Sam was already waiting at the tower when Travis arrived back at the pool. She and everyone else seemed to be looking at exactly the same place: the doorway to the showers and change rooms. Ten seconds later, the doors opened.
It was Nish, in his Mighty Ducks of Anaheim bathing trunks. He raised both arms to the crowd like he was the wrestling heavyweight champion of the world.
The stands erupted in cheers.
Nish bowed.
He’s going to make a fool of himself, Travis thought. He’s going to panic.
The Australian synchronized diving team was already at the top of the tower. It struck Travis, from the way they were joking around and laughing, that perhaps they had taken this particular event no more seriously than had the Owls. Surely, though, they hadn’t entered any hockey players who were terrified of heights.
The two Aussies moved to the edge, high above the water, talked over their planned dive, high-fived each other for luck, and leapt off at the count of three.
One flipped frontwards, the other managed only a half-flip, and they crashed heavily into the water, bodies badly out of time.
They surfaced to a loud chorus of good-natured booing from the Australian players in the stands.
Both waved, laughing.
Thank heavens, Travis thought. They’re not taking this seriously, either. But they’ll still win, he realized. Because Nish won’t even be able to climb up, let alone jump off – and the Mini-Olympic championship will be theirs.
Nish was at the steps. He had one hand on the railing. Sam was just ahead of him, pleading with him to hurry. From the look on her face, she seemed a lot more agitated than Nish.
Nish smiled, turned and waved again, causing a ripple of laughter to move through the crowd.
He scurried up the steps to join Sam.
He must have his eyes closed, thought Travis. This is where he froze last time.
But Nish didn’t freeze, he didn’t even pause. He took Sam’s hand as he reached her and almost hauled her up the next series of steps to the top of the tower.
The Owls gasped. Nish was now ten metres above the water. He was standing on a small platform four storeys high, with nothing but air between him and the water.
And he wasn’t screaming!
He wasn’t screaming. He wasn’t crying. He didn’t have his eyes shut. He wasn’t shaking. And he wasn’t hanging on to anything but Sam’s hand while he waved with the other.
Sam looked as baffled as anyone else in the crowd. But she shrugged, turned to Nish, went over some quick instructions as to what they’d do, and the two of them approached the edge of the tower.
The entire pool took one breath and held it, as if they, not the divers, were about to plunge underwater.
In the eerie silence, everyone could hear Sam’s soft voice doing the countdown.
“Three … two … one!”
At “one!” both left the tower. Nish held a swan dive, as did Sam, and then both, almost in perfect unison, did a quick flip before entering the water. The splash was so small it seemed more like two coins striking the water than two hockey players who’d never dived competitively in their lives.
A huge cheer went up from the crowd, the Aussies louder than the Canadians.
Sam and Nish surfaced, fists pumping.
“KAAA-WAAA-BUNGA!” they shouted together.
“KAAA-WAAA-BUNGA!” the crowd shouted back, laughing.
Twice more they dove, Nish each time racing fearlessly up the steps and onto the tower. They tried back dives that almost worked, and a double flip that worked remarkably well. The Australians pulled off a nearly perfect flip and twist, but their third dive might as well have been called “Cannonballs off the High Tower.” They hit the water so hard, with such a huge splash, that the crowd gasped with relief just to see they were still alive.
“The results of the synchronized diving event!” the announcer’s voice echoed throughout the large pool. “Canada takes the gold medal!”
The crowd, Aussies as well as Canadians, exploded in cheers.
Nish and Sam had won the gold.
The Canadians had won the Mini-Olympics!
It seemed impossible to Travis that it was over so soon. He had looked forward to the Mini-Olympics since they’d been announced, and now they were history.
The flag had been raised, the national anthem sung, the medals strung about Nish’s and Sam’s necks, and everyone in the crowd had congratulated each other on such a marvellous day. Travis’s back had been slapped until it burned. Wiz had given him a hug so hard he thought his ribs would break – though it seemed like half the hug Wiz had reserved for Sarah.
Everyone was asking to see Nish’s medal. He had it off his neck now and was handing it about, when suddenly he stepped back from the gathering of well-wishers.
How unlike Nish, Travis thought. He’s finally got exactly what he wants, why wouldn’t he revel in it?
But then he got a better look at his friend. Nish was a little green about the gills again.
“You okay?” Travis asked his friend.
Nish burped lightly. “I don’t feel so good.”
“Something you ate?” Travis asked, grinning.
Nish looked hard at him, eyes narrowing. “Who told you?”
Travis shook his head. “Who’s going to tell Sarah?”
“What do you mean?”
“She wanted to keep that seadragon, don’t you think?”
But whatever Nish was thinking, it had nothing to do with what Sarah wanted or not. He was very green now.
He put his hand over his mouth.
With his other hand, he pushed Travis aside, running hard for the washroom.