Author's Notes: I meant to get this out much sooner, but life has been kicking my butt. Exam prep, job interviews, formal dance preparation, a theater performance, you name it! Maybe I have a bit too much on my plate. Oh well, at least I finally got this published!
Fun fact, this was one of the chapters I was having trouble hurdling back when I took my little hiatus. It feels so good to have it done. There's loads of scenes I'm looking forward to writing coming up soon, so hopefully my excitement will help me crank out these next few chapters relatively quickly.
And before I leave you to the story, I wish everyone who celebrates a very happy (admittedly very belated) Easter! He is risen!
Present Day
Leanelle Kieta had always loved the Tetherball World Championship. She had never been particularly interested in watching other sports, but tetherball was different. The Trippoli Tigers were one of the best teams in the world; they had been for as long as she could remember. And thus, every year when the tournament came around, the whole city would explode with color and cheer in solidarity with their team.
It was Lea's mother's idea to begin traveling to the games and summarizing them in the Trippoli Times. Every year, she would regale the Trippolian citizens with vivid and patriotic descriptions of the Tiger's accomplishments and failures, from match one all the way to the finals. She became so experienced in writing sports commentary, her articles became a staple of the tetherball competing season in Trippoli. It was not uncommon for citizens to keep a collection of their favorite games; little squares of print cut from the newspaper and graffitied with red marker as fans circled the most memorable moments.
Yet despite all Mrs. Kieta wrote, she never had the long awaited chance to announce a championship victory for the Tigers. Though there were many years they made it to the finals, and almost as many where they came just within reach of success, Mrs. Kieta's articles always concluded with a disappointing end that the Tiger's had played well, but not well enough.
One might expect such repeated failure to discourage the great city, but it only fueled their patriotic flame. Convinced that if they only cheered hard enough or simply added another colored pennant to their decorative strings, victory would be inevitable.
Mrs. Kieta always offered to bring Lea along to watch the games in person, but it was for this reason that Lea always declined. She much preferred to stay at home for the tournament, sitting beside her grandfather and amongst her father's zealous friends who would make exuberant cries of "Yes!" and "So close!" on even the dullest of plays. The colors, the sounds, the community, the food; it was all around her, filling her heart with amused wonder. For the few months of tetherball season, it was as if she began living in a whole other world.
The Kieta family had long awaited a year when the finals would be hosted in Trippoli itself, excited by the prospect of getting to watch the game all together. And now that year had come, but Lea walked the crowded streets alone.
On the surface, her town hadn't changed. The energy was still high, the talk still lively, and the suffusive smells of pub food still aromatic and tempting. It should have been just as fun as any other year; in fact, it ought to have been more so, as everyone was thrilled to finally be the home team. But Lea was not enjoying herself. Behind the bright colors there lurked a slippery shadow of malice, an unsettling presence of evil. She had been able to see it since the takeover, and no matter the lengths it took to dress itself up in reckless fun, it could not escape Lea's notice.
The cobbled streets leading towards the center of town had been closed off to motorized vehicles so the foot traffic could interact more freely. To any newcomer, it would be far too easy to get lost in the winding labyrinth of shops and restaurants, but Lea had the way memorized since she was 10. She moved quickly, stopping only once as she passed a pair of monochrome acrobats contorting themselves with the limberness of putty. A crowd had gathered around them, and Lea paused to observe the spectacle. The black-clad performer pulled off his hat mid-twist and stretched it out towards Lea expectantly, and she produced a meager amount of coins after a great deal of rummaging through her pockets. The man grinned, winked, and did a joyous backflip. It was the frivolous kind of spectacle Lea would've normally adored.
When she finally reached the center of town, cramped alleyways lined by three storied buildings gave way to a wide, circular expanse teeming with life. The indoor stadium lay at the far side of the stony plaza; its impressive height casting shadows on the waiting people below. Flags bearing team colors billowed in the air, large ones hoisted on poles surrounding the stadium and other smaller ones clutched in the fists of the bustling crowd.
Lea joined the throng of people waiting in line for a ticket. She'd purchased hers far ahead in advance, but since Reynie had shown up, they'd lain forgotten in the bottom of her bag. As the bored teenager scanned her admission, Lea felt a pair of eyes watching her. Standing near the entrance, staring right at her, was a police officer, dressed in the trademark suit and sporting a pair of square glasses. Sharpe, if she remembered correctly. He did nothing to stop her, but he didn't bother hiding the walkie talkie he spoke into as she moved through the tall archway into the dim stadium.
The game was just over halfway through, and judging by the enthused cheers of the crowd, it was playing out in favor of the home team. Two players were fiercely punching the ball back and forth in the sandy playing field, set down in the center of the cavernous room. The metal gate surrounding the drop looked precariously inefficient as fans leaned over it, jockeying for a good view. Lea took great care in avoiding that area.
Instead, she tramped her way up to the top row of seats and inched past fans, muttering a quiet "Excuse me,". In one of the seats about halfway down the aisle there sat an old man with a graying, toothbrush mustache. He made a poor attempt to conceal his frailty under a velvet vest and a shiny, jewel topped cane. In the seat beside him was a large white cat, whose immense size could be attributed both to pampering from its owner and a voluminous coat of fur. The beast's yellow eyes were beady and glared at everyone but it's owner. As Lea approached, it gave her a warning snarl.
