by Eva Luxe
With that, Savannah gracefully slipped away from her teammates and navigated her way through the Estonian contingent, despite Logan’s voice urging her to return.
An Ethiopian, a distance runner judging by his slight build, intervened and stopped Savannah. “Hey USA, what’s good? I’m Degaulle, Georgia Bulldogs, track and cross country. You play basketball?”
Savannah, towering over him, smiled warmly and accepted his offered hand. “Savannah. I play soccer. Florida State. Now if you’ll excuse me, Mr. Bulldog, I’m on a mission for a friend.”
Savannah pressed on, Degaulle’s voice fading into the cacophony of voices as he tried to shout out his room number in the Village.
The Fijian flag-bearer was startled by the appearance of a statuesque American athlete in front of him, and he straightened up and adjusted his costume.
“Strange question, I know, but do you have a Solomon on your team?”
“Um, yeah, yes, we have I think two. I don’t personally know every member of our team, but yes, one plays rugby and the other one I know of plays judo.” He turned and scanned his group for them.
“Judo, the judo Solomon. Which one is he?”
Savannah watched the man she was talking to point at one of the blue-shirted Fijians and signal him to come over and join them.
Suddenly, a man appeared at Savannah’s side. “I have to ask you to rejoin your team, please.”
Savannah rose a single finger and held it in front of his face to quiet him as she watched Solomon move through the crowd. Savannah heard the security guard at her side speaking into a walkie-talkie and knew her time was limited.
Solomon walked with a smooth, unhurried gait, unmistakably athletic. He appeared before Savannah and met her dark eyes with his own. The two held the eye contact for a moment longer before even the uber-confident Savannah had to look away. His square jaw and piercing gaze was just too much.
“Hi, I’m an American, a soccer player. My best friend is…”
Solomon interrupted.
“Logan Lowery.” He leaned in close to Savannah’s ear and his breath so near her neck made her own breath catch.
Stop it! Savannah’s brain commanded her body.
“Yes, actually. How did you…?” Savannah asked.
“You’re Savannah Reeves. I know all about the USA team. And you’re friends with Logan. How’s my girl?” He extended a hand, which Savannah shook.
At that point, two security guards joined the first who attempted to relocate the wayward American athlete.
“Miss, we must insist that you remain with your nation.”
As Savannah was gently led away and back toward her group, she got off a parting shot.
“Logan says hello. Good luck!”
Confused by the exchange, Solomon watched her depart and tried to spot Logan through the forest of humanity, but without success.
“She was hot, bro. Who was that?” Solomon’s roommate, Markus asked.
“Friend of my girlfriend. Maybe. Hopefully. I don’t know.”
“Is she a single friend of your girlfriend?” Markus asked, hopefully.
“No idea. But way out of your league anyway, brother.”
Markus quashed that notion. “I’ll get laid in the Village before you do, bro. Want to bet on it?”
“Nope,” Solomon replied, still monitoring the Americans for a shock of curly blonde hair. “Not looking to get ‘laid’. I have my sights set higher than that.”
* * *
Savannah returned to find Logan hiding behind the collective height of the men’s volleyball team. “Savannah! What did you do?”
“Just a little, what would you call it, reconnaissance? You should thank me. He is hot. You’re lucky we’re friends, girl.”
“I don’t feel lucky! What did you say? Things are… complicated with us.” Logan looked at her friend. “Isn’t he gorgeous?”
Savannah laughed. “He is. And so are you. You should make babies together after this is over. Little fighting judo soccer playing babies.”
Logan laughed, so grateful to have a friend like Savannah and even more grateful to be sharing this kind of moment with her.
Savannah and Logan checked each other’s appearance before walking out onto the biggest stage onto which either one of them had ever set foot. The eyes of the world were watching, and the roar of the crowd for Team USA had both girls, and the rest of their team, beaming with pride.
