With a sinking feeling, Frankie and Drew climbed back up to where Grandad and Alexi were sitting. ‘We should go back to Alessandro soon,’ Alexi was saying. ‘I have a horrible feeling he is missing me.’
Frankie had his own horrible feelings. One was that his sister, the one often referred to by his parents as the ‘brains of the family’, was about to do something spectacularly stupid. And he was also feeling bad about the things Lou had said. Had he really been so mean that she’d decided not just to move out of home, but to move to a whole different ERA – and potentially change it? This whole experience was turning into an absolute shemozzle!
Frankie felt like the fate of the world was in his hands. At any moment someone might find Nanna’s sculpture and realise its significance. And if that didn’t happen, it looked like Lou was about to single-handedly ruin history anyway.
Then, out of nowhere, it dawned on Frankie what was going on with Lou. She was tired of being the good one, the perfect one. She was out to prove that Saint Lou had a bit of devilishness in her. Unfortunately, she had chosen a very dramatic way of proving it!
The crowd suddenly went as silent as a church service in a library. It was clear all eyes were fixed on Lou.
Frankie’s legs turned to jelly. Apart from the whole messing-up-the-world’s-timeline issue, he wasn’t even sure if Lou had ever held a javelin before. What if she messed it up and got injured or something? But then he remembered how many first-place ribbons she’d won at St Monica’s Sports Carnival. Surely she’d be OK at javelin. Knowing Lou, she’d probably be GREAT at it. But the last thing Frankie needed was for her to win. That would be an absolute disaster.
Alexi tugged at Frankie’s toga. ‘We must go back to Alessandro,’ he said again, ‘for I am the God of Animals!’ He paused. ‘Also, if they discover your sister is a girl, she will not get out of here alive,’ he warned in his most serious voice.
By now Frankie was quaking, but Lou didn’t look worried at all.
Slowly, the noise in the arena began to grow. Everyone was eager to see this strong, unusual ‘boy’ compete. The crowd’s chants turned to roars of delight and as they got faster and faster, so did Frankie’s heartbeat. Grandad clutched Frankie’s shoulder.
‘If she wins this, we’re toast,’ whispered Grandad.
‘Then what’s our plan?’ asked Frankie desperately.
Grandad stared back at his grandson, his face looking like a billboard ad for grimness. ‘We hope,’ he whispered hopelessly.
‘That’s not a PLAN,’ Frankie replied, incredulously.
Alexi tapped Frankie’s arm. ‘I really think we should find Alessandro now,’ he whined. ‘We like to eat our carrots together.’
Frankie pushed Alexi away. ‘Grandad, Lou doesn’t not win,’ Frankie pointed out. ‘We need an ACTUAL plan.’ His heartbeat was now almost visible through his bunny toga and his hands were so sweaty he could feel the handle of the Sonic Suitcase almost slipping through his fingers.
‘Well, kiddo, if ye do have another plan I’d suggest ye get moving,’ Grandad said, nodding in the direction of his granddaughter.
‘Peasant, go fetch my donkey!’ Alexi screamed like a tired toddler.
Frankie erupted. ‘I don’t know where your stupid donkey is, OK? Grandad was probably right, he got spooked and ran away and no-one knows where he is!’
Alexi’s face crumpled, but Frankie didn’t notice. Right now all he could think about was how to stop Lou from winning gold. He stared at his sister, wishing she’d put the javelin down and walk away, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t accidentally send the future of the world into freefall.
But instead, she started to run.
A few short steps later, before Frankie could even get up out of his seat, the javelin left Lou’s hand and went flying through the air. Frankie felt his insides scramble over and over like an acrobat who’d just drunk twenty double cappuccinos.
In the modern world, Lou’s javelin throw would have been an ordinary one. But in Ancient Greece, Lou had the advantage of modern strength-training and an appropriate diet. She was just as strong as anyone else and she knew enough about geometry to make sure her javelin flew through the air at just the right angle.
It looked to Frankie like her throw was going to go further than the other competitors’. Much further.
It was shaping up to be a performance that gets recorded forever in history – which was exactly what Frankie didn’t want to happen.
Grandad was clearly thinking just the same thing. He pointed into the air with a trembling finger. ‘Stop that javelin!’ he roared.
But stopping a javelin mid-flight was like stopping a steam train at full steam. Almost impossible.
Almost.