"Hello Pumpkin. It's good to see you," she greeted. The cat did not say anything back, nor give any indication that it too was happy to see her. The old man, however, tore his eyes away from the game, and smiled at her.
"Ah Lea," he quickly lifted his cat from the seat and gestured for her to take it's spot, "I was wondering when you were going to show up,"
Lea brushed several of Pumpkin's sheddings off the chair before sitting. "Yes, I apologize for my tardiness, Mr. Livingstock"
"Oh, no no," the man gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "I wasn't waiting. Now put a smile on, today isn't a day to feel sorry! It's the day Trippoli will finally win the World Championship!"
"That's funny, I could've sworn you'd said that last year,"
He gave a small hmph of indignation. "Well, I mean it this time. That Farstead player down there is the best of their team, and our Geli is still giving her a run for her money!"
Lea looked down into the pit. Both women were illuminated by glaring spotlights, beads of sweat trickling down faces contorted in painful determination.
"How long has this matchup been going for?" Lea asked.
"Nearly 3 minutes now," he answered.
"Hm, they might beat the world record,"
"They might,"
"Mom would've loved to report on that,"
"She would've,"
Mr. Livingstock cleared his throat. "Have you heard the rumor about that Farstead player, Martina Crowe I believe?"
"I hate to admit it, but I'm afraid I've been straying from my duties as a journalist and fallen out of the loop. Enlighten me, would you?"
"Always. They say she used to work with M.A.S.T.E.R Curtain himself,"
Lea looked up, "Really?"
He gave a dismissive shrug. "So they say, but you can't really tell with rumors these days. Who knows what's true anymore?"
Lea silently nodded her agreement.
The two athletes continued their battle, whipping the ball back and forth. With an exceptionally powerful punch, Martina sent the ball careening around the pole, which bent with a metallic screech. Geli leapt for the ball, but it was clear to everyone that with this final move, the round was over. The ball swung, unstoppable; its orbits getting smaller with each trip until, finally, it swung no more. Farstead fans erupted in cheers as Martina pumped her bruised knuckles in the air, relishing the victory. Beside Lea, Mr. Livingstock cursed.
"Don't worry," Lea assured, "I doubt Trippoli will lose their lead. We've only got a few matches left,"
"Yes, you're right," Mr. Livingstock leaned back in his chair. "I suppose with all that excitement over now, we can get to talking business. I doubt you arranged this meeting to simply enjoy my company?"
"Why Mr. Livingstock, you insult my character." He raised an eyebrow at her. "Though, now that you mention it—"
She was interrupted by his short, barking laugh. "Oh Lea! How similar you and your mother are. Nevermind then, do go on. What is it you need?"
"A ride out of town, one out of police patrol." She lowered her voice, though no one could have possibly eavesdropped with all of the ruckus around them. Still, Mr. Livingstock shared her paranoia and leaned closer.
"Details Lea, details," he hissed, "Where? When? How many?"
"Burrough, as soon as possible, and 3,"
"3?"
"Myself, my grandfather, and," she paused, "An undisclosed party,"
At this, Mr. Livingstock frowned. "That won't do Lea,"
"What's the matter? You've always been amenable to not asking questions. Especially for me, my family,"
"I know, I know." He let go of his cane to take her hand and give it a small squeeze. "Your mother was one of my best clients, and your whole family is quite dear to me, but you must understand that something is changing. In times like these, I have to look out for myself and my business,"
Lea shook her head. "What are you talking about? What change?"
"I am not sure what exactly. But something has all of the police up and anxious. You know how important the police are to my business, Lea. Their condonation is the only reason I am able to make a living. If I get on their bad side—" He shuddered and pulled his beloved pet closer.
"Mr. Livingstock, what is it you need from me?" Lea asked.
"I need to know the identity of this other party, and I need to know if they are a fugitive,"
"I can't tell you their name, their privacy is their only protection!"
"Then are they a fugitive?"
"Won't you just trust me?"
"I don't trust anyone." His eyes narrowed cruelly. This sudden change in demeanor startled Lea, and words failed her.
Mr. Livingstock gave a disappointed sigh. "Oh my child, I know that sounds awful of me. But it is only who I am. I never fully trusted your mother, and I will never fully trust you. That doesn't mean I don't care, but in a world like ours, one must look out for himself first and foremost. Despite our history, you are still a customer, Lea, and I, a businessman. Do you understand?" Lea willed a few tears away and nodded. "Good. Now, Lea, allow me to speak plainly. This guest of yours, is it him? The boy all the police are looking for? Is it Reynie Muldoon you are harboring?"
Lea paused for a long moment, the silence between them still palpable despite the background clamor of the crowd.
"Lea?"
"No."
He raised an eyebrow. "No?"
"No, it isn't him."
Mr. Livingstock's predatory eyes searched her face for signs of deception. Lea held her breath as she waited for their judgement. After a moment that felt to stretch on for ages, he finally leaned back and let himself relax.
"Hm, very well then. I will help you."
Lea gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you, how much do I owe you?"
"Nevermind that." He waved his hand dismissively. "Instead, let's discuss the details."
Their talk continued for a while longer as plans were made, variables contemplated, and details considered. When they were finally through, the tetherball was taking its final swing around the pole. As Lea was descending the arena steps, the sounds of the crowd's triumphant roar reached her ears. For the first time in history, the Trippoli Tigers had won the Tetherball World Championship, but with guilt and fear so heavy on her heart, Lea hardly felt like celebrating.
