by M. B. Gerard
“The files I took from Tom’s computer,” Ted continued. “They are gone. I lost them.”
“You lost them?” Amanda was getting annoyed. All the drama and climbing through hotel room windows was in vain?
“It must have happened as I was jumped from the window sill. Or perhaps when I was running outside,” Ted contemplated. “ You were not there, so I had to take a taxi. I could have lost it in there. I was so stressed-out.”
“You mean, anybody could have the files now?”
“Yes,” Ted answered. “Anybody.”
“So, were they as risqué as you thought they would be.”
Amanda had to admit she never really believed Tom was gathering evidence, as Ted had called it. Why would he want to harm the players? He worked for them, after all.
“Yes, yes.” Ted’s voice broke into sobs. Amanda couldn’t believe it.
“Listen, Ted,” she finally said. “I’m on the phone with Elise. Let’s talk about this another time. It’s quite possible that nobody found your memory stick. It probably just got lost and no one has it.”
“Yes,” Ted was still crying.
Amanda hated leaving him like that, but Elise was waiting on the video call giving her questioning looks. After saying good-bye to Ted she turned to Elise again, shaking her head.
“So, he lost the evidence,” she stated. “Not that I believe there was any. He’s just a bit paranoid because Tom likes him.”
“Tom?” Elise was surprised. “I was wondering about that ever since Ted said Tom was stalking him. That’s ridiculous. He is so nice.”
“I know,” Amanda replied. “They would actually make a cute couple, what do you think?”
“Yes,” Elise grinned. “We should set them up somehow.”
***
“I don’t know what to order,” Agnes said. She looked through the menu again, but it was all Japanese to her. With a swift hand movement Morgana snatched the menu from Agnes’s hands.
“Let me take a look,” replied Morgana who had invited Agnes, her fellow French player out for dinner.
She had chosen the famous Yamasuki Fugu restaurant that served Japanese haute cuisine and it had surprised Agnes, as Morgana had never seemed interested in making friends with the other French players. But being the older Fed Cup player Agnes felt a responsibility towards her younger team mates, even towards Morgana who always seemed so independent and aloof.
Agnes watched Morgana closely while she was studying the menu. Apparently she understood the Japanese characters. The younger player let her finger wander over the menu, moved her lips and once in a while nodded. When the waiter approached she shut the menu and looked up at the young man.
“Watashi wa fugu o chūmon suru,” Morgana said in what sounded like perfect Japanese. “Robusutā tenpura, to sake no bin. Korera no josei no tame no onaji.” She made a gesture towards Agnes, and the older player assumed that Morgana was ordering for her, too, which seemed like a good idea.
As soon as the saké arrived they settled into a pleasant conversation about the French team in the Fed Cup competition next year.
“I’ve thought about some useful training methods,” Morgana remarked. “Let’s say practice matches for mental toughness, qui? Two teams with two players each. Two singles matches, one doubles match. But only one set to play. So there is the pressure of a deciding set. But not only winning the set counts but also the shotmaking.”
She took a sip from the small cup. Agnes had begun to listen carefully.
“Let’s say, one player must win five points with dropshots, and the other with backhands down the line,” Morgana said.
She looked up, straight into Agnes’s eyes.
“For winning these points with selected shots they get bonus points. Winning the set 6-4 you get twenty bonus points. Winning it 6-2 you get forty. We might have our very own ranking system within our team.”
She beamed at Agnes but in her eyes was an observant alertness. Agnes managed to hold her gaze but had grown very still. How in the world did Morgana know about the rules of Task Tennis?
The young woman was certainly an expert regarding Tennis Nurse novels but the books only referred to the game Agnes and her fellow players had invented back in the day. It was never explained nor were the rules written down.
“This sounds very interesting,” Agnes said in a neutral voice. “Let’s talk to Bertrand about it.”
She was sure that their Fed Cup captain would dismiss the idea. Of course, he would, and Agnes was relieved by the thought. Task Tennis and all the memories of it belonged to the past. It would only cause tears to bring it up again.
