Hour of the Olympics Page 2

  Men and women lived in separate parts of a Greek house. Women spent most of their time spinning and weaving and taking care of the kitchen. Boys were sent away to school when they were seven. Girls were not allowed to go to school.

  “Girls can’t go to school?” said Annie. “How do they learn to read and write?”

  At that moment Plato returned. With him was a young woman dressed in a long tunic with a colored border. She was holding a scroll.

  Annie smiled a big smile.

  “Finally,” she said. “Another girl.”

  “Jack and Annie, meet our secret poet,” said Plato.

  The young woman smiled at Jack and Annie.

  “How did you learn to read and write?” Annie asked.

  “I taught myself,” the woman answered.

  “She wrote a poem and brought it to me,” said Plato, “because I have written and told people that I think Greek girls should go to school and learn things.”

  “Is that the poem?” said Jack. He pointed to the poet’s scroll.

  “Yes,” said the young woman.

  “It’s a wonderful story,” said Plato. “But she will get in trouble if it is read in our land. You must take it back to your faraway home, where it will be safe.”

  The poet handed Jack her scroll. He put it into his bag.

  “Tell us your name,” said Annie. “So we can tell people who wrote the story.”

  The young woman shook her head.

  “I cannot,” she said. When she saw Annie’s sad face, she added, “You can tell people it was written by Anonymous.”

  “That’s your name?” asked Annie.

  “No, anonymous means that no one knows who wrote it,” said Plato.

  “But that’s not true!” said Annie.

  “I’m afraid the risk is too great,” said Plato.

  Annie looked back at the woman.

  “I’m sorry,” said Annie. “It’s not fair—not at all.”

  The poet smiled at her. “I am happy that you will take my story to your country,” she said. “Perhaps someday women everywhere will write books just like men.”

  “They will,” said Jack. “I promise.”

  The young woman looked at him, puzzled.

  “It’s true!” said Annie.

  “Thank you, Annie,” the young woman said. “And thank you, Jack.” She bowed, then hurried out of the courtyard.

  “Wait!” said Annie.

  She started to go after the poet, but Plato stopped her.

  “Come along,” he said. “The games will start soon.”

  Plato then led Jack and Annie out of the Greek house back onto the dirt road.

  “Girls can’t write stories,” grumbled Annie. “They can’t go to school. They can’t be in plays. I’ve had enough of ancient Greece. Let’s get out of here.”

  “Wait,” said Jack. “What about the Olympics?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Annie. Her eyes got brighter. “I almost forgot.”

  “Well,” said Plato slowly. “I would like to take you both to the games. I have special seats in the viewing box. However … ” He looked at Annie.

  “Don’t tell me,” she said. “Girls can’t go to the Olympics either.”

  Plato shook his head.

  “A girl will get in terrible trouble if she goes to the games,” he said.

  Annie sighed. “It’s really, really not fair,” she said.

  “I’m sorry,” said Plato. “My country is a democracy. We believe in freedom for our citizens. But I’m afraid right now that only means men.”

  “Annie’s right. It’s not fair,” said Jack. “I think we should go home now.”

  “No, Jack. You go to the Olympics,” said Annie. “At least you can tell me about it. Take notes.”

  “What about you?” Jack said.

  “I’ll go back to that play at the outdoor theater,” Annie said. “Meet me there when you’re done.”

  Jack didn’t want to leave Annie alone. But he also didn’t want to miss the Olympics.

  “Go! Have fun!” Annie said. She began walking away. “I’ll see you later! Bye, Plato!”

  “Bye, Annie,” said Plato.

  Annie turned back again and waved.

  “I’ll tell you all about it!” Jack called.

  “This way,” said Plato.

  He and Jack turned and joined the crowd heading toward the Olympic grounds.

  “This is the very first day of the games,” Plato told Jack, “the day of the chariot races.”

  “Oh, wow,” whispered Jack.

  He couldn’t believe he was going to see a chariot race. The modern Olympic Games didn’t have chariot races.

  They walked toward the race track. Plato pointed to a large building near the road.

  “That is the gymnasium,” he said. “It is where our athletes train. They practice running and throwing the javelin and discus.”

  “We have a gymnasium at our school in Frog Creek,” said Jack. “We call it a gym.”

  “People all over the world copy us Greeks,” Plato said.

  “Wait,” said Jack. “I have to take notes for Annie.”

  He pulled out his notebook and wrote:

  “Okay, we can go,” said Jack. He tucked his notebook under his arm.

  As they moved along, Plato pointed to a beautiful tree nearby.

  “The olive tree is our sacred tree,” he said. “The winners of the games will wear crowns made from its branches.”

  “Oh, wow,” said Jack. And he wrote:

  Next they passed a beautiful statue of a winged lady.

  “Who’s that?” said Jack.

  “She’s Nike, the goddess of victory,” said Plato.

  Jack quickly wrote:

  “Nike is important to the games,” said Plato. “But the most important Olympic god is in there.”

  He took Jack to a brick building with huge columns. They stepped through the door. It was a temple. Jack gasped.

  In front of them loomed the biggest statue he had ever seen.

  The statue was at least two stories high. It was a bearded man sitting on a throne.

  “This is the temple of Zeus. And that is a statue of Zeus himself,” said Plato. “The Olympic Games are played in his honor. He is the chief god of the Greek gods and goddesses.”

  “Oh, man,” whispered Jack.

  “Yesterday all the athletes came here,” said Plato. “They swore to Zeus that they had trained for ten months. And they promised to obey the rules of the games.”

  The statue of the mighty Greek god stared down at Jack.

  Jack felt very small.

  “Hi, Zeus,” he said. His voice was small, too.

  Suddenly, trumpet sounds came from outside.

