Charlotte's Tangled Web: L.B. Pavlov (14 page)

Spectators were talking non-stop about what they had just witnessed, and many people were saying that they caught it on videotape. I realized that the cross-country coach from Stanford was standing near me on my left. He had traveled across the country to watch her run. I felt completely helpless.

I was in utter shock. What had just happened? I had just turned the corner after passing the eight-hundred-meter mark of the course, and Katrina was nowhere in sight. Oh my gosh! I felt overwhelming panic wash over my body; I was so far back. What was I going to do? I heard what I always believed to be my mother’s voice in my head: “Charlotte, stay calm. You can figure this out.”

I started to process what had just happened and what I was going to do. I felt outrage growing within me. I never underestimated Katrina’s ability, not for a minute, but beat me fair and square for goodness’s sake. I would be damned if I was going to let someone beat me because they cheated. That was not going to happen. You better watch out, Katrina George, I’m coming after your cheating ass!

Something inside of me had snapped. I was not going to go down without a fight. No way. As I passed the first mile mark, someone yelled my place, and I had moved up into eleventh. I still couldn’t see Katrina, but all I could do was move up one person at a time. I decided to just count people as I passed them and try to move into the top five by the two-mile mark.

Something was happening to me as I passed people. I felt nothing, no pain at all. I was just focused—focused on one single person. I wasn’t going to stop until I caught her. I felt like I was making up time because I was keeping up the pace that I usually ran on my last mile. But it was all or nothing now, I had nothing to lose. I was passing people on every stretch. I knew that I was closing in. I just wondered if there was enough time to pull it off. When I looked up, I saw the two-mile marker a little way ahead. I would have a little over one mile to go once I passed it.

I saw Coach Miroballi up ahead. He somehow must have jogged in to find me. He wouldn’t be able to make it back to the finish line now to see me finish, but he knew he was where I needed him at that moment. I could always count on him.

I saw Katrina; she was in my sights now. I passed the final girl and moved into second place. I saw Katrina turn the corner and look back to see who was behind her. Our eyes met for a brief moment, and I saw complete shock and panic in her eyes. You better be scared, Katrina George, because I’m coming for you. You shouldn’t have gone out so fast, you sneaky little snake, I thought, laughing to myself. Adrenalin was pumping through my body now.

“Charlie!” It was Coach Miroballi’s voice that caught my attention as I approached. “She has an eighteen-second lead on you now. You are closing in on her. You can do this!” I heard him shout as his voice faded away. I thought about what he had said. Could I gain eighteen more seconds with a little over a mile to go? Well, I was going to damn well try. We would be entering the “spectator loop,” as I liked to call it, in eight hundred meters. I needed to go now. Katrina would use the spectators’ cheering to help motivate her to the finish. I needed to close this gap now. I surged. I challenged myself at every turn. I pretended that I was running the last one hundred meters of the race and then start over on each stretch. I would do ten-second surges at a time.

I could hear the cheering, the screaming, and the chaos. I knew my time was running out, and Katrina was distinctly closer in my view. She was approximately fifty meters in front of me. That was the closest I had been to her, even at the start of the race. It fueled me. She was out on the field now, and I was fast approaching.

The last sound that I heard was the voice of Mr. St. John: “Looks like we have a race, folks! Katrina George has approached the field to make her final lap to the finish. And I don’t know how she did it, but Charlie Ford is right behind her! Unbelievable comeback for Charlie Ford! But does she have enough steam to catch her? Let’s cheer these girls to the finish!” he shouted.

My last few minutes of the race were completely silent. The only voice I heard was my mother’s. She was with me, telling me not to give up. I could almost reach out and touch Katrina’s back, and there were less than four hundred meters to go. She was looking back at me every few seconds, which told me that she was scared.

I thought, you’re not so tough without your posse of bullies, are you, Katrina?

Everything was moving quickly. I couldn’t hear the screaming, and I could no longer make out people’s faces; everyone and everything was fuzzy. All I could see was Katrina as she made her final turn. We had one hundred meters to go. I pulled up alongside her, and she had no fight left in her at all. She was defeated; I could tell by the way she reacted—or didn’t react, I should say.

Everything started to spin. I couldn’t feel anything, and my legs seemed to be flying. My entire body was numb. I could see some bright colors right in front of me, which I assumed was the finish chute. It, too, was spinning. I made a final surge and pulled right in front of Katrina, and I hoped to God that what I had just thrown myself into was the chute.

I looked up to make sure that I was, in fact, in the finish chute. I had actually beaten her. I had done it. There were hands on me; they were desperately trying to assist me to stand. I couldn’t feel my legs. I couldn’t feel my arms. The ground was spinning, and I wasn’t getting air. My God, I thought, I can’t breathe. I was forcing myself to stand on what I could only assume were my two feet.

I heard an unfamiliar voice yell loudly in my ear, “Congratulations!” I had won the state meet. I felt like I was gasping for air now. I couldn’t stand on my own; my legs were giving out from underneath me. And then I felt him: two familiar hands grabbed me, and I heard his sweet voice. “Charlotte, I’ve got you, baby, are you OK? Oh my God, you’re bleeding,” he said with panic in his voice. I was safe; I was with Daniel. I could close my eyes for just a minute now.

She had amazed everyone who had witnessed what had happened. I stood at the first aid station, holding her hand after the medics had taken her out of my arms. They set her down and tried to speak to her.

