Authors: Jo Whittemore
G
o!” shouted Ms. Success
.
My brothers and I sprinted away from the starting line while Dad shouted words of encouragement after us. The forest opened up around us until the air was rich with the scent of pine and much cooler from the shade of the trees.
The first three obstacles were easy. We had to run through tires, cross some monkey bars, and climb a six-foot wall. Nick pretty much threw me and Parker over, and was able to shimmy up on his own.
“Ninety seconds down,” said Parker as we raced for the fourth obstacle.
When we reached it, however, we came to a dead stop.
A wooden plank sat in the center of a huge circle of bricks. A thick mountain of rope was coiled up on the outside.
“I don't get it,” I said. “What are we supposed to do?”
“Look!” Parker pointed to a sheet of paper nailed to a tree beside the circle. He slipped the paper off the nail and the three of us read:
Retrieve the board for use in the next obstacle.
No person can touch the ground inside the
circle, and the circle can't be broken.
“Okay,” said Parker, “so we'll just lasso the board and pull it out.”
He put the note back and picked up the rope. After creating a loop in one end, he tossed the rope at the board and maneuvered himself around the circle, trying to slip the loop over the wood.
“That's not going to work,” said Nick. “The board's flat against the ground and the rope's too thick.” He glanced up at the tree. “Give it here.”
Parker did as he was told, and Nick tossed the looped end of the rope over one of the tree's bigger branches. It came down on the other side and Nick held it out to me.
“Put this around your waist,” he said, tying another loop on the opposite end.
“A rope-and-pulley system!” Parker smacked himself in the forehead. “Why didn't I think of that?”
I shimmied into the loop and Nick did the same on his end. Then, he started to back away, clutching the rope in front of him with both hands. I slowly started to lift off the ground, swinging back and forth.
“Parker, push her toward the center of the circle,” grunted Nick, leaning back with all his weight and digging his heels into the ground. “Then come help me.”
“I don't weigh
that
much!” I said, as Parker pointed me in the direction of the board and gave a hearty shove. I soared to the opposite end of the circle, but my fingers were inches away from the board.
“Lower me a bit,” I said.
Even with Parker's help, I knew Nick was having trouble keeping my height steady and that there was a very real chance he'd drop me straight to the ground.
“Easy does it,” grunted Parker, and I felt the rope slip a few inches.
I tried again and gripped the edge of the board with my fingers. Straining my entire arm, I pulled the board to a vertical position. Unfortunately, it was too heavy for me to
throw outside the circle, and my momentum had stopped so I was stranded in the center.
“Use the board like an oar,” called Nick. “Row yourself to the edge.”
He made it sound way easier than it actually was. After what felt like a thousand lifetimes, I finally got close enough for Parker to take the board from me.
“Later, sucker!” he said as soon as he had it.
“Hey!”
“Just kidding.” He tossed the board aside and took my hands. Looking back at Nick, he yelled, “Ready?”
Nick let the slack out of the rope at the same time Parker pulled me toward him with all his strength. We fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap, but my entire body avoided the inner circle.
“Good job, guys!” said Nick, running over to join us. “Parker, time?”
Parker winced at his watch. “We're at six minutes.”
“Then we'd better get going.” Nick slapped him on the shoulder and sprinted with the board under one arm toward the next obstacle.
Again, we came to a dead stop, this time at a pond. It was only about fifty feet across, but it was too deep to wade. Two rain barrels stood just beneath a tree with another note tacked to it. I picked it up and read, “Use the board and the barrels
to cross the pond. Your upper body cannot touch the water.”
I put down the note and studied the barrels, prying the lids off of them.
“Hey! Whoa!” both my brothers cried.
“
What
?” I fought to keep the exasperation out of my voice. “There's no other way to get into the barrels.”
Nick goggled at me. “You want to ride
inside
them?”
“No, I want
you
guys to ride inside them. I'll balance on top of each one and roll it to the opposite shore.” I stood on top of one and demonstrated. “I saw a lumberjack do it with a log once.”
Parker rubbed his forehead. “There are several problems with that plan, the most obvious being that you are not a lumberjack.”
“But I've got great balance,” I said. “You've seen.”
Parker stared at me in amazement. “It doesn't mean I want to climb inside a sealed container and let you push it to the center of a lake!”
“A
pond
,” I corrected.
“I'm with Parker,” said Nick. “We need to be on the outside of the barrelsâ¦. Maybe moving ourselves along with the plank?”
Parker chewed his lip and walked around the objects a few times. “I've got a better idea.”
Following his instructions, we resealed the barrels and
tilted them on their sides, Parker climbing on one and I on the other. Then we propped the plank between them and sat on either end, while Nick rested his upper body on the plank's center. He kicked his feet in the water and steered our makeshift raft to the opposite shore.
“Time?” he asked.
“We're at twelve minutes,” said Parker.
“We're barely keeping on time.” Nick gritted his teeth. “The next ones had better be easy.”
Thankfully, obstacle six was a rope climb with a platform at the top leading to obstacle seven. Although my legs still hurt from earlier that week, my brothers and I mastered the ropes in a minute flat. Once we reached the platform, Parker read the note taped to a pole beside it.