The food arrived, and Agnes couldn’t believe her eyes.
“Blowfish?” Agnes hesitated. “Isn’t blowfish very dangerous?”
“Only if prepared carelessly,” Morgana said. “Then it can be lethal.” She began to eat, but Agnes almost choked on her saké.
“I can’t believe you ordered that,” she said vehemently and pushed the plate away a little.
“This is a famous restaurant,” Morgana said in-between bites. “It wouldn’t be if they killed their customers.”
“Perhaps today is the first time,” Agnes could only stare at Morgana, whose fish didn’t seem poisoned. Maybe the poison didn’t kill instantly.
“The probability is very small,” Morgana mumbled. She looked up to the ceiling beginning to calculate the correct percentage.
With a last look Agnes stared at the blowfish, then decided to go for the tempura. Morgana was really one of a kind. Agnes only hoped that she wouldn’t uncover the hidden blowfish in the Tennis Nurse universe. That one would be lethal indeed, Agnes was certain.
***
“You don’t have to wait for me,“ Mint said. She placed her bag on a chair and looked around for a free treadmill.
“Someone must watch you, young lady,” Evelina Rickenbacher replied. She overlooked the gym and frowned. Mint followed her gaze. There was Gabriella Galloway doing her warm-up routines next to Polly Duke, who looked very sweaty doing pull-ups.
Evelina clearly didn’t belong in this world but after Mint’s getaway in New York City she was determined to keep an eye on her stepdaughter. This meant that Mint, when not busy with practice, working out in the gym or physio, was being taken on shopping sprees around the city. She ended up carrying all the bags back to the hotel rooms which were connected by a door which had to stay open. To make things worse, due to her lower ranking Chili wasn’t playing Tokyo but the European tournaments instead.
Putting on her earphones, Mint stepped onto a treadmill and began her daily work-out, while Evelina Rickenbacher sat down in one of the chairs a little further away where she wasn’t disturbed by smelly, sweaty athletes.
Since she had landed in Tokyo Mint hadn’t spoken to her best friend once, due to the time difference but also because she was never alone. Even in the evenings she wasn’t allowed to leave her room and she didn’t want to talk to Chili when Evelina was in the next room and able to overhear her conversation.
Why hadn’t she bothered to learn Spanish when she had the opportunity? It could have been their secret language. The desperation brought tears to her eyes. Brushing them away she began to run faster.
She didn’t see Natsumi approaching and when the Japanese player poked her in the side Mint almost jumped off the treadmill in surprise.
“Hello,” Natsumi laughed while stepping onto the next treadmill.
“Hey,” Mint tried to smile at the Japanese player. She had always been nice to Mint and for a while had been taking her and Chili under her wings.
“What’s up?” Natsumi must have noticed her affliction, but she was smart enough to understand that it had to do with Mint’s new watch dog. She kept on smiling.
“I can’t go anywhere,” Mint replied under her breath and without looking up at Natsumi. “She won’t let me out of the hotel room.”
Natsumi seemed rendered speechless by these revelations. She didn’t
say a word but when they finished the treadmill session she gestured for Mint to listen.
“Let’s go over to your stepmom,” Natsumi suggested. “Just nod. Whatever I say. Ok?”
Mint looked back at Evelina Rickenbacher. She didn’t want Natsumi to go over to her. It made her uneasy to even think of Evelina would getting to know one of Mint’s gay friends, let alone the craziest of all of them.
“Mrs. Rickenbacher,” Natsumi smiled at Evelina.
She folded her hands and made a little greeting bow in front of Mint’s stepmom. Mint was surprised. Natsumi’s English was flawless, but now she spoke with a very bad, unidentifiable Asian accent.
“So good to see Mint. So good,” Natsumi said with a smile. She was still nodding her head. “Mint always very nice.”
Mint couldn’t believe her ears. But Evelina was delighted with the young and polite Japanese.