“She’s passed out,” the medic said, concerned.

“What’s her name?” the other medic asked calmly, looking at me.

“Charlotte,” I said. “Is she OK?” I asked nervously.

“Yes, she’ll be fine. Just pushed herself a little hard today, I think,” he said comfortingly, and then he was close to her face. “Charlotte, can you hear me?” he said.

She opened her eyes as if she had just been sleeping. She looked surprised to be there.

She sat up quickly. “I’m fine. I’m sorry, I just couldn’t breathe,” she said and tried urgently to get up.

Her dad had just rushed over to find her. “What’s going on? Is she hurt?” He was panicked and impatient.

“I’m fine, Dad, I was just a little dizzy,” she said softly.

“She should be fine, sir,” the medic said, “but I do want to look at this leg,” he added, looking pointedly at her leg.

We all looked down. Charlotte’s leg was covered in both dried blood as well as fresh blood. Her shoe was soaked in blood that had dripped down her leg during the race. Both medics were working on cleaning it, and they seemed surprised by how deep the cuts were. “Wow! These were some serious spikes. They caught you pretty low on the shin, and they seemed to tear through your leg all the way up to the knee cap.” He continued, “What do you think, Bob, I don’t think these will close on their own?”

Bob, the other medic, looked closely at the wound. “It’s Charlotte, right?” he asked to clarify her name.

“Yes,” she said.

“I think you’re going to need to get this stitched or at the very least glued,” he said in a very kind voice.

“Can’t you just put a few bandages on it?” she asked pleadingly. “It really doesn’t hurt that badly.”

“I’m afraid not, sweetie. This will cause you grief if you don’t get it taken care of. Can someone take her over to the hospital right now?” he inquired.

I heard about eight or nine voices say “yes” at the same time. I turned around and realized that many of Charlotte’s teammates, my parents, my brothers, her brothers, Coach Miroballi, Lenora, Charlotte’s dad, and myself were all gathered around. Everyone was concerned, and everyone was offering to take her to the hospital.

She turned to me. “Daniel, will you take me?” she asked sweetly, smiling at everyone else and hoping she had not hurt anyone’s feelings.

“Charlotte, Daniel can take you, but I will need to meet you at the hospital to sign the insurance forms and fill out paperwork. I’m staying until they take care of it, OK, honey?” her dad said cautiously.

“Thanks, Dad,” she said, giving him an appreciative smile.

Bob turned and looked at me. “Well, if you’re taking her, I suggest that you get that hand of yours looked at as well, son,” he said, looking at me with equal concern. I realized that he was looking at the blood-soaked towel that was wrapped around my hand.

Charlotte looked over at my hand, and she gasped, “Oh my gosh! What happened? Is that from carrying me?” She sounded horrified.

I started laughing. “No! Of course not!” I laughed some more.

“Daniel had a fight with a tree,” Jack said, also laughing.

“Yeah, but I think the tree won,” Devon said, laughing with Jack.

Charlotte frowned at them both. “Um, Bob, do you think you could take a look at it to make sure it’s OK till we get to the hospital?” she inquired.

“It’s a little cut, and it doesn’t hurt at all,” I said, reassuring her.

Bob had just finished wrapping her entire shin in thick gauze to stop the bleeding.

“For you, Charlotte, I’d be happy to. By the way, that was quite a race you just ran, little lady.” He winked at her.

As Bob unwrapped my towel and began cleaning my hand, everyone started talking to Charlotte about the race. She was calm and humble in the face of all the compliments, and she was more worried about my hand than she needed to be. Once my hand was cleaned up, Bob said it probably didn’t need any further medical treatment. It would just be sore for a few days and probably have a lot of bruising. I had no intention of having it looked at, so I thought that was great news.

Charlotte’s name was being called over the sound system. They were doing the awards ceremony, and they were looking for her.

I went to pick her up. “Absolutely not!” she snapped. “I will go get glued back together, but I ran a race with this cut, I can most certainly walk up there by myself.”

Coach Miroballi agreed. “We certainly don’t need Katrina and her pack of bullies thinking they have harmed her. She showed them how tough she was, let her finish with a bang.”

“Thanks, Coach Miroballi,” Charlotte said, and she hopped up.

She turned and gave Bob and the other medic hugs and thanked them both for their kindness. She grabbed my hand and marched across the field to where they were announcing the winners and presenting the awards. We all stood with her until her name was called.

As Charlotte walked up to receive her award, all of the athletes and spectators who were sitting on the ground watching the ceremony suddenly stood up. They all clapped and cheered for her and all that she had accomplished. She was beaming as she stood at the podium. The number two spot on the stage was empty. Katrina George was not one of the girls disqualified, but she was obviously too ashamed to show her face—or at least that’s what I believed to be true.

Four of the Sentinel girls were disqualified because they had physically touched Charlotte in some way. They couldn’t prove the others had done anything wrong, although everyone knew it to be true. Because of the disqualifications, the Sentinel team did not win the state championship, and neither did Katrina George.

As we were walking to the truck, Charlotte turned to me. “Are you hungry? I’m starving!” she said enthusiastically.

“You’re going to the hospital. I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work, Charlotte,” I said.

“Are you serious? Don’t you think that’s a little over the top? Let’s wait and see how it looks in the morning,” she pleaded.