Chapter 25 - Solomon
Solomon was a ball of nervous energy, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he did before a match. He’d never felt so alive. He reflected back on the past few years as he joined his team on their lap; the story of his birth, his childhood in Fiji, his adolescence in the United States, his improbable rise to the Olympics. The Olympics? He dug a thumbnail into his right index finger to convince himself he wasn’t dreaming. He wiped a single tear from his cheek as he walked, wishing his mom and dad could be there to experience the moment with him.
And still, even with all of that weighing on him, he also still thought of Logan. He needed to see her while they were here. No matter what she said.
As Team Fiji rounded the far turn, he caught site of the Americans crowded in the infield among the other nations. He had tried to spot Gavin and his Fijian family in the stands, but without luck. Knowing they were there would have to suffice.
Daydreaming about the spectacle they must be watching, and how far it was from the village where he grew up, he glanced over at the assembled Americans and he finally saw her.
Logan.
She was with her team and they’d already left the stage and were waiting for whatever happened next.
He approached her and the team and he immediately was relieved that Logan appeared happy to see him. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it briefly before introducing him to her teammates.
“You met Savannah,” she said, winking at her friend. “This is Tara. And Alyssa. And the twins, Allie and Angie DeCarlo…”
One of the twins spoke.
“Wow, it really is you,” Allie said. “You’ve grown up. Not enough, but still…” Allie gave Solomon a look that bothered Logan, a look of lustful appraisal.
Solomon was confused, looking each twin in the eye and then returning his gaze to Logan and shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sorry, do I know you from somewhere?”
“Maybe not us,” Angie explained. “But you definitely know our brother.”
Appearing behind Allie DeCarlo as her sister spoke was their brother, decked out in his Team USA swag – Adonis DeCarlo.
“You in the ninety kilo weight class?” Adonis asked Solomon while Logan tried to process the exchange happening over and around her.
“You know I am,” Solomon replied, the smooth, island tone of his voice replaced by an aggressive, barely restrained fury.
“Smart move, going with Fiji. Only way you’d make the Olympics in our weight class,” Adonis condescended while his sisters snickered.
Solomon balled his fists tightly, took a deep breath, and let them relax. This was not at all how he pictured how his reunion with Logan would go.
A reprieve for both Logan and Solomon was granted in the form of Leah Beierle, complete with her hair dyed white and covered with red and blue stars. “Hey, what’s up, what am I missing over here?”
“Oh, nothing, just catching up with an old friend of our brother’s,” Allie replied.
Adonis and Solomon were locked in a stare down, the intensity of which was starting to draw the notice of other athletes.
“I’m sure they’ll have plenty of time to reminisce. We’re all going to be here for a few weeks, right?” Leah stepped up and introduced herself to Solomon. “I’m Leah. You came over to talk to my girl Logan, right? Can’t blame you, she’s pretty hot. Unfortunately, she’s only into guys. You kids be careful, use protection, take your vitamins, all that good stuff. Don’t worry, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest were just leaving, right?” Leah gestured at the three DeCarlos, who dis
persed slowly, snickering at Solomon.
Logan couldn’t help but to burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, you have to forgive Leah, too many head balls. She’s not all there.”
Leah leaned in and kissed Logan on the cheek before doing a pirouette and wandering back into the crowd. “Don’t stay up too late. Game tomorrow!”
“She seems…nice?” Solomon chuckled.
“So, what was that all about with the twins and their brother?” Logan asked.
“Their brother is a judoka. He’s the American in my weight class. He’s really good. But also a complete prick.”
“It runs in the family. I can’t stand those two. They’re great players, but I don’t think they have a friend on the team besides each other,” Logan explained. “Will you fight their brother?”
“I sure hope so. I’ve been wanting to get back on the mat with him. My first match is tomorrow, against a Slovenian guy. We’ve fought twice in tournaments before, I beat him the last time, he beat me the first time. He’s good, but I can win. Hey, nice game against New Zealand.”
“Thanks. Were you there?” Logan couldn’t believe it. She’d felt his presence all around her, and now she knew why.
“No, I wasn’t here yet, I was in the air. I watched the highlights, though. You were amazing.”
