Breathless: The Adventures of A Gymnast (Marci Book 1) Read online

  mother, as Marci raced to the car.

  With their luggage loaded they headed to the

  airport.

  Chapter 2

  The Flight

  Outside, there was little traffic. The road was

  dry and visibility was good. The conditions for

  driving could not have been better. And because

  time was short Marci's father took full advantage.

  As he merged onto the highway, he pushed the

  pedal nearly to the floor. The ca4, a sporty, light gray

  Honda Prelude, purred like a ca! then raced forward.

  For a moment, the quick acceleration pushed

  the passengers heavily against their seats. The children

  smiled with excitement.

  "You should drive like this all the time," joked

  Marci.

  The gray car streaked down the highway at

  a little over eighty miles per hour. In the distance a

  mass of silver planes and gray buildings slowly rose

  into view.

  "Wow!" exclaimed Marci as she watched a

  huge 747 spray dark trails of smoke into the air,

  and climb steadily into the sky.

  " Are we going to fly in one of those?"

  Craig waited until the booming of the plane's

  four massive engines faded into the distance.

  "Yeah, Rat we're gonna fly in a jet," he responded

  The sight of the massive plane was spectacular.

  Marci couldn't help but imagine what it would

  be like onboard. She pictured the plane inside filled

  with all of her favorite delights. The first thing she

  pictured was a mammoth display of all different

  kinds of desserts, like a bakery. The plane would

  have the best desserts, from chocolate éclairs to

  raspberry tortes, each covered with generous

  mounds of whipped cream. Then she imagined a

  whirlpool with a big screen TV to one side. It would

  be great - she could relax while watching her favorite movies.

  She felt like she was daydreaming for a long

  time, but actually it was only a matter of minutes.

  Before long they arrived at the airport. Of course

  she knew the plane wouldn't be as fantastic as she

  had dreamt. Her mother had told her all about flying,

  but there was no harm in hoping.

  After papers and passports were checked,

  Marci and Craig embraced their father and boarded

  the plane. Marci sat in the seat closest to the window.

  She eagerly pressed her face against the sma11

  portal, and stared down at the engine. First came a

  click, then a clunk. Finally the engine began to vibrate.

  Aloud, dull buzz filled the compartment. The

  harsh drone of the engine rapidly progressed from

  low to high. When it reached its maximum intensity

  the jet lurched forward, rumbled down the

  runway/ and quickly leaped into the air. Marci

  laughed and giggled.

  "It's just like a roller coaster ride," She yelled

  to her brother over the constant hum of the engines.

  Craig nodded in agreement. The plane continued

  a steep climb and entered a large body of clouds.

  Outside, billowy clouds were hanging to the left

  and right of the plane. To Marci, it looked like a big

  tunnel of cotton candy. She watched in delight as

  the plane traveled through the misty cavity and

  then rocketed into the blue sky. The flight from

  Rhode Island to Philadelphia took only about forty-five

  minutes. While en route, the stewardess, a

  small woman with auburn hair and gentle eyes,

  kept a careful watch. She answered their questions

  and attended to their needs. It was her job to see

  that all unaccompanied minors felt safe and knew

  where to go once the plane landed.

  But first she tended to their stomachs. After

  drinking all the soda a ten-year-old can stand, and

  eating a heap of salted nuts, Marci let out a long

  burp. Then she looked at her brother and smiled.

  "I'm finished," she said with a smug look on

  her face.

  Craig looked up from the magazine he had

  been reading to see his sister wiping traces of peanuts

  and soda from her lips.

  "Hey Rat, how did you get salt on your

  nose?" he asked in disbelief. Craig reached over

  and gently brushed the tip of Marci's nose with his

  finger. Small grains of salt mixed with bits of nuts

  fell onto her tee-shirt. Marci looked down at the

  tiny specks, then smiled.

  "It takes a lot of practice," said the little girl.

  "Would you like me to teach you?"

  "No thanks," replied Craig. Mimicking a pig,

  he sniffed and snorted as he buried his nose into a

  bag of nuts. "I can figure this one out for myself."

  Marci stuck her tongue out at her brother,

  then yawned deeply. Though still early, the constant

  excitement along with a belly full of nuts was

  making her a little tired.

  Moments later, a yellow sign overhead

  flashed on. Then a voice over the loudspeaker

  warned all passengers to fasten their seatbelts. The

  plane approached the runway and before long,

  landed with a bump and a tug. After exiting the

  plane, the children weaved their way through a

  throng of people crowding the Philadelphia airport.

  At gate 27 they boarded their plane for Frankfurt,

  a huge jet. Marci was excited to board because it

  was similar to the 747 she had seen before she arrived.

