Lovelock by James Mcneish

Author:James Mcneish [James McNeish]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781869796648
Publisher: Penguin Random House New Zealand
Published: 2012-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Now I am running through a forest of pines. It is early morning and the Village of Athletes is asleep. There is an aroma of pine needles and rotting bark. The forest floor is broken and carpeted with needles over wet sand, the boles of the Kiefern trees grow straight out of the sandy soil and the forest envelops me like a cloak. I am running between the boles of the Kiefern watching my shadow and inhaling the pine-scented air. I pass a woodcutter’s cottage, the smoke curling upward from the chimney. A deer starts up. Further on beside a snow-break firewood is roped together and stacked in bundles. I find a hollow where the snow has melted and curl up in the hollow to rest. It is very still and peaceful and all the time I am resting in the hollow I have the feeling I am protected, as if someone is watching over me.

The scene changes and I am in a tunnel. I emerge from the tunnel into a granite stadium. I sense the excitement of the stadium. Somewhere a choir is singing. The air is suddenly full of the beating of pigeons’ wings and for a moment the sky is blotted out. Now I can see flags on the ramparts. Below on the vast floor of the stadium are more flags carried by marching men, all the men and all the flags of all the nations in the world. Spiridon Loues holds up the Greek flag. Walter is carrying the Union Jack. I say to Walter, “I can’t see the New Zealand flag anywhere.” Walter says, “That’s because you’re carrying it.” Now a runner appears, all in white. He is blond and Aryan and carries a torch. The stadium rises in a tumult. “It is Fritz Schilgen,” Walter says, “the torchbearer.” As the torchbearer runs past the Tribune where Hitler is seated and begins to circle the stadium, I drop my flag and give chase. “Faster,” Walter shouts. I am running as fast as my legs will carry me, but it’s no good. Every time I try to pass the runner in white I fall back exhausted. At the fourth attempt he turns and I see that he is wearing glasses. He pauses and says:

“I wish you’d stop following me.” It isn’t the torchbearer. It is Sydney Wooderson.

“I’m sorry, Syd. It’s a habit I’ve developed.”

“Well, give over. Try following Cunningham instead. How big are you, Jack?”

“I’m five foot seven and I weigh 133 pounds.”

“Well I’m five foot six and I weigh less than that. If it comes to a fight between you, me and Cunningham, he’ll eat us both.”

“Syd. Why are we standing here in the middle of the stadium?”

“It isn’t Thursday, you know.”

“Isn’t it? I thought the final was on Thursday.”

“Today’s Wednesday. I’m waiting for the heats to start. The final isn’t till tomorrow.”

Now I am racing again. I have overtaken Beccali and am trying to get past Cunningham, but there is a runner in white in the way.

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