Annie CXVIII: Pentathalon

(Chronological index: Not long after Game Show)

"Ray?" He turned at the sound of his name. Ruth had the sylphs on her lap and shoulders, watching TV. He glanced as he entered the room, not surprised to see they were watching the Atlanta Olympics.

"Yeah?" he replied.

"Pet had a question about the Pentathlon?"

"Sure, Pet, what is it?"

"Yes," she said. Ray raised an eyebrow.

"What was your question?" he asked.

"What is it?" she replied.

"Third base," Buttercup and Annie said together. Light dawned.

"You mean, what is the Pentathlon," he said.

"Yeah," Pet said. "Because they show guys shooting at targets but talk about how well they did fencing and one's shown training in a swimming pool and one's riding a horse and they're all running and it's so confusing, Ray. I mean really. What IS IT?"

He sat down on the couch before she finished. Ruth handed the blonde over to Ray while she was still talking. He waited a moment to see if she was finished asking the question.

"Okay," he said. It's a combined event. That means there's more than one discrete sport in the total event.

"In this case, there're five."

"Like the pentagon!"

"Exactly," he said, without a trace of irony. Buttercup smiled up at the human as he took her daughter's question and comprehension seriously.

No one in the house belittled Pet or said anything was over her head. Annie had even taught her how to read. Buttercup had never thought it was necessary for a sylph, and feared it would be depressing. All those worlds she could never hope to move through, those experiences she couldn't share.

But she was growing up in this house, and it was amazing to watch. Right now, she was chewing her lip and trying to follow Ray's explanations.

She used to get frustrated when things like this came up, as it was hard for her to understand. But she was more confident now. Either because they treated her as someone that could learn anything, or because she knew they'd keep explaining it until she grasped it.

He paused and scratched his head. She wasn't getting anything about the Olympic committee and the Modern Games.

"Cosplay!" Annie shouted.

"Of course!" he smiled. "Think of the Napoleanic Wars."

"Sharpe's Rifles!" Pet cheered. "Boromir leading riflemen around Europe to find the treasure of the Freemasons!"

"Close enough," he said happily. "Now, during the 19th century wars, an officer like Sharpe might get caught behind enemy lines.

"To get back home, he might have a sword fight, he'd certainly have to shoot, he could steal a horse, swim across a river and run like the dickens for home."

He paused and just looked down at Pet. Buttercup's throat felt thick. She hoped Pet could figure it out, but the simple fact that he expected her to, and gave her a chance to...

She sniffed a bit, quietly. Annie pat her shoulder.

"It's not cosplay," Pet said after a moment. "Because that would require British or French uniforms. It's....

"Okay. The epee fencing is SYMBOLIC of swordfights for freedom, and the target shooting symbolizes a gunfight, and the swimming and show jumping and running all symbolize..." She paused, looking up at Ray. He was nodding, accepting her interpretation.

"By George," Ruth said, in an execrable accent, "I think she's got it!"

"I think she does," Ray said. He kissed Pet on top of her head and handed her to Ruth. Then he had to kiss Annie, just to be fair. Buttercup settled for a wink. Then Ray went out to do wash Denise's car.

The girls went back to watching the television.

"Well," Annie said after a while. "There were no sylphs during the Napoleonic Wars."

"No," Buttercup agreed.

"We're gonna make a Pentathlon?" Pet asked.

------------

"I'm home!" Denise called from the kitchen door. She slung a few groceries onto the kitchen table, then noticed it was covered with yellow stickies and string.

"Yay!" Pet shouted, running across the kitchen floor to fling herself over Denny's sandal. Her owner plucked her off and lifted her up for a kiss snug (a kiss and hug said very quickly).

Denise gestured at the odd collection of tiny writing and graphs and arrangements of string. "What's all this?"

"That's the Olympics," Pet said. "We need a cake."

"Chocolate!" Buttercup's voice called from somewhere the floor.

"A chocolate cake," Pet corrected with a nod.

Denise took a deep breath and started carrying her pet towards the stairs and the bedroom. "Well, I may regret this, Pet, but... What are you talking about?"

"Well, the Pentagon is about Boromir in enemy territory and doing escape things but to get home, not like that escape artist on TV the other night, more like Voyager trying to get home but with pistols instead of phasers."

She paused for a breath as Denise transferred her to a different hand. Both of them were well-rehearsed in carrying on a conversation, and being hugged and petted, while Denise changed clothes. They hadn't noticed that Pet took an extra breath any time she was shifted between hands or shoulders.

And neither of them consciously noticed that Denise shifted Pet around when the sylph's voice indicated a need for oxygen. It was just the way they got through the day.

"Anyway, we're not really behind enemy lines and we can't ride horses but we figured the ultimate test of a sylph's survival ability is to get up on the table and steal some cake and escape before the giants notice and sling us into a Mason jar.

"Oh! And we need a Mason jar."