  Once all the passengers were situated, the

  large plane began a thunderous roll down the runway

  and gracefully slid into the air. The transition

  from ground to air was seamless. Marci, who now

  sat in the middle of the last row to the left of her

  brother, turned and asked,

  "Are we in the air yet?"

  Her brother tried to see out the windows, first

  to his left then to his right. Finally, he shrugged his

  shoulders and said, "Your guess is as good as

  mine." Without missing a beat, Marci, a rambunctious

  little girl with few inhibitions, turned and

  asked the rough looking stranger sitting to her left.

  " Are we in the air yet?"

  There was no response. He did not hear her.

  The stranger appeared totally enveloped in

  a novel, which he held close to his face. From the

  edge of the book Marci could see his gray eyes

  searching about as if in a panic. His eyes were like

  those of a wild animal on the lookout for danger.

  Though she thought it was an unusual way to read,

  it was probably brought on by " a fear of flying."

  Marci asked again,

  " Are we in the air yet?"

  This time he heard her. His eyes stopped shifting.

  A look of concern passed over his face. Slowly

  and nervously the unshaven stranger turned and

  peered over the edge of his book, allowing only

  the top half of his face to become visible. When he

  realized it was just a little girl he sighed deeply,

  and rolled his eyes. The stranger paused momentarily,

  feeling a slight sway of the plane, and then

  he spoke.

  "Yes! We are in the air.
Now please stop bothering

  me," he said in a gruff and cold voice. Then

  he raised the book again and covered the rest of his

  face.

  As he did, an uneasy silence settled over all

  the passengers sitting nearby. Her brother Craig,

  concerned for his sister, cautiously glanced over his

  left shoulder. He wanted to see how Marci was taking

  the rude man's insensitive remarks. She sat in

  deep thought, squinting her eyes and pursing her

  lips. Though onlookers might have mistaken her

  expression for mere contemplation Craig knew

  differently. This was her expression of war; whenever

  she went to battle there was no concern for

  consequences. He had seen this look many times

  before. It usually arose in gymnastic competitions

  just before her most powerful vault, a hand spring

  tuck front. In this case the expression meant that

  she had decided to pull out all the stops. Marci,

  although still a child, had little tolerance for rudeness

  and cared nothing about size or age. The crude,

  unsuspecting man was in for a tongue lashing that

  even those sitting nearby "would remember for a

  thousand years."

  Fearing his sister might start a riot, Craig

  spoke first.

  "Marci, how ya doin'?" Marci was silent.

  "How would you like some more nuts?" he

  asked. Still Marci remained in deep thought.

  "All right you little rat bag, I know you're

  gettin' hungry. Here, have some more peanuts and

  pop. You rat bags always love to eat." Intrigued by

  the new description, being called a" rat bag, as oppose

  to just a "rat," Marci turned to see what her

  brother was up to. It was a hilarious sight. Marci

  saw her brother pretending to be a rat holding a

  small bag of nuts in one hand, and a soda in the

  other. She laughed and reached for the bag of nuts.

  Before long the incident with the cross man was

  forgotten. Craig and Marci sat with their seats fully

  reclined, eating nuts, drinking soda, and laughing

  loudly.

  "So, is there anything special you want to do

  when we get to Germany?" Craig mumbled

  through a mouthful of nuts.

  "Yeah. Eat some soda and drink some nuts,,,

  giggled Marci.

  The flight was long and Craig would soon

  regret the question he had previously asked. Since

  it took about nine hours to fly from Philadelphia to

  Frankfurt Marci took the opportunity to share with

  her brother all the important things she wanted to

  accomplish before her eleventh birthday. These

  things included, but were not limited to, exploring

  the ancient pyramids, discovering the lost city of

  Atlantis and in general changing the world. Her

  brother just listened absent-mindedly while nodding

  his head and interjecting an occasional "wow"

  whenever the situation called for it. His little sister

  rambled on and on for a long time. Not being a

  very good listener, Craig found it hard to stay

  awake. He struggled to keep his eyes open and even

  snuck in a nap or two, before Marci discovered that

  he was sleeping and nudged him back to consciousness.

  He was a captive audience and he knew his

  sister would milk it for all it was worth.

  As the plane rumbled through the sky, one

  of the stewardesses, a tall woman with long black

  hair, dark brown eyes, and an amiable expression

  walked carefully down the aisle nearest Craig and

  asked,

  "What would you like for dinner? Roasted

  chicken or vegetarian lasagna? “Craig looked at his

  sister to see what she thought of the choices. Marci

  glanced up and rolled her eyes. Being a finicky

  eater, vegetables with noodles and baked birds were

  rarely on her menu. So in recognition of Marci’s

  favorite foods Craig asked, "Don’t you have any_

  thing like hamburgers or pizza?,,

  "No," said the congenial woman with a look

  of regret. "just chicken and lasagna.,,

  It was a dismal selection and although neither

  was hungry, they both ordered chicken dinners,

  just in case the plane was running short on

  nuts.

