✅ My Sister's Problem

108. Registration & Preparation

I was just thinking that when the guy in front of me in the queue disappeared, and I was the next to go forward. I must have been lost in my thoughts for longer than I had realised. I came forward, let them stamp one of the marks on my wristband, and filled out my name and age on the insurance forms. The fact that I was carrying my skates over my shoulder probably made the bureaucrats at the desk treat me a little more seriously; the curious might be looking to borrow some skates, while the overconfident who'd never been in an actual sporting event before would be wearing theirs. But in my experience, carrying them in a dedicated bag had always been a sign of organisation; something nobody ever seemed to do unless they had past experience of organised events.

The lady who took my form asked if I'd be paying to enter, and I presented my bracelet. It was a thin strip of plastic-coated paper, like those ID things they give hospital patients, but they could scan it to see who I was, and to determine that Mum had prepaid to let me take part in any four events. When the computer bleeped, she wished me good luck and went on to serving the next person in line. I didn't know if she really meant it, or if that was something she said to everyone. But I hoped that I wouldn't need it.

I walked around in the marketplace for a while, checking out the stalls that had appeared for the sports day. It was treated like a proper festival here, a way to bring all the people of the town together and attract tourists. I was always excited to try different kinds of street food, because there were nearly always stalls trying something new from somewhere in the wider world. But this time, it felt like a novelty just to be buying something for myself; I'd only been a baby for a few days, but it felt so strange to be out on my own again, and I promised myself that I would make the most of it.

I could have looked for something exotic and new, but there were too many enticing smells as soon as I started looking around. Five minutes later I had a bag of churros in one hand, and the other held a little tub of cinnamon chocolate sauce to dip them in.

It still felt a little weird paying a vendor on the street with a contactless card; they were the kind of people who would have been cash-only until a couple of years ago. Of course, the festival had always been a little way ahead of the trend, using paper bracelets that they could scan to charge stuff to a budget that Mum would have paid in advance, or before that they'd had tear-off paper tabs or stamp cards to let you buy stuff. Having so many athletes in town meant there was no space for proper changing facilities, and the skaters especially wouldn't want to fall onto a pocket full of coins, or a cellphone. Now the event organisers didn't need to implement their own systems, because a card didn't take up any space in my pocket, but it still reminded me that the market stalls here had adapted to the latest technology a couple of years before anyone at home.

I wandered around a little while I was waiting for the event to start. I wondered what Lindy was doing; I would have liked to watch her, and to cheer her on. My eyes went up periodically to the balconies around the square, where people who preferred to compete in art could be seen watching over the event. But I didn't see her until the first call had gone out for the descent.

"Competitors for aided cliff descent, to the Mayham Beach parking lot!" the announcer called over the loudspeakers, and my pulse started racing again. "Aided cliff descent to Mayham Beach parking. If you don't know the way, event staff can help you. Remember, look for the purple tabards."

I strode off in the right direction. Of course, I knew where I was going. I also knew enough to jump onto a shop's fire escape on the way there. The rough metal of the staircase wasn't the most comfortable place to sit while I pulled my skates on, but it would beat standing around desperately trying to find somewhere at the start of the course.

The descent wasn't an inline-only race. There would be people there on all kinds of skates, as well as skateboards and all kinds of other wheeled options. About the only thing I wouldn't be racing against would be bikes, which couldn't take the sharp turns on this course. Although I remembered the last time I'd taken part, Dad had managed to snap a perfectly timed photo of me being overtaken by some guy on a unicycle of all things.

The course had a lot of sharp turns as it zigzagged back and forth from the clifftop parking lot down to the beach., and your ability to take a corner at speed would matter a whole lot more than just how fast you could go.

I was already getting excited as I made my way to the meetup point. But I lost my focus for just a moment when I saw Lindy grinning at me in the crowds. She was looking over the people streaming past, like I might have expected if she was going to paint some kind of abstract interpretation of the bustling crowds. But I was surprised to see as the crowds parted for an instant that she had neither a camera nor a sketchbook in her hands. In fact, she was still in a registration queue. That wasn't a particular surprise, because most events allowed you to sign up any time before the start. But it was weird to see that she wasn't actively doing anything nearly an hour after Mum had dropped us off. And it was even stranger to see her lining up before a sign that announced the crossbow tournament to the world. It wasn't an event I would have expected her to have any interest in; and certainly didn't give her a good chance of getting a medal without any previous experience.

If I'd had the chance, I would have liked to go and watch how she did. But sports day was going to be pretty hectic if we both wanted to join four different events, so I just promised myself I would check back the score sheets at that stand later. I at least wanted to know how Lindy had done, so I would know whether to congratulate her or comfort her when we got home. No amount of rivalry would stop me supporting my sister in whatever area she chose to compete in.

I only had time to send my sister a couple of good thoughts, something that might have been almost a prayer for her success if I'd been more religious. And then I was at the top of the steep pathway leading down to the beach; a quarter mile along the coast from the bay where our holiday home was. Here, there was no way to drive down to the beach, and the choice was between the slalom I was about to skate, or a flight of two hundred and seventy steep steps, currently packed with spectators.

As I glanced around me at my rivals, I felt more alive than I had in the whole summer. It didn't matter if I won today; just so long as I'd taken part. And this was the one part of our trip that I was glad Lindy couldn't take away from me.