Stargirl of the Edge

Ch 54 - Olympic Spirit

At the press conference in London, Olivia delivered an emotional appeal for her father to be released. The appeal went around the world. Shortly after, a distinguished BBC journalist contacted and came to visit with some important information. Olivia sat with her mother and listened for a while but then went back to her room.

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Olivia had been finding it more and more difficult recently to cope with the frustration and uncertainty. She flung herself onto the bed. With all that talk of shootings and atrocities, the horror was coming back again, like a boot kicking her in the teeth, repeatedly. Again and again, the boot kept on smashing into her teeth and mouth until it was bleeding. It kept on kicking her, harder and harder until all her teeth had fallen out, her eyes were purple with bruises.

She had to get up and go to the mirror on her sideboard. She looked at her face in the mirror. There was absolutely nothing wrong with her, no injuries, she was still pretty.  She returned to the bed but the kicking resumed. She curled up like an unborn child, trying to protect herself from the attack, but the boot started kicking her again and again and again, this time in the side, breaking her ribs and causing her the most severe pain.

She stood up again and felt her side. There was no injury, and yet she imagined the pain so accurately, it was almost unbearable.

She grabbed her sketch pads and charcoal and started to draw draw abstract shapes. They didn’t resemble anything, only pain, intense pain and suffering and frustration. She was tempted to tear it up into tiny pieces, probably making her hands black with the charcoal, but she left it as it was, throwing it onto the floor. 

And as she did so she heard the sound of an engine starting up and tyres crunching along the gravel and down the drive.

Now calmer, she stood up and went downstairs.

Olivia looked across the table at her mum and Liz’s eyes seemed brighter and more relaxed than they had seemed previously.

“Well?” said Olivia, “What did he say?”

Liz thought about the question carefully.

“What did he say? Well, he just said… we need to keep up the campaign, and not to give up.”

“Did he say when Dad’s going to be released?”

“No,” said Liz, pausing, “but he said… well… just keep going and, hopefully things will turn out okay.”

“Is that all?”

“Well, yes, pretty much.”

“Okay, can I have a drink of hot chocolate?”

“Sure,” said Liz, getting up.

Later that evening they switched on the TV to watch the main news. About five minutes into the programme, there he was, looking smart and distinguished in a dark suit and green tie. He was reporting on some other war-torn country in different part of the region. 

Both Liz and Olivia felt privileged to have met him earlier that day and as he concluded his report, it looked as though, in the twinkle of an eye, he was passing on a special greeting just for them. Most of the rest of the programme was devoted to the preparations for the Olympic Games, which were beginning on Friday evening.

All day Thursday and then Friday, Liz and all the others involved waited for news, but despite all the excitement and frenzy of Monday’s press statement, and the newspaper coverage the next day, despite all the calls from people who thought they might have relevant information, in spite of the arrival of the BBC correspondent and the words of encouragement he had given to Liz, not to mention the efforts of all those who continued to work hard in the search, there was no news of the whereabouts of Dennis Yang, or who had taken him, what his condition was or if he was alive or dead.