Logan began to answer, but the roar of the crowd became deafening as Brazil’s team entered the stadium to raucous applause. Everyone began to move as the stewards adjusted the teams to make room for the host nation.
Solomon leaned in close, speaking directly into Logan’s ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you, Logan. I need to see you. Tonight.”
It was Logan’s turn to shout over the noise, right into Solomon’s ear. “We’re in building J.”
With that, Logan surprised them both by kissing Solomon, deeply and with the answer to the question he hadn’t been brave enough to ask her.
Solomon looked all at once like a puppy given his first slab of steak, giving Logan an adorable, childish grin as he turned to return to Team Fiji.
* * *
The first round of the ninety kilo class of men’s judo at the 2016 Rio Olympics went according to plan. Judoka from the Far East dominated the action, with powerhouse Japanese and South Korean athletes claiming easy victories in the morning. Adonis DeCarlo suffered two early “shidos” or penalty warnings, putting him in danger of a disqualification, and then found himself caught in a choke hold by a feisty Australian opponent, but the American recovered and pulled out the victory.
Solomon and Gavin sat in the stands watching the action, taking mental notes on each victor, analyzing strengths and weaknesses of potential opponents. The inactivity made Solomon fidget, so he went to the locker room to get his heart pumping with a light workout. He caught a monitor near the locker room showing highlights of the day’s action, and as Gavin waited impatiently, Solomon held him up with a palm in the air, hoping for some results from women’s soccer. He wasn’t disappointed, watching European powerhouse France attack the United States time and again, only to be denied by the goalkeeper. Logan’s hair and hustle made her easy to identify, and Solomon was especially impressed watching her chase down a two-on-one break away at a full sprint, sliding at the last second to deflect a pass that would have beaten Leah Beierle and sent a French striker through alone on goal.
In the waning minutes of a scoreless match, Angie DeCarlo gathered up a loose ball in midfield and worked a neat give-and-go with Lori Gallagher to set her free near the edge of the penalty area. She shot low and hard, the ball deflecting off the inside of the post and into the goal. Solomon rolled his eyes at the fact that it was a DeCarlo that made it happen, but he was excited for Logan to have been part of another victory, and another shutout.
Gavin practically dragged Solomon down the hallway, clinching and grappling with him in an empty equipment room they found past the locker rooms. When both men were satisfied that Solomon was loose and ready, he returned to the arena and was shortly called to the mat.
With Logan’s smell and taste on his mouth from the previous night, Solomon stepped onto the mat with an angry stare for his opponent. He knew Adonis was watching and he knew his family was there in the arena, and he wanted to impress them both.
After a brief feeling out period, the Slovenian and Fijian locked up together, jockeying for position. Just when it seemed Solomon would be tripped, he spun away and dropped down, hooking his opponent’s leg and depositing him on the mat. The referee signaled for an “ippon,” or instant win, meaning Solomon would advance to the round of sixteen.
In judo, it could happen just that quickly. Four years of training and pain, cruelly gone in a heartbeat. The Dutch entry, an Olympic veteran and semifinalist in 2012, awaited Solomon the following day. Solomon had faced him once and lost, but that had been over a year ago.
Solomon celebrated victory with his family and spent some time with them after his bout, but his mind kept wandering back to the Village, to the J dorms, and as always…to Logan.
Chapter 26 - Logan
Logan limped her way up the stairs to the room she shared with her three teammates. She’d spent the afternoon picking herself up off the ground, the game against France a melee masquerading as a soccer match. She had a series of bruises down the back of her right calf muscle from where she’d been stepped on by a French striker and the side of her left thigh showed evidence of her goal-saving slide. All she wanted was to sleep until the Colombia match, three days hence.
Just as she crawled into bed, slipped in her ear buds, and opened her book, she and Savannah, checking e-mail on her laptop, heard a knock on the door. Savanah opened it to find teammate Leah Beierle standing there, with Solomon Kano in tow.
“I found a lost puppy outside who looks like he needs a good home,” Leah said, smiling as Solomon stood sheepishly behind her.