  "I'd like chicken too," interrupted the mean

  fellow sitting beside Marci.

  "And bring me some more of that rum,,, he

  demanded in a cold voice, "I'm getting thirsty.,, The

  stewardess nodded her head and departed to fill

  the orders.

  When she returned, the plane was filled with

  the sweet savory smell of oregano and garlic. The

  smell from the roasted chicken was so captivating

  that even Marci, "a hamburger type of girl,,, was

  tempted to take a few bites.

  After all the passengers had eaten and the

  meal trays were removed, Marci and Craig settled

  in for a nap. The time passed quickly for the children

  but not for the unusual man seated next to

  them. He sat beside the little girl, unapproachable

  and rigid as a rock. Like a caged animal he flashed

  a threatening scowl at all who approached, and because

  his seat lay close to the bathroom he grimaced

  often. Getting to his destination was his main focus

  and it couldn't happen fast enough. Finally,

  when the kids awoke, the plane was circling over

  Frankfurt preparing to land.

  "Get up, little rat! We're landing!" teased

  Craig as he raised his seat and buckled his belt.

  Marci opened her eyes and did likewise. She was

  kind of "bummed out" because she fell asleep while

  watching a really exciting movie. It was one of those

  "awesome spy thrillers" that her parents wouldn't

  let her see because it was too violent. Realizing she

  missed out on a great opportunity, Marci shook her

  head in disappointment. The plane ,landing, hissed

  like a snake and howled like a wolf as it thundered

  across the runway and came to a gentle halt.

  Chapter 3

  Germany

  As expected, they arrived in Frankfurt. The

  passengers, who had been crowded together for almost

  nine hours, breathed a communal sigh of relief.

  "It's about time!" murmured the grumpy

  man now fidgeting beside Marci. He stood and

  opened the luggage compartment above his head.

  Apparently his bag was buried under a lot of other

  luggage. With a great deal of pushing and pulling

  he managed to free it, not caring if he damaged

  other peoples' luggage in the process.

  "It's about time!" He repeated as he huffed

  and puffed. His luggage a common green military

  knapsack, had one distinguishing mark - a small

  faded American flag sewn into the supporting

  strap. To Marci, his sack looked almost empty' She

  wondered why anyone would even bother to bring

  it. But at the time, she didn't give it much thought,

  she just wanted that nasty man to take what belonged

  to him and leave.

  Like he had read her mind, he did exactly

  what she wi
shed. With his faded knapsack draped

  over his shoulder, he pushed and shoved his way

  past the long line of people crowding the aisle and

  exited the plane as quickly as possible. Marci and

  Craig waited patiently until the crowd died down

  before getting off the p1ane. Unlike most of the passengers,

  they were in no rush. The plane landed at

  4:15 in the afternoon, and fortunately, the final leg

  of their trip was by train and was not due to depart

  until 5:30 PM. Even though the plane landed fifteen

  minutes behind schedule, Marci and Craig

  were still not concerned because the train station

  was located just below the airport, in an expansive

  reservoir of tunnels.

  After leaving the plane, collecting their luggage,

  and flashing their passports, they headed

  downstairs in search of their train. The station was

  dense with crowds of hurrying people. Apparently,

  Frankfurt was one of the busiest airports in Germany.

  Marci smiled when she saw the large crowds

  of people moving about and said to her brother,

  "This is a fun place."

  The station was overflowing with people

  from many different countries. They ranged from

  tall to short old to young and dark to light. Like a

  fish bowl at feeding time, the train station was teaming

  with activity. For Marci, it was a dream come

  true, and she was loving it. Craig, sensing his

  sister's excitement, grabbed hold of her hand and

  began pushing through the crowd. Although Marci

  wanted to wrench her hand free and throw a few

  punches, she resisted the temptation. She knew

  there would be plenty of time to "teach him who’s

  boss" once they boarded the train. Slowly, they

  pushed and weaved their way through the international

  crowd. They reached dock eight with

  twenty minutes to spare. Marci pulled her hand free

  from her brother's grasp and waited beside the

  rails. In the distance, the bright headlight of a train

  approached. Those waiting rushed the track and

  jostled for the best positions' Marci' fearing she

  might be accidentally pushed onto the tracks' swallowed

  her pride and grabbed Craig's hand again'

  This time she held tight'

  The 12B, a long, gray train with large windows,

  arrived on dock eight' The doors opened

  with a swish. Marci and Craig were quickly swept

  on board by the crowding mass' They searched for