Chapter Thirty-One

 

After falling asleep only with the aid of pain pills and beer, Evgeny Popescu often found it hard to awake in the morning.

Dragging himself out of bed in the middle of the night was nearly impossible.

However, he got the not entirely unexpected call from Andrei Tatarescu, the head of the Romanian Gymnastics Federation, at midnight, and Evgeny’s boss told him he would be at his apartment within the next two hours. He had been in Bucharest, preparing for the Olympics, but he felt the situation was dire enough to warrant a trip to Deva.

Evgeny sat alone in a dark living room, staring out his window at the stars. This was a conversation he was hoping to avoid, for the rest of his life if possible. Turns out, he couldn’t even avoid it for a day.

True to his word, Tatarescu arrived at his apartment slightly before two o’clock. Evgeny was barely able to keep his eyes open, and a pot of coffee hadn’t helped at all. He switched back to beer and offered Tatarescu a glass of whisky. They sat down together at the kitchen table.

“Tell me what happened,” he demanded.

Evgeny shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. Martina Năstase went up on the roof of her house to get her cat, and she slipped and fell. Broke her leg.”

“Lucky it didn’t happen in the gym,” Tatarescu commented.

Evgeny’s face darkened. “I mean no disrespect, but you have no idea what it feels like to have your career end in a freak accident.” He didn’t speak of his injuries often, but when he did, it was with passionate resentment. “After Ileana Dalca, Martina was her age group’s next best hope. I’m beginning to think I’m cursed.”

“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that Martina Năstase was in the gym the day of Dalca’s injury.” Tatarescu said it calmly, but there was no mistaking his intent.

“It was an accident,” Evgeny said helplessly. “Is this going to be hanging over my head for the rest of my life?”

“I know it was an accident, but that is not how the outside world will see it.” He paused to sip the whisky then leaned forward and said, “Evgeny, I guarantee Abby Vicari will not see it as an accident.”

“She already spoke to the girls. Martina said nothing.”

“That was when she had something to lose,” Tatarescu reminded him. “Perhaps if she moved to America, she’d be able to rehabilitate her leg and compete again, but her family doesn’t have the money for a move like that, especially since there is little chance it would pay off.”

“I did nothing wrong,” Evgeny insisted.

“The world believes our training methods have evolved, become more humane,” Tatarescu said with a sneer. “They don’t understand what it takes to breed generations of champions. Accidents happen in the course of training, I understand that, but we can’t allow the world to think of our methods as draconian or to misinterpret your intentions. Ileana was your star pupil, you loved her. Rightfully, you expected more from her than the others. It’s human nature.”

“Andrei, what are you asking me to do?” He felt tired and emotionally drained.

“I think you should talk to Martina, remind her how important it is to keep training methods secret. For the good of the program.”

“I may stop by the hospital and see her, but I don’t believe she needs a shot across the bow. She’s a smart girl.”

“She’s an outspoken girl, one who does not heed consequences before acting. Ileana was her best friend.”

“Maybe if we allowed her to speak with Abby, the American would come to the correct conclusion on her own,” Evgeny said, rubbing his forehead. “It really was an accident. We shouldn’t have to cover it up like it was murder.”

“Don’t be naïve, Evgeny,” Tatarescu said. “Vicari will see exactly what she is looking for, and if she gets only one person of slight importance to believe her story, you’ll spend the rest of your life in prison and Romanian gymnastics as we know it will be finished. We have spent the last ten years rebuilding our program, and I won’t allow this one meddlesome woman to endanger our success. More importantly, I won’t allow her to sully the name of all Romanian sports. Rowing. Soccer. Tennis. Swimming. All could fall if the world believes what this ignorant reporter does. And don’t kid yourself into thinking the dominoes stop in Romania. Every Eastern Bloc nation and China will be under the microscope. All because you could not control the mouth of a twelve-year-old girl. Do you want to be responsible for that?”

Evgeny felt like he was exaggerating, but he couldn’t ignore the worst case scenario. Nothing mattered more to him than his legacy, and right now it was one of loyalty and bravery. He cared about his gymnasts and the competitiveness of Romania. He didn’t want a single reporter to turn him into a monster. It would be unfair and untrue.

But he was tired of fighting. He wanted the nightmare to be over.

He said, “I’ll talk to Martina. Though I still believe it’s unnecessary.”

“Good,” Tatarescu said.

Evgeny was lying. He had no intention of confronting his former pupil. “What if it doesn’t work?”

Tatarescu finished his drink and stood. He was deadly serious when he said, “Then we take our concerns directly to Vicari.”