“To get to obstacle seven, cross the mud pit.”
We all looked down at the long stretch of brown sludge that spread between us and the next obstacle.
“Nooo,” said Parker.
“That explains the muddy kids,” I said.
Nick pointed at the note. “There are two ways across. Traverse the mud, or solve the riddles and free the flying foxes.”
“Augh!” Parker dropped the note and jumped back.
“What? What's going on?” Nick and I bumped into each other, twirling around to see what had startled Parker.
“Flying foxes!” he said. “Those furry demons have mastered flight?!”
Nick and I stopped moving and laughed.
“A flying fox isn't an animal,” I said. “It's a little set of handlebars that run on ⦠that.”
I pointed to a cable above us, roughly thirty feet off the ground. It slanted down to a platform on the opposite side of the mud pit.
“Oh.” Parker looked sheepish.
“And I'm guessing the foxes are in there.” Nick pointed to a long box resting along the edge of the platform.
We stepped closer and saw three combination locks securing the box lid. Each lock had five rotating dials, but instead of numbers, the dials held letters.
I groaned. “There's got to be like a hundred possible combinations on each lock!”
“A hundred thousand,” corrected Parker, inspecting the dials. “But there's also got to be a clue here somewhere.” He lifted the box and pointed. “Ha!”
On the bottom were written three lines:
Instead of jumping into action, my brothers and I just stared at the box.
“I think we were better off
without
the clues,” I said. “What do you call a group of lions?”
Nick shrugged. “Dangerous?”
I scratched my head. “So all Champs should be dangerous?”
“No,” said Parker. “All Champs should be like the sun.”
Nick stepped away to glance down at the mud. “Do you want to carry Parker, or should I?”
I joined him. “You're training to be his servant, right? I think this would be good practice.”
“Maybe he can walk if we promise to keep his hair dry,” said Nick.
Behind us, Parker, fiddled with the locks. “Not likely.”
“Besides, how would we do that?” I asked. “
Did
you bring a shower cap?”
“No, but the Swiss Army knife might have one. It's got everything.”
There was a loud thump behind us, and Nick and I glanced at Parker, who was grinning triumphantly.
“Shall we?” he asked, holding up a flying fox.
Nick and I stared open-mouthed at him.
“You did it!” I said. “How?”
Parker tapped his head. “I used my mental computer.”
“Ohhh,” said Nick and I.
“All Champs should use their
brains
,” said Nick. “What were the other two?”
“A group of lions is a pride, and the sun is a ⦔ He pointed to the star on his chest.
I applauded Parker, and Nick gave him a fist bump. “Nice one! I knew we kept you around for a reason.”
Parker blushed and smiled even wider. “How does this thing work anyway?” He held the flying fox out and I took it, attaching it to the overhead wire.
“It works like
this
.” I lifted my legs off the platform and tucked them in to my chest. The wire sagged a little under my weight, but the flying fox propelled me forward and down to the other platform. When I was steady on both feet again, I gave a thumbs-up and Parker soared down on his flying fox, followed by Nick.
“We're at nineteen minutes,” said Parker before Nick could even ask. “The next obstacle takes us back to the ground.”
He pointed to an enormous net that angled downward from the ledge of the platform to obstacle nine. “We'll have to carefullyâ”
“No, we won't,” said Nick. Then folding his arms over his chest, he rolled off the ledge and all the way down the net, hitting the ground with a small cloud of dust. “Quick and
almost
painless,” he called up, rubbing his backside.
“You heard the man,” I said, giving Parker a gentle nudge. Unfortunately, I caught him off guard and he toppled face-first into the net, bouncing wildly all the way down.
“Augh ⦠augh ⦠augh!” he cried with each bounce.
“Sorry!” I shouted, sliding down after him.
Parker's nose was planted in the ground when I touched down, but he groaned and held up his watch arm.
“We've got fifteen minutes left,” I said.
Nick and I helped Parker to his feet, and the three of us hurried over to a low crawl under a series of crisscrossing ropes. We all suffered a few cuts and bruises but made it to the other side in two minutes. We now had thirteen minutes left to tackle the final obstacle and make it back to the starting line.
But obstacle ten didn't look to be an easy task. It required running along a series of narrow beams that led to a springboard. On the other side of the board stood a six-foot padded platform that was wedged between two trees. From one of the tree's branches hung three gold stars.
Nick grabbed a note off a nearby tree. “Cross all the beams, make it to the top of the platform, and grab a
star. If you fall off a beam, you must start over.”
“Great,” said Parker. “Who wants to unleash their inner gymnast first?”
“I'll go,” I said.
“Take it slow,” said Nick. “You don't want to get careless and fall off.”
“Got it,” I said. Then I turned and sprinted across the planks full speed.
“Alex!” he shouted.
But I ignored him. At my height and strength, if I was going to make it to the platform, I'd have to reach the springboard at a run. Since the beams were laying on the ground and hadn't been secured to anything, they wobbled a bit, but I expertly crossed three of them. The fourth shifted slightly in a direction that I didn't anticipate, and my foot slipped and hit the dirt.