Page 9 of The Pacifist
The second time, Mason managed to get through without getting hit by any more balls. Running toward the last obstacle, the tree, Mason accelerated full speed and used a cat-like technique, taking a few steps on the trunk and leaping high in the air for one of the branches. Once he had a good grip, he pulled himself up. I counted how many seconds it took him to reach the top. Seventeen seconds.
“You’re like a monkey, aren’t you?” I teased when he came back down. “That was incredible, Mason.”
“Told you I’m fast.” His blue eyes shone with pride.
“Well done little brother.” Mila reached up and tousled his red hair that complimented his freckles.
He pushed her hand away with an embarrassed mutter. “I’m not little.”
The guards patted him on the shoulder before turning their attention to me. “Your turn, Councilman. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I had been a fast runner since childhood and with my family unit being in charge of a Nostalgia Park where visitors could experience simulated time traveling, I was used to physical activities.
“What was your time again?” I asked Mason.
“Three minutes and fourteen seconds.”
“All right.” Wetting my lips, I swung my arms a last time and took position. “I’m ready.”
Neptune held up his arm and set the timer on his wristband. “3, 2, 1, Go.”
The first obstacle required only the use of my arms. Jumping up to reach the first iron bar, I had to switch between my left and right arm and pull myself along twenty more iron bars, positioned far enough apart for me to have to use my legs to swing to get momentum. I was happy that Mason had gone first and demonstrated the technique.
When I got through and jumped to the next obstacle, I heard one of the guards say, “Damn, I didn’t think he would have the strength to do that.”
It always astonished me how Nmen underestimated us people from the Motherlands. My sister, Emanuela, was a soccer player and one of the best athletes in the world. I’d bet if she were here, she would beat all of us on this obstacle course.
“There’s no way he’ll get through the next one. It’s all about core muscles.”
I ignored their comments and focused on getting through a tunnel that was too low to crawl in. Pushing off on my elbows and using my hips and legs to wriggle forward, I kept my head down and my eyes on the light at the end of the tunnel.
“Fuck, that was fast.” Mason’s outcries were followed by Mila’s cheering for me.
“Keep going, Jonah, you’re winning.”
It helped that I’d seen Mason go through the course. The third obstacle reminded me of a short zipliner, except that once you grabbed onto the two handles you were twirled around while going fast through the air. I hated getting dizzy and was grateful that at least there was a large safety net underneath in case I fell. I ran up the stairs to the platform and with a firm grip on the handles, I kicked the release mechanism and felt my body spinning around and around, like a dancer on ice doing pirouettes.
It was a small miracle in itself that I didn’t let go of the handles before it was over and that I managed to not throw up after.
The guards and Mason were laughing and making comments about how I had screamed while spinning, but I also heard one of them say, “He must have some muscles hidden under that shirt because he’s fucking fast.”
If only they knew how many summers I’d worked in my family’s theme park. Last year alone, I’d spent three weeks as a rappelling guide; two to four times a day, I’d had to manually pull myself and a visitor up on a platform because one of the wires in the park wasn’t tight enough. I wasn’t buff like most of the Nmen, but I was strong.
The third obstacle was jumping from one platform to another. I fell down once but was quick to get up again. By the time I made it to the fourth obstacle, the balance beam where large balls were swinging from side to side, I was ahead of Mason by six seconds.
Mila kept encouraging me. “You’re doing great, Jonah. Keep going and be careful.”
The fifth and sixth obstacles were tricky, but I kept up my time until I got to the last obstacle, the tree. I wasn’t as agile as Mason, who had climbed the tree in an almost running manner.
“Come on, Jonah, get up there,” Mila shouted and it made the dogs bark at her excitement.
My arms felt twice as long as usual, my lungs were hurting from working overtime, my muscles were burning, and I was panting. Still, I pushed myself to keep going up that stupid tree, ignoring my fear of heights.
Why did you say yes to this stupid bet? You have nothing to prove. He’s just a boy… so what if he thinks I’m slow and weak?
Crawling up and up, one thought stood out clear to me.
I’m not doing it to impress Mason. I’m doing it to impress Mila.