“I want to invite Mint for traditional Japanese dinner,” Natsumi continued. “Tonight. With my family. Very nice.”
Evelina hesitated but then she looked at Natsumi and Mint knew exactly what was going on in her stepmother’s head. Categorizing Natsumi as “harmless Asian” she finally gave her permission for a night out.
***
Observing a blister on her hand, Angela sat down in a chair and let out a long sigh. Stephanie laughed. They had just hit for an hour and relaxed courtside.
“What’s up?” she teased Angela. “Missing Rufino?”
“Oh, please,” Angela laughed. “I tried long enough. I really need to take advantage of the off-season to find another object of desire. This season has been absolutely disappointing regarding to guys.”
Stephanie nodded. “You want one of mine? They are so irritating. I even consider going lesbian.” She laughed out loudly and Angela joined in. Sometimes the gay girls seemed to have advantages on the tour if only for dating chances. “Have you notice how Elise has changed? She used to be so shy off court.” The two German girls took a moment to think about young Elise.
“She did,” Angela said with a smile. “Amanda is really good for her. But they are not really cautious about it, aren’t they? I guess, they are just really happy and don’t care.”
Stephanie put her feet up on her bag then crossed her legs. The break would obviously last a bit longer than planned.
“Pretty gutsy,” she admitted. It was definitely not what Stephanie had expected from Elise.
“I wonder how their managements view the relationship,” Angela pondered. “This would be big, if word got out, don’t you think?”
Stephanie nodded. “Elise is doing great at the moment. She could reach the Top 20 soon and Amanda’s a Grand Slam champion now. So the press might be interested in both of them.”
“Yes,” Angela agreed. “When was the last time two highly ranked players had a known relationship?”
“That would be a precedent,” Stephanie said. “This has never happened before.”
***
“Hello!” Gabriella Galloway was standing in the almost empty restaurant of the players’ hotel and waving to Morgana but the French player seemed engrossed in her studies and didn’t look up. On her table several piles of books were leaving only the tiniest space for a coffee mug and a plate with a sandwich.
“Morgana!” Gabriella yelled over the table and this time the loud exclamation made Morgana jump. Startled, she let go of her pen which landed at her feet. Gabriella bent over to pick it up.
“I’m sorry I didn’t want to scare you,” she said sitting down opposite Morgana. “What are you doing?”
Morgana took a deep breath and looked at her friend.
“Working on Tennis Nurse. I had a very interesting conversation with Agnes. Do you want know about it?”
Gabriella barely had time to nod before Morgana took a deep breath and began explaining her latest discoveries.
“Agnes pretended to know nothing about Task Tennis,” Morgana exclaimed. “I confronted her with some of the rules but she wouldn’t admit to knowing them. But I know she does.” Morgana paused. She waited for Gabriella to inquire further about her investigations. Gabriella thought she would do Morgana the favor.
“How?”
“By comparing the handwriting,” Morgana spouted immediately. “I have found out that the person who wrote down the rules of Task Tennis is none other than Agnes Lion.”
Gabriella checked her watch. She was running late already.
“I guess the central piece is Monica,” Morgana continued without looking up. “You know these stories aren’t pure coincidences. They’re about us. Monica knows the author. I’m absolutely sure of that. She must be the one who provides the author with all the details about the players.”
Gabriella sighed. All she wanted was to ask Morgana for another Tennis Nurse novel. She didn’t want to hear a lecture about Morgana’s strange research.
“Gabriella, what are you doing? The court’s available! We don’t have it for the whole day.” Gabriella turned around. Her hitting partner was waiting there by the door, two big racquet bags at his feet. She shot him an angry look. Why would he draw attention to her at the very moment when she was about to borrow a Tennis Nurse novel. Getting up, Gabriella apologized to Morgana. “I’m sorry, I have to go. We’ll catch up on that later, okay?”
Morgana nodded. She was already concentrating on her research again. Gabriella figured the French woman didn’t want to waste time with chatting. Too much information was boiling in her head now and she was probably afraid to forget some if she didn’t write it all down immediately.
