Sally crawled back into the tent. She was holding a fake beard, long and gray, with a string to hold it on.
“When I was walking around before, I noticed a vendor selling these,” Sally said. “For women who want to sneak in to watch the events.”
“Women aren’t allowed in the stadiums?” Abby asked.
“Nope,” Doc said. “Men only. And kids.”
“That’s lame,” Abby said.
“I know,” Sally agreed. “Put it on.”
“What about me?” Doc asked.
“No one will be able to see you,” Sally said.
She explained her idea.
Moments later, Sally stood outside the tent. “All clear,” she said.
Inside the tent, Abby was wearing the gray beard. Doc shoved the olive wreath into his back pocket. He hunched over, letting his sister climb onto his shoulders. Then, as Doc stood, Abby lifted the corners of the tent and wrapped the canvas around both of them. It looked sort of like a robe.
And it completely covered Doc. Only Abby’s bearded head stuck out from the top.
“Come, father,” Sally said. “Let us stroll to the hippodrome.”
“Good idea, child,” Abby said.
Sally led the way along a path lined with marble statues.
“These are champions of Olympics past,” Sally said. “When the games first began, there was only one event, a running race. Over the years, they added jumping, javelin and discus throwing, the chariot race, wrestling, and boxing …”
“And it was normal for boxers to get their teeth knocked out,” Doc said from inside the tent/robe. “But they didn’t like to give their opponents the satisfaction of knowing—so they would swallow their own teeth.”
Sally laughed. “I’ve read that, too!”
“Don’t encourage him,” Abby said, but with a smile. She liked gross details as much as the next guy.
“Father, look!” Sally said, pointing.
A man in a long purple robe was walking toward them, looking around, clearly searching the crowd.
“Judge!” Abby said a little too loudly—to warn Doc, who couldn’t see a thing.
“Yes?” the judge said, turning to what appeared to be a wobbly old man. “Did you call me?”
“No, I was just, um …” Abby said in a fake deep voice. “How’s it going, Your Honor?”
The judge frowned. “We still have not found the wreath thieves.”
Doc reached around to his back pocket to make sure the wreath was still there. It was. But when he took his hand off Abby’s leg, she tilted forward, nearly sliding off his shoulders, only catching herself by clamping her feet tight to his ribs.
“Owwww!” Doc moaned.
The judge looked at Abby.
Abby patted the front of her robe.
“Excuse me,” she said. “Too many olives. Well, good luck catching those crooks.”
The judge nodded. He turned and continued his search.
“This way, father,” Sally said.
They walked on.
“Here’s the hippodrome,” Sally said.
They looked down at the massive dirt field.
“Six hundred yards long,” Sally said. “Two hundred wide.”
“There’s Amelia,” Abby said. “And the angry lady. What are they doing?”
Abby’s robe opened. Doc peeked out.
Down on the track, Amelia Earhart and Kyniska stood shoulder-to-shoulder in a tiny two-wheeled wooden cart. The chariot bounced along the track, pulled by Kyniska’s team of four horses.