"You guys used up your pastry budget when the new Dunkin Donuts opened up," Denise said, closing her pants one-handed with the ease of long practice. "So now you're inventing a reason for Olympic cake?"

"No, no, no, no, no, well maybe, but it's for a good cause we're going to establish a sylph Olympic event of confined sports so if they ever have Olympic sylphs we can submit a suggestion."

"I think you mean combined sports?" Denise asked, walking to the stairs.

"Nooooooo," Pet said slowly, thinking and tapping her chin. "No, I'm pretty sure Annie said that sylph events would be confined sports."

---------

The side effects of Hurricane Fran had made life hazardous for sylphs living near the water. Kelly had once more begged for shelter and his tribe was scattered around the first floor of the Foster home.

Right now everyone was gathered in the living room at the starting line. Ruth and Denise formed a careful judges section on folding chairs while blankets folded on the sofa formed bleachers for the attending sylphs.

Ray had been volunteered into being a judge. Annie suggested it, Buttercup approved and Pet made her eyes three times as big and silently threatened a disappointed lip quiver. He was helpless against their coordinated efforts and now stood close to the Start.

He squinted at the 3x5 card that held his script. "The demonstration competition will be...the... The Cake Pentagon...Pentathlon. Contestants will... point... no, gain points in five events. The one with the final score... The highest final score." He paused and shook his head. "Sylph handwriting," he said in a joking tone.

He'd forgotten that usually, his joking comments about Annie were to audiences that were largely human (no pun intended). Right now, there were a couple dozen sylphs listening, along with two humans whose sympathies were entirely with the sylphs.

The booing shook him visibly. "Oh. Right. I'm sorry. I'll just try harder to adapt." He read through the next sentence carefully before speaking much more naturally.

"The winner will be the sylph with the highest total score, which may not reflect wins in individual sections.

"The first will be for the sylphs race from the carrier to the kitchen table and back, six times.

"Competitors are reminded that this is not a dash, but a test of endurance."

The competitors took their positions and started when Ray clapped.

Pet and Cherry took an early lead. Annie jogged beside Bob, Carol, Ted and Violet. Buttercup slogged along at the back.

The youngest sylph's youthful energy kept them in front for two laps. They had a wide lead on the first round, which dropped on the second, then they were tied in last place on the third. They stayed there until the end.

Violet and Annie vied for first place over the third and fourth laps. Then Annie and Bob fought over the fifth.

Sylphs and humans cheered as they rounded the stereo for the final dash to victory.

Which is when Buttercup stopped husbanding her strength and shot forward. With long, clean strides over the layered carpet, she swept past a very surprised Annie to claim the lead.

Ray watched his stopwatch function and called off numbers as the littlethletes crossed the finish line. Ruth and Denise recorded them, then compared numbers to verify accuracy.

Each contestant got half a grape to rehydrate and a one hour rest. Kelly updated the standings on the fridge memo white-board taped to the china cupboard.

The next part was climbing a string taped to the top of the table. Ray and Denise agreed that the sporting budget could afford one string per contestant and they were very carefully measured and attached.

"To hang to within one inch of the floor where the contestants shall begin climbing," Ray read. "The top will extend over the edge of the table and allow six inches of slack between the edge and the portion of tape holding it in place. Taping shall be sufficient to hold the string in place under the strain of at least one contestant. Additional methods of mounting may be used for safety's sake, but the tape will ensure equal settings for all contestants."

The upper body strength of Ted and Bob made an early showing as they surged upwards, but the more petite contestants, Pet and Cherry, caught up quickly. Violet was last as she discovered a fear of heights about halfway up the string. Carol paused to ensure her friend's safety, restarting only when Ray bent to cup hands under the stricken woman.

He never touched her, in accordance with the international rules of Pentathlon Sylph Competitions, but with the feeling of safety, she continued upwards.

Times were recorded by Denise as Ruth read off the stopwatch. Kelly backed up her records.

Third in the course of the competition was the Mason Jar Escape. It assumed the sylph had been caught and temporarily confined to a glass prison.

For quality control, only one jar was used (and it was the only empty one they had). The lid was screwed on exactly one and a half turns, with a line painted on the lid and the bottle. This assured that it was exactly the same tightness each time.

Pet and Cherry's small sizes worked against them in this round. They were too small to brace themselves at the top of the jar to work the lid and had to squirm into the neck. That left them less room to maneuver for turning the lid.

The syphs pressed the inner lid up, gaining traction against the outer ring and turning, grunting with the effort and trying to keep their sweaty skin from sliding down the glass to the bottom of the jar.

The audience grunted and grimaced sympathetically. And what was supposed to be a fun game became uncomfortable for Ray and Denise.

The sylphs could imagine being trapped this way, having the barest of chances to escape. It was almost a horror film.

Ruth missed the byplay and just bit her lower lip along with half the watchers, really feeling the stress of the escape.

