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The next morning,as the sun rose in the eastern sky, I pulled up to Viktor’s house. I’d dressed in an old pair of knickers I’d found in the back of the closet that had been left behind by one of the twins. They were too big, but I held them up with a leather belt tied like a bow around my hips. I’d pulled a sweater on over my undergarments. Over it all, I wore Papa’s man’s flannel peacoat he used for outside work. It dwarfed me but would be warm.
A layer of frost crunched under my leather boots as I made my way to the front door of Viktor’s cottage. The boys had done a good job on the place. Situated between trees and painted white with black shutters, I had the sensation of walking into a fairy tale. A gurgling from the creek to the left of the house accompanied the call of a flock of geese who flew overhead in a vee shape in the pale blue sky.
Viktor opened the door before I had the chance to knock. He smelled of shaving soap and wore a white sweater with a collar that nestled near his ears. An orange scarf hung loosely around his neck. My breath hitched at the sight of his green eyes, still puffy from sleep. What would it be like to wake next to him each morning? To turn over and see his face every day of my life?
“Good morning.” He frowned at me. “You’re late.”
“I’m not. It’s exactly six a.m.” I lifted my leather glove away from my wrist to show him my delicate watch.
“Early is on time. On time is late.”
“What’s late then?” I liked this bossy side of him. He’d always been so unflappably pleasant that I often found myself wishing I could goad him into a fitful state.
“Late is inexcusable,” Viktor said as he stepped out to his front porch, closing the door behind him. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing or not. “As in, don’t bother showing up at all.” He held out his hand. “Give me the watch. You’ll break it with what I have planned for you.”
I gulped. “What’ve I gotten myself into?”
“You want to win?”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t ask questions.”
Unlikely, I thought. I was full of questions. “How early is early?” I followed behind him, feeling momentarily like a small dog following behind its bigger, faster friend.
“Ten minutes or more.” He stopped under a maple tree where a rope had been looped around a thick branch. I guessed the branch to be about fifty feet up. Rocks of various sizes were set about the grass.
Tomorrow, I vowed to myself, I’d be thirty minutes early and roust him out of bed.
“Did you eat?” Viktor asked.
“An apple on the way over.”
“Tomorrow eat eggs. You’re going to need the energy.”
“But Lizzie doesn’t have breakfast ready that early.” I stopped myself, realizing how spoiled I sounded.
He raised one eyebrow. “Do you really not know how to boil an egg?”
“Um, not really.” I’d never even peeled an egg for myself. Lizzie would have to teach me these things if I were to ever survive on my own. Or be someone’s wife.
“Put that on the list of tasks to learn then,” Viktor said. “An athlete must know how to feed herself.”
“You’re an entirely different Viktor this morning. What happened to the one who admires me?”
“It’s for your own good.” He tugged on the rope. “The goal is for you to be able to climb this rope by the time the first snow falls.”
“Climb it? What’s that to do with skiing?” Not that I didn’t like the idea. Climbing trees had been a passion of mine as a child.
“I told you—you need strength if you’re going to beat the men.”
“Will strength help?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“Then I’m here and ready to work.”
He instructed me to take off my coat. “We’ll get warmed up first.”
We started by running as fast as we could to and from the rocks he’d set up. After that, we moved on to using the rocks in various ways: thrusting them overhead, squatting with them held to our chest, curling them in one hand up to our shoulder and back down again. We did push-ups and more sprints. Finally, it was time to try to climb the rope.
“Here’s what you do.” He held the end with his feet and used his bare hands, one after the other, to inch up the rope. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. The muscles of his legs bulged under his denim pants.
When it was my turn, I looked down at my hands. I’d grabbed a pair of worn leather gloves from several seasons ago, not wanting to wreck my good ones. “Better with or without?” I asked.
“As long as you can grip, then I’d recommend them.”
“Why don’t you have any?”
“I’m tougher than you,” Viktor said.
That was enough. I tore the gloves off my hands and tossed them under the tree.
I stood next to the rope and looked all the way to the top. I wasn’t intimidated by much, but conquering that rope looked daunting, especially after seeing Viktor climb as if it were nothing.
He told me to bring the rope between my legs and anchor it with my feet. “Then, go one hand over the other until you get to the top.”
I did as instructed. Once I had the rope between my legs and held loosely with my feet, I clenched my stomach and tried to pull myself up. I managed one hand over the other and then one more. That was as far as I got. I let go and plummeted to the ground. Fortunately for me, it wasn’t but a foot to drop.
“Do it again.” Viktor picked up my gloves from the ground and slapped them against my shoulder. “But for goodness’ sake, put on your gloves. Your hands will be so torn up by the end of the day you won’t be able to try again tomorrow.”
“Fine.” My hands were raw, chapped, and cold after only one attempt. After I had the gloves back on, I faced the rope once more.
I tried five more times with no more success than the first. Finally, I had to admit defeat. “It’s as far as I can get.” I sat on the cold ground and leaned against the tree, panting.
“We’ll try again tomorrow.”
I might have changed my mind about his bossiness being attractive. At the moment, I wanted to smack him. If I’d been able to raise my arm, that is.
My muscles burned by the time we were done with the rope. For having gone no higher than when I’d started, I was exhausted, mentally and physically.
“Come inside. I’ll get you some water,” he said. “And some eggs and toast.”
I grabbed my coat from where I’d hung it on the bush and hobbled behind him. How would I endure another day of this?
“Is this really going to help me?” I asked.
“Perhaps you don’t want to work this hard?”