Savannah turned to Logan, who was lying in bed behind her. “Are you accepting visitors, Logan?”
Logan leaned over to see who was in the hallway and she feigned indecision. “I don’t know…did he win today?”
“He did.” Solomon’s deep voice had a smile in it as he strode proudly into the room.
“She knew that. After our match she couldn’t wait to check the judo on her phone. We all know you won,” Savannah rolled her eyes and laughed as Logan threw a pillow across the room at her.
Solomon bent down and hugged Logan, sitting down at the foot of her bed. “I saw your highlights today. Tough game. Great result, yeah?”
“Show him your legs, girl.” Savannah suggested to Logan.
“Didn’t you tell me you thought I had good legs?” Logan asked Solomon. “What do you think now?” She rolled on her side to show the bruises lower down and the huge raspberry up nearer her backside.
“Those are war wounds. Battle scars. You should be proud. Your legs just look better like that,” Solomon opined.
“You’re crazy,” Logan declared.
“Okay, Solomon, I have to confess, I don’t know karate from judo or any of it. How does it work? Do you have to knock your opponent out?” Savannah rose to her feet and pantomimed a boxer throwing jabs and then she sent a kick whistling through the air and stood over an imaginary downed opponent.
Solomon laughed heartily. “No, and in fact any of that stuff would get you a ‘hansoku-make’, a disqualification. But that kick looked pretty fierce. Judo means ‘gentle way’. It’s a combat sport, but without any striking; no punches or kicks. What we’re trying to do is control our opponent with throws, takedowns, and submissions.”
“So it isn’t really practical then, is it? I don’t want to disrespect you, but it’s not something you could use in a street fight, it’s just for a sport?” Savannah asked.
Solomon’s demeanor changed, the laughter in his voice replaced by a serious tone. “Oh no, it’s definitely a serious fighting art and definitely stands up in the real world. If somebody on the street picked a fight with me and I threw him on his back on t
he concrete and followed it up with a choke hold or by breaking his arm, I think he’d lose interest in beating me up pretty quickly, don’t you?”
Wincing, Logan stood up from where she was sitting on the bed and twisted her torso back and forth to loosen up. “Show me a throw. I want to learn judo so the next time somebody tries to kick me on the field I’ll know what to do.”
“I can’t, it’s not that simple,” Solomon explained. “A big part of our training, believe it or not, is ‘ukemi’, learning how to fall properly so that we don’t get injured in training. Can you imagine the scandal if you had to miss the rest of the Olympics because you were injured by a judoka demonstrating an uchi mata? I don’t want to be the Tonya Harding to your Nancy Kerrigan.”
Savannah and Solomon laughed, but Logan looked perplexed. “Oochie who?”
“Uchi mata. It’s a judo throw. There are sixty-seven different throws and trips we use, and each one has a counter, some multiple counters. If you guys come to watch, expect to be confused. Lots of times it looks like two guys in white robes hugging, and then suddenly one of us is on his back on the mat and the match is over. The matches here are one round, five minutes long, and we’re just trying to get the other guy on his back on the mat. If a throw is clean, fast and perfect, it’s an instant win. That’s called an ‘ippon’. If it’s not quite an ippon, but still good, then it’s a ‘waza-ari’. Two of those in a match is the same as an ippon. There can also be tap outs like you see in ultimate fighting, and judoka can be disqualified for things like throwing punches, playing too defensively, other infractions. Typically, the referee signals the fight to begin, the two judoka meet in the center of the mat, and we grapple with each other and work for position until one of us can control the other and get him to the mat. It sounds easy, but the defense at this level is nearly impenetrable. Just know this – if my hand gets raised at the end, that’s a good thing.”
Solomon’s primer on judo finished, Logan threw her arms round his neck.
“I’ll drag as many of us as I can to watch you tomorrow. Except the twins. But you’ll have a loud group of soccer players rooting for you.” She kissed him and suddenly wished Savannah wasn’t there, so she could do more.
