Blitzed(119)

"Serie 4," Francois replied. "What are the terms?"

"If I complete it, then Jordan has to play guitar for our mothers after dinner tonight," I said. "If I lose, I play violin solo."

Jordan started, then shook her head. “That's not fair. I’m not even involved! If you complete this . . . whatever it is, you still have to play with me."

"Two songs as a duet," I countered, enjoying that Jordan was getting into the idea of negotiation. "And you have to play two more songs solo. Come now, it’s poetic. Four songs for Serie 4."

"Deal," Jordan said. “Even though I don’t have a clue what a Serie 4 is.”

Serie 4 was one of the training challenges that our father had set up for us as we grew into adulthood. He’d set up a circuit that was to be completed in twelve minutes I quickly explained. "Give me a few minutes to warm up and get myself ready."

Francois gestured with his hand like go ahead, be my guest, all you are doing is delaying the inevitable. Jordan watched nervously as I took off my shoes and socks. I stripped off my shirt and stretched, doing a quick warm up. I had accepted a big challenge, and I knew it. Still, a bet was a bet, and I knew that Francois was trying to show me up. I squatted and did pushups, slowly flushing my muscles with the blood that was needed to keep them loose and ready for the challenge ahead. Heading over to the dipping rings, I reached up and grabbed them. I was allowed to jump up to the dip position but had to start on the ground.

"Your time starts . . . now," Francois said, and I started my dips. The biggest challenge of Serie 4, and the only reason I could complete it in time, was that instead of just using my upper body like Francois could, I used my legs from the beginning. The dips were ugly, but by kicking my legs in time with my arms, I could use the shift of weight to help. I got through them quickly and walked over to the center beam.

"You're going slow already? I’ll regret missing out on Jordan's playing," Francois taunted. "You’re already forty seconds in."

Instead of wasting my breath on him, I climbed the beam, which had been worn smooth after two decades of me and my brother scaling it, which was why I could climb it without shoes on. Reaching the top I took a breath to steady myself before taking the first beam at a light jog, then going down the rope and back to the rings. "Time?"

"Two minutes, thirty seconds," Jordan said. "You can do it."

I wasn't so confident in my abilities. Sure, it was less than a quarter of the amount of time for the challenge, but I still had three more iterations to go, and I knew my laps would slow as fatigue set in. Francois had been right, since the break-in at the JANM, I'd been lax in my personal fitness upkeep.

Still, with Jordan there cheering me, her calm voice encouraging me while she counted off the repetitions of the dips, I pushed on, and by the end of the third lap, I was still on target. "Nine minutes even," Jordan said, her voice rising in excitement. "Come on Felix, I know you can do it. I believe in you."

Her words were a cooling balm to my aching chest and shoulders, and I pushed harder, my eyes focused on her to distract myself from the pain. I got through the twenty-five dips and ran to the main beam, knowing I had no seconds to spare. My fingers ached as I climbed, and I nearly slipped getting to the top. I grabbed the top and got up, gasping. "Twenty seconds!" Jordan called. "Hurry!"

Hurrying was the last thing I wanted to do, but the beam needed to be crossed. Trusting to habit, I stepped out, taking the curve as a way to wrap my feet around the surface instead of as a challenge to my balance. I was nearly three-quarters of the way across when my right foot slipped a bit, and my balance started to go. I got my left foot on the beam but there was no way I'd make the other platform safely. Instead, I pushed as hard as I could with my left foot, aiming with my hands to grab the wood of the far platform. I barely made contact, but it was enough to change the direction of my momentum, which is what I wanted. The rope dangling from underneath I grabbed with my thighs, letting go of the wood to supposedly grab the rope before sliding down nearly uncontrolled, impacting the dirt hard. My ankle rolled as I landed, and I groaned. "Time!"

"Eleven minutes, fifty-eight seconds," Jordan said. "You did it!"

Her elation was replaced a second later as she realized I was crumpled to the ground in pain, massaging my ankle. "What's wrong?"

"Just twisted it I think," I hissed. "Shouldn't have rushed so much. Had two whole seconds to spare."

"Then you know by the rules you lose," Francois said, coming over and offering his hand. "We can’t be injured in the course of our capers. But, since I want to hear Jordan play more than listen to you make your violin sound like a cat being skinned alive, I’ll leave the judgment to our beautiful lady here. Jordan? A win or a loss for Felix?"

"I call it a win," Jordan said. "Now, let's get you inside and get that ankle treated."

Leaning on Francois and Jordan, I hobbled inside, where Francois got me an ice pack. While I was icing my ankle, Charani came back from town. "What foolishness did you three get up to?" she asked when she saw my dusty pants and iced ankle. "No doubt showing off for your new love."

"Guilty as charged, but Francois did make a bet with me," I countered with a grin. "Come now, what would we be if we didn’t stand up to a good bet?"