Carol had the best time, Annie came in second. Bob nearly didn't come in at all. He went last, by random draw. His strategy was not to climb up at all. He threw himself to the side, violently, tipping the jar over onto its side.

Cries rose from the watchers, cries of 'foul' as much as 'brilliant.' He then knelt by the neck and tried to unscrew the lid.

But while he could get great traction against the ring, so could the table. The lid was trapped between the wood and the jar and would not move.

The tension in the room ratcheted up as his position appeared hopeless. It drove home the impotence most of the sylphs felt from time to time.

After a few moments, Denise and Ray both started to reach forward.

"I think-" Denise said at the moment Ray said 'We'd better-" He smiled and waved for her to go on.

"I think that in the final analysis," she said, "the rules committee will not approve this game unless this tactic is prohibited."

"I agree," Ray said. "I suggest we return him to the opening position and restart his clock."

"And fresh air," Buttercup said.

"Any opposed?" Denise asked the crowd. Sighs of relief and smiles were the unanimous reply. Ray carefully tipped the jar up and opened the lid.

They hadn't poked any holes in the lids out of fear that someone would cut themselves. Between heats, Ray had held a small fan over the jar to cool and ventilate it.

A chagrinned Bob gulped the fresh air and let the heat wash off of him. He finished in sixth place.

---------

"Get To The Floor is the fourth effort," Ray read. "Having escaped the Mason Jar Of Death, the crafty sylph must run from the Efficient Susan to the chair at the head of the table."

He slapped the back of the chair so that everyone would know which one. "They then drop to the cushion." He slapped that.

"From there, they must descend to the floor." He lifted a foot.

"If there's one thing sylphs know," Annie shouted, "it's where the floor is!"

"Quite right," Ray acknowledged. He read along the card.

[i]Allow Annie to snark. Lower foot softly. Walk to the kitchen door and indicate path to the bathroom.[/i]

He complied, walking over to indicate the finish line.

There was plenty of room to run everyone in a single heat, but the safety committee (Buttercup) had worried about someone missing the cushion because they couldn't both land in the center.

In the end, they went rally style. Their start times were staggered by five seconds and their times crossing the finish line were adjusted accordingly.

Violet's jump was comic. She closed her eyes, crossed her fingers, pinched her nose as one diving and jumped.

Pet's enthusiastic jump nearly drove her past the cushion. Denise was forcibly reminded of the 'agony of defeat' ski jumper from Wide World of Sports. At the last second, though, she snagged a loose thread and yanked to a stop at the edge of the seat.

She recovered quickly, but the misstep knocked her out of the top three finishers. Ted threw himself against the toilet bowl with the best time, though Annie might have made first if she hadn't slowed down to avoid a painful porcelain impact finish.

For the last event, Duck and Covet, the living room was congested with furniture, piles of magazines, a milk-crate, a Christmas tree stand, power tools (safely unplugged) and crumpled newspaper.

The event was meant to simulate running from a giant and evading capture. Dodging and weaving were critical as was an awareness of one's surroundings.

Small Lego pieces from a Deathstar playset were secreted throughout the confused mass. The audience watched Ray place them, while the contestants waited with Ruth in the bathroom.

Competitors would have to find one of the eight pieces in order to be allowed to exit the arena. The time they came out would be recorded, with points for first, second and third place. The objects were also worth points, the Light Saber worth the most. The facemask from the T.I.E. Fighter pilot was worth the least.

And finally, Denise would be waving a camera at random across the field, taking pictures without looking. Any sylph that showed up in the resulting picture would lose points.

The crowd went wild when Ray let the sylphs into the field. They dodged, they wove, they hid behind each other when the camera passed overhead. They grabbed surplus toy parts and realized too late it wasn't on The List.

Bob was first to the exit, insisting that a phaser was 'like' a goddamned light saber, wasn't it? Ray was insistent, possibly because of the rules, but likely because his trekker soul was deeply offended.

Cherry came out with the face mask. Ted found the blaster. Annie found the light saber.

The others stumbled out soon enough, then the film was examined.

All sounds stopped as the results were tabulated.

Ray removed the tally board and turned it around. Kelly recorded the results, then they were revealed at once.

Ruth had made medals by use of Lego pieces. She lay foil from Hershey Kisses over the depressions and shoved chocolate into it as a mold. Dental floss was crimped into the foil to allow it to hang like a necklace.

So as Ray was explaining that the Pentathlon was merely a demonstration event, with no medals awarded and let's have a big hand for the competitors, Denise was posting the names of the Gold, Silver, Bronze, Lithium, Californium, Selenium, Thallium and Frosting winners behind his back.

Annie took the Gold, Pet the Bronze and Buttercup the Californium. They were all Aluminum colored, but they knew in their hearts what they'd won.

The humans retired from the arena, then, watching TV in the guest room, leaving a chocolate cake to the assembled sylphs.

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