✅ My Sister's Problem

112. Knocked Out

This chapter is dedicated to Dewayne, with many thanks for your ongoing support! Thank you!

I reached the nearest signup desk for the marathon, and put my name down. It went smoothly; although they had to read me the rules and have me agree to them. I was still a child as far as the event was concerned, and that meant I would also need a card signed by my parents to do an endurance event. The card was warm where it had been resting against my body for all the previous events, but it was exactly what they needed. And then she stamped my wristband, marking off that I'd used all four of the registrations that Mum had paid for.

I thought I might just have time to rush to the bathroom and get myself a couple of donuts to wolf down before the actual race started; but before I got there I caught sight of my sister across the square. I darted towards her, and saw that she was signing up for another event. Did she even have time? Was she going to abandon the marathon, just to do something she thought would give her a better chance? I didn't remember if Mum had said we needed to do the marathon, but I'd been certain Lindy would try it. There weren't many events that were still open now, because there was an expectation that everybody wanted to be in the one big race.

I hesitated, but then moved closer to see what she was signing in for. If she wasn't joining the marathon, I wanted to at least watch her in one event; and the chaos of the marathon start meant that I could start any time within ten minutes of the starting gun, so long as I had already signed up. I could watch Lindy for a few minutes, and then I was sure to have time to join the race. I probably wouldn't win, but finishing the marathon was worth a bronze medal on its own; that was one reason that everybody wanted to join in. Maybe Lindy was planning the same, but I doubted there were many events that would let her finish that quickly.

I wanted to compete against Lindy, but I had used all four of the stamps on my bracelet; and I wasn't sure if I would be allowed to buy an entry for myself. Mum would say I was wasting money, I was sure. I would have to see if it sounded like something I could do when I knew what it was.

As I got closer to the stand, I saw that she was joining the under-16s archery. Not something I could do, but it made sense now. A lot of kids just weren't capable of running the marathon, or couldn't meet the physical fitness requirements to do it safely. So some of the sports had a separate event for kids, and those would keep running while the adults were doing the marathon.

I decided that I would try to find a place where I could watch Lindy. Just for a few minutes. And once I made my way into the area that had been set aside for this particular sport, I found that the stands were almost empty. The number of competitors was small, and the number of people watching them was small too. My instinct was to text Mum and ask her to come too, but as soon as I reached for my phone I realised that it wasn't there. I didn't have a way to communicate right now, so all I could do was watch my sister, and hope that she would do well.

I watched as she walked up to the line, holding her bow somewhat awkwardly. There were people on both sides of her already firing; there was a qualifying round, just like the shooting. I wondered if she had done well on that; if she'd done any better than me. If she was focusing on target sports this year, then she must think she had improved over the last few years.

Lindy drew back the bow slowly, took a deep breath, and sighted along the arrow.

"Come on," I whispered. "You can do it!"

She released, and the arrow buried itself in the ground; about two thirds of the way between her and the target. But she didn't get mad. She just reached for her second, and pulled it back. Her movements were more fluid this time, like she was getting used to the weight of the bow. I held my breath as I waited for her second shot, which landed just a couple of inches from the first. And before I'd even gotten over my surprise, she was drawing back for her third shot. There was more power this time, but it went too high. Three shots, and she hadn't even hit the target.

I felt bad for her; and I couldn't watch anymore. I knew she could take another three shots, up to three attempts to qualify. But after three misses in a row, I couldn't believe she would get even a bronze medal. The event was a bust, and I didn't want to embarrass my sister by watching her fail. But as much as I hated myself for it, I couldn't pull my eyes away. She called for a retry, and one of the event marshals handed her a second pack of arrows, as well as some words of consolation. I could see that she was smiling at least, but I couldn't imagine what she was really feeling under the surface.

This time, her first shot hit the barrier that separated her from the girl to her left. She didn't take it hard, and just tried again. I could see the marshal hovering behind her now, ready to offer sympathy. But Lindy was strong compared to many girls her age, and she had a great poker face when it came to hiding her disappointment. This time, she drew back the bow really slowly, and sighted along the arrow before releasing it. Again, it buried itself in the ground. And again, her third shot was too high.

Third time lucky? I was sure that she would at least manage some points, after sacrificing a few shots to get used to how the bow felt in her hands. But she looked up at the clock, and I could see the thought behind her eyes. She shook her head when the marshal offered the arrows. I wondered if she might rejoin the line to have a shot at a different target; maybe wondering if the bow was crooked or something like that. But then I realised she was heading back to the folding table where the marshals were sitting; going to pick up her participation prize. She hadn't even managed to hit the target, and I knew she must be in need of comfort now. But I also knew that I needed to hurry if I wanted to join the marathon. I could hear the announcer's voice from the other side of the nearest buildings, so they must be about to start. I didn't want to be penalised any more than I had to be.

I still had a moment to catch up with Lindy as she walked back into the square. But she was hurrying ahead of me; she still intended to join the marathon. Did that explain why she was coping so well with a humiliating defeat, perhaps? As I got outside, I realised that she must have been gambling. If she had qualified, there was no way she would have made it in time for the marathon start. So it could be that was her plan. If she qualified, she would miss the marathon; and if she failed, she still had one more race to run. And a participation medal that had only taken five minutes to earn, not taking any time away from whichever artistic discipline she had tried this year. She must have been thinking about this all the time; the target sports weren't a big deal for her, because she knew she was very unlikely to win. She didn't feel bad because it wasn't something she had really expected to do well at.

The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. She had known that she would get a good idea of her chances after the qualifying round. If she did well, she would keep on going. If her performance didn't give her confidence, she could easily bail and pick up a participation medal before heading to the marathon. She'd probably spent most of the day painting a picture, and ended up with only a couple of minutes before the marathon start to use up her fourth event.

"Good luck!" I called, as I caught up with my sister, and gave her a thumbs up when her head turned towards me.

"You too," she said, with a huge grin. "You'll need it!" And a second later she was lost in the crowds, before I could follow what she had said. Did she really think she was beating me? Had she claimed a gold medal in some event? I was sure either Mum or I would have noticed her name on one of the results screens if that was the case. Or was there another trick waiting for me, something that I hadn't even considered?

The marathon had already started when I reached the starting line; a muddy field where the earth had already churned up by hundreds of feet. But I could flash my entry pass at the marshals on the gate, jog up to where the line would have been, and start running. It usually took a mile before the crowds broke up. The best runners would be stuck in crowds now, and the front of the pack would be people who had tried a sprint start; destined to drop out before they even reached the halfway refreshment stand. There was still plenty of time for me to catch up as the herd thinned out a little.

I looked around me for Lindy, but there were so many runners that it was impossible to see her. And as I ran, I could only wonder what her plans would be... I was sure now that she had some reason for her confidence, and I couldn't wait to see how it would go. She would try to outwit me somehow; it was a traditional part of this trip. Somehow it made the vacation feel real for me, and it was hard to contain my excitement as I wondered what the trickster could have in mind this time.