talk to him about it on the flight back to California. Boy will I ever talk to him." She brightened up a bit when Ryan's marks were read; the 5.9s and 6.0s guaranteed Ryan at least a second place.
Then, with the exception of the two fan clubs, the arena erupted in cheers when Etienne was announced. He waved to the crowd, then settled down into pose reminiscent of Rodin's sculpture, The Thinker. The music, Liberace's oddly quiet version of Fur Elise began, and Gina once again caught a glimpse of the introspective Etienne of 1992. The flamboyant arm gestures and elaborate footwork were gone, replaced by smooth silent edges and beautifully extended Spread Eagles & Bauer glides, and an effortless looking triple axel-triple loop combination that had the audience on its feet in the first minute of the program.
"I always forget just how good he is," Kelsey said.
"I know," Emily said.
With a crash of chords, the music changed. Somehow, Etienne managed to take off his coat while doing a series of Barrel Rolls around the far corner of the rink. He tossed the coat over the side, and without losing a step, began interpreting a Rachmaninov piece that Gina recognized by composer, but not by name. All of a sudden, he was Sturm und Drang, flinging his arms about sorrowfully, beating his chest with his fist.
"Apparently Elise died," Emily said, causing giggles to break out all through the group of skaters who had crept out to watch the two time Olympic Medalist take his turn. "And still, he manages to do a triple lutz, nicely centered camel spin--interesting arm position," she noted.
He skated to a halt in the center of the ice, ripped off the vest and held it high over his head. He looked over at the skaters with a look of pure deviltry on his face. "Too many more tempo changes," Emily said, "and he's gonna be naked out there."
"I sure hope so," Sandi Madison said, from somewhere behind Gina.
The music swelled again into the third distinct tune, and Etienne began a slow passage of heel-toe footwork, with another grin at the skaters gathered at the boards. If, at that moment, ABC's television cameras had happened to turn and start filming the group of skaters watching Etienne's performance instead of getting the shot of Etienne climbing into audience to kiss a woman in the front row, the viewing public would have had the pleasure of seeing them collapse like bowling pins in hysterical laughter. "Oh. My. God," Emily said, speaking for all of them. "It's Malaguena!"
Etienne's hilarious (and competition winning) version of Fur Elise/Rachmaninov/Malaguena was the final element needed to complete Gina's upswing of mood. She went into her warm-up feeling like she was over her feet, and excited about her upcoming program. Even though the Dyakonova sisters continued their ice-hogging tactics, some spur of the moment advice from Kiki had helped Gina find an ignored spot in the ice to allow her to practice her layback. Her confidence was boosted further, when she realized the smattering of applause that followed the spin, was for her. She'd sent a smile to the audience, and then found a break in the action which allowed her to practice her double loop-half loop-triple salchow combination.
This time, she had drawn the fourth spot in the skating order, immediately following Kiki, whose costume of black and grey rags and unusual white face paint and kohl-rimmed eyes, had sparked Gina's curiosity. "Do you think if I stood far enough back, I could watch?" Out of respect for the other competitors, Gina had stayed backstage during the first two ladies' programs. It was a well-known skating legend that Katarina Witt of East Germany had often stood at the boards to watch--and intimidate--her competition. But Gina didn't want to intimidate Kiki... she just wanted a chance to see the reigning Olympic champion live.
"I think you could get away with it," Jonathan said, pulling back the blue curtain that separated the backstage area from the ice. "I'd like to see this myself." They inched as close as they dared. "Can you see?"
She nodded, her attention already on the black & grey pile of rags in the center of the ice. Kiki was huddled on her rear, her knees drawn up to her chest and held tightly in place by her arms. She was rocking slowly back and forth, even as the audience was still showering her with their applause of welcome. They finally silenced, and Kiki continued her rocking even as over the loudspeaker, Gina could hear Kiki's voice reciting the verse of a poem:
What is it but nightfall?
No, no, not night but death;
Was it needless death after all?
For England may keep faith
For all that is done and said.
We know their dream; enough
To know they dreamed and are dead;
And what if excess of love
Bewildered them till they died?
I write it out in a verse -
MacDonagh and MacBride
And Connolly and pearse
Now and in time to be,
Wherever green is worn,
Are changed, changed utterly:
A terrible beauty is born.
While the voice was reciting the poem, Kiki moved her hands to cover her ears, opened her mouth in a silent scream, and rolled over so that she was on her knees, her face buried in the ice. Then over the poem, the music began with a harsh guitar chord, and Kiki uncurled until she was standing. With her hands posed in claw-like gestures, she pushed off and then shifted her body into an angularly-shaped position for her spiral. It was the least-elegant spiral Gina had ever seen, but it was perfect for the music, which Gina finally placed as Zombies, by the Cranberries.
She had never seen a program like this. It was pure pain and anger translated into movement, composed of repeated gestures of Kiki dragging her hands through her hair and across her face--yet technically brilliant, as she managed to hurtle across ice in a series of twizzles, all the while keeping the same character she'd established. Gina couldn't keep her eyes off it.
"She's probably the only person in the world who could get away with this program," Jonathan said with admiration in his tone. "It's extremely risky, and yet she's got a Gold Medal and Four World Championships in her pocket, and when she still lands the triple axel--like that" he paused as the powerful jump sent the audience to their feet, where they stayed, "who is going to argue?" Almost to himself, he added, "that's what the gold medalist should do after the Olympics. Transform the sport into something different." He joined the audience in applauding Kiki's bows, his right hand thumping on top his left, which rested on the cane.
Gina agreed completely. And oddly enough, Kiki's electrifying performance was not intimidating to her. It reminded her that there was room tonight for many voices, and she knew she too had something to say to the audience. All of a sudden her feet were itching to run out on the ice. She couldn't wait for her program to begin.
In an echo of her thoughts, Jonathan looked down at her and asked, "How are you feeling? Ready to go?"
"Yes. I'm ready."
She slipped the guards off her blades and set them on top of the boards. With a smile at Kiki, which she hoped said everything that Gina knew she'd never find the right words for, she stepped onto the ice as Kiki hopped off.
Understanding the look, Kiki smiled back. "All warmed up for you, ducky," she murmured, before climbing into the Kiss and Cry area to receive straight 6.0s for both technical and interpretation marks.
"Concentrate on the music," Jonathan said, "and trust that your body knows what to do." He took a deep breath. "I know you can do it."
Feeling stronger than she had since she was a 14 year old jumping bean on top of the world, Gina skated out to center ice and waited for the music to begin.
Notes: Kira and Katya Dyakonova created by Jennifer M. King.
Kiki's poetry verse is from W.B. Yeats' Easter, 1916.
Text Copyright © 1999-2000 Karen Frank