“Would you mind if I borrowed a novel?” Gabriella nonetheless asked. “I’m done with the last one and I have nothing to read right now.”
Morgana followed her friend’s gaze to the several Tennis Nurse books put down on the table near the bag the French player took everywhere with her. Morgana shrugged and grabbed one before handing it to the American.
“Sure. Take this one. It’s a new one,” she said absentmindedly.
Gabriella smiled brightly. She was about to leave when Morgana suddenly leaned back, looking at the American.
“So, you are Gabriella,” she stated thoughtfully, more to herself than to the Galloway. Shooting Gabriella a last look she turned back to her novel.
***
Waiting for Natsumi, who was chatting up a girl at the entrance of the sushi restaurant, Amanda and Mint looked at each other and grinned.
“I can’t believe that of all girls, the one your stepmother trusts is Natsumi,” Amanda snorted. “Just look at her!”
Mint chuckled. She had her hands in the pockets of her jeans, was leaning against the wall and looking in Natsumi’s direction. She was sure that within a minute the player would come back with a new phone number in her directory.
“What can I say? Natsumi played the role of the sweet Japanese girl to perfection.”
Amanda laughed, still shaking her head in disbelief. Natsumi said good-bye to her new acquaintance and turned around.
“Alright, ladies. I’m starving!”
It was time for a traditional Japanese dinner, as Natsumi had advertised it when she had invited Amanda. With her usual exuberance, Natsumi pushed the door open and entered the restaurant followed by Amanda and Mint. The lobby, like the rest of the place from what they could tell, was plunged in semi darkness and traditional music. While Natsumi was giving her name to the hostess, Mint turned towards Amanda. She was looking at the menu on the wall.
“What is this Nyo-thing? It seems they have nothing else,” she wondered. “I only know California rolls.”
Amanda shrugged her shoulders. As much as she loved Japanese cuisine, she couldn’t remember having seen any Nyotaimori on a menu before.
“She told me we would get a very special sushi. Perhaps a local fish?”
Natsumi turned around to them and gestured for them to follow the hostess, who led them to their table. As she looked around, Amanda recognized that it was indeed a strange restaurant. B
esides the lack of light that made it hard to see the slightest thing, heavy curtains seemed to separate every table in a way that prevented her from seeing customers and dishes.
When the hostess stopped at one curtain, Amanda grew uncomfortable. Natsumi’s big grin implied that Amanda would probably be unable to tell anyone about this evening. The Japanese girl lifted the curtain and motioned for the group to step inside, and one look at the table confirmed for Amanda that she had been right. Taking her eyes off the inimitable sight, she glanced at Natsumi who overlooked the scene with pride and a delighted grin, and then to Mint whose mouth had literally dropped to the floor. Lying on the table was a naked Asian girl, pretty and young, covered by sushi and flowers in some strategic places.
“What on earth?” Mint stared at the girl and grinned. Amanda blinked twice. Then she looked back at Natsumi.
“O shokuji o o tanoshimi kudasai,” Natsumi said and gestured for them to sit down at the table. Amanda hesitated. “There’s a naked girl on the table. With sushi on her body.” As if Amanda’s remark couldn’t have been dumber, Natsumi rolled her eyes and shrugged.
“We’re having Nyotaimori. It’s body sushi,” Natsumi explained. “A body serve, if you like.”
Natsumi pushed Amanda towards the girl lying on the table. The Australian almost tripped over and grabbed the table at the last minute, losing herself in a mumbling of apologies to the Asian girl for brushing her wrist.
“Oh, Elise won’t hold it against you!” Natsumi sighed observing her friend’s awkwardness. “You won a Grand Slam. It’s a celebration!”
Swallowing hard, Amanda stared at the sushi placed on the girl’s belly button. She tried not to look left or right. Mint on the other hand had overcome her initial surprise and dug in.
“Great idea,” she said across the living table to Natsumi. “Now, where is the wasabi? You can’t have enough hotness, right?”
