Another competition meant another day that Turgon spent at the arena. On one hand, he had actually hoped that the competition would be called off for some reason, on account of the butterflies that had infiltrated his stomach. They fluttered about every time he thought of her, or someone mentioned her name – which, to be honest, was not often unless provoked.
“Turgon, I have a message that needs to be taken to the coaches of Team Orange Blossom. One of their girls just landed wrong and broke her foot. We think the coaches are in their warm up room because they are not in the arena.”
With a curt nod, Turgon saluted the head of the squad. “I will get the message to them immediately,” he promised. He turned and began to walk into the passageway. After a moment, he looked over his shoulder to see if he was still being watched, but his superior had left and gone back to the competition already. Turgon took a moment to pull something out of his pocket and shake it out.
The object was a long length of black cloth that he was using as a blindfold. He leaned against the side of the passage and wrapped it around his head, blocking his vision. Once it was tied tightly behind his head, Turgon strolled down the hall and counted his steps in order to reach his destination.
He did stumble a few times on things left in the hallway. The first was a jump rope that made him propel himself into the wall. The next was a baton that someone had dropped during a practice routine and forgotten to pick up. At each mishap, someone would giggle and then a pause came while they pointed, which was followed by more laughter.
“I am fine. Do not worry,” promised Turgon as he continued on toward his destination. He reached the team room safely, found the coaches (despite not being able to see either of them), and then turned around in order to return to his post.
He promptly walked right into someone and tumbled backwards onto his posterior.
“Just what are you doing?”
The voice was unmistakable, and Turgon hoped that his rapidly beating heart was unheard by Elenwe. “I just had to deliver a message,” he explained. “I did not wish you to think that I might take liberties, so I have devised a method that will allow me to carry on my duties without worry that I might see something I should not.”
“That is ridiculous,” said Elenwe as she helped Turgon stand up. “How can you see where you are going?”
“I cannot,” admitted Turgon. “However, there is no possible way I can see anything else for that matter, so there is no worry that I might be seeing something I should not.”
“You silly elf,” scolded Elenwe gently. She placed Turgon’s arm around hers and guided him back down the passage. “You are going to have a lump on your head from walking into the walls if you keep doing this.”
“But, I shall remain unaccused.”
“I bet you were a difficult child,” said Elenwe as she deposited Turgon at the mouth of the passage and removed the blindfold.
“Yes – how did you know?” wondered Turgon as Elenwe walked back down the corridor, his blindfold still in her hand.
“Lucky guess,” she called back to him.
The competition that evening was between a few of the male gyms. Some of the all-female teams stayed to watch, either to support neighboring gyms or because they wanted to watch the techniques employed by their male counterparts. Turgon had managed to procure a seat for himself near the seats reserved for the team that Elenwe was on. The moment she entered, he stopped watching the doors for her and pretended to have been enraptured with the warm-ups going on in the arena.
“Fancy meeting you here,” said Elenwe as she and her teammates filed into their seats. She sat down beside Turgon and asked, “How is your head?”
“Fine, thank you. Actually, fine, thanks to you. I may need to employ your assistance in all of my blindfolded expeditions.” Turgon pointed down at the floor of the arena. “My brother is right down there.”
“Oh.” Elenwe motioned toward one of the competitors. “Is that him?”
“No, he is the coach. Off to the side, right over there.”
“Oh! I remember him!” Elenwe nodded. “I recall seeing him when he used to compete. He used to have this ritual where he would walk around the outside edge of the entire arena three times before each meet. It was really weird, but no one questioned him about it.”
“Yes, that is him.” Turgon settled back in his seat again. “When I was little, I used to have to go with him to the gym, because my mother would take him and I would have to come along. They tried to get me to learn the different things, but I had no interest in them. I spent most of my time digging holes in the side yard of the gym and burying things.”
“How old were you?”
“Old enough to know I should not be burying things, too young to know I was doing it to try to get attention because I craved it from my parents. I wonder if my father ever did find out what happened to that belt buckle he liked so much,” Turgon mused.
Elenwe bought a bag of roasted nuts from one of the vendors. “You mean you do not know if he ever got it back?”
“There are a lot of things he probably never found,” Turgon realized. “I suppose they are all fairly safe, though. I mean, how many people are digging holes in the yard of a gymnasium?”
“You could always go back and find them. It could be interesting to see what you dig up. Which gym were you at?”
“Yes,” replied Turgon after quite a long pause.
Elenwe giggled. “Do you not remember?” she asked as she offered some of the nuts to Turgon. She laughed again when he shook his head. “That could cause a problem.”
“It could,” he agreed. “I was so little, I cannot remember where he was.”
“Why not simply ask him?” suggested Elenwe.
Turgon snickered. “If I asked him, he would want to know why. If I tell him why, he will never allow me to live it down.”
“I guess your secrets will need to stay buried,” said Elenwe. “Unless, of course, you ever decide to go to every gym and look for them.”
“Maybe you and I could try doing that someday when you have time,” said Turgon hopefully.
“Maybe,” answered Elenwe.