  “The hour has come,” said Plato. “We must hurry. The Olympic parade begins!”

  Plato and Jack hurried past the crowds standing at the sides of the race track. Everyone was shouting and cheering.

  “I have seats next to the judges,” said Plato. He pointed to a tall stand with rows of benches.

  Plato led Jack through the crowd and up the steps to their seats.

  “Wow, thanks,” said Jack.

  He had a great view.

  The Olympic parade had already started. Musicians playing pipes were at the front. Behind them marched the Olympic athletes—the best in all of Greece.

  Jack sighed as he watched the parade going around the track. Annie would really love this, he thought.

  “The athletes in front are the runners,” said Plato. “Foot races are the oldest event of the Olympics.”

  Jack pulled out his notebook and wrote:

  “Behind the runners are the boxers,” said Plato. “They’re wearing special gloves and bronze helmets.”

  Jack wrote:

  “Behind them are the wrestlers,” said Plato.

  And Jack wrote:

  When Jack looked up again, he saw a soldier staring up at him from the sidelines.

  The soldier was d
ressed like the actor from the outdoor theater. He had on a long cape and a red-crested helmet that covered most of his face.

  But something was strange. This soldier was short—really short.

  “Here come the discus and javelin throwers,” said Plato, “and then the men in armor.”

  “What do they do?” asked Jack.

  “They race wearing full armor,” said Plato.

  Jack smiled to himself. He knew Annie would think that was funny.

  He wrote in his notebook:

  Jack finished writing.

  He looked back at the short soldier.

  “In a moment, the chariot races will begin,” said Plato. “Winning a chariot race is the greatest honor of the games.”

  Jack just nodded. He was still studying the short soldier, who seemed to be looking back at him.

  Suddenly, a small hand came out from the soldier’s cape. The hand gave a little wave.

  Jack gasped. It was Annie’s hand waving!

  The short soldier was Annie.

  Jack stared in horror at Annie. She must have borrowed a costume from the theater!

  He remembered Plato’s words: A girl will get in terrible trouble if she tries to attend the Olympic Games.

  Jack shook his head at her and pointed his finger, as if to say, Get out of here!

  But Annie just waved at him again.

  Jack kept shaking his head at Annie. He even shook his fist.

  Annie turned back to watch the race.

  “It’s not a joke!” Jack shouted.

  Plato turned and looked at him.

  “Of course not,” said Plato. “We take the games very seriously.”

  Jack felt his face grow hot. He glared at Annie’s back.

  Just then the trumpet sounded.

  “The chariots are taking their places,” said Plato.

  Jack saw the dozens of chariots lined up on the race track. Each chariot was pulled by four horses.

  Jack glanced back at Annie. She was looking up at him, pointing at the chariots.

  The trumpet sounded again.

  The horses took off!

  The crowd went wild. They were cheering and screaming and stamping their feet.

  Clouds of dust rose up as the chariots raced around the track.

  Annie turned back to watch the race. She began jumping up and down.

  “Go! Go! Go!” she shouted.

  A few people began staring at the strange small soldier with the high-pitched voice.

  Jack couldn’t take it anymore. He had to get Annie away before it was too late!

  He shoved his notebook into his bag.

  “I have to go!” he shouted to Plato.

  The philosopher looked surprised.

  Jack was afraid to tell him that Annie had broken the rules.

  “I had a great time. But I have to go home now,” said Jack. “Thanks for everything!”

  “Have a safe journey,” said Plato.

  Jack waved and started down the steps.

  As he climbed down, he saw Annie pull off her helmet.

  Her pigtails flew up and down as she jumped and shouted, “Go! Go! Go!”

  Her soldier’s cape fell off.

  Now lots of people were staring at her. Someone shouted for the guards.

  Annie was too busy cheering to notice anything.

  Jack moved as quickly as he could.

  But two big guards got to Annie first.

  The guards tried to pull Annie away from the chariot race.

  Annie looked surprised. Then she looked angry.

  “Let go of me!” she shouted.

  Jack rushed down the steps of the viewing stand.

  The guards were having a hard time pulling Annie through all the people.

  “Leave her alone!” Jack yelled.

  His voice was lost in the noise of the race.

  He pushed his way through the crowd.

  “Leave her alone!” he kept shouting. “Leave her alone!”

  Finally, Jack reached Annie and the guards. He tried to grab her, but a guard blocked his way.

  “Let her go!” yelled Jack. “I promise I’ll take her home!”

  More guards arrived. The crowd began to shout, “Arrest her! Arrest her!”

  The guards kept pulling Annie away.

  “Jack! The story!” cried Annie.

  Of course! thought Jack. The poet’s story! This is definitely our darkest hour!

  He reached into his bag and pulled out the poet’s scroll.

  He held the story up to the sky.

  “Save Annie!” he shouted.

  But Jack’s voice was again lost in the roar of the race as the four-horse chariots barreled through the dust.

  Jack looked around wildly for someone—or something—to help them.

  Then suddenly the crowd fell silent.

  All heads turned to watch as a huge white horse galloped out of the dust.

  The crowd murmured with excitement and wonder.

  The white horse was the most beautiful animal Jack had ever seen.

  He was pulling an empty chariot.

  And he was galloping straight toward Jack.

  The white horse stopped at the low wall by the edge of the track.

  “He’s come for us!” cried Annie.

  The guards stared in awe at the horse.

  Annie broke free and dashed over to Jack. He grabbed her hand and they ran to the horse.

  The guards shouted and started after them.

  But they were too late. Jack and Annie had already climbed over the wall and into the waiting chariot.

  “Go! Go! Go!” Annie cried to the huge white horse.

  The horse reared and pawed the air.

  The crowd stepped back from the wall.

  The guards froze.

  Jack looked up to where Plato was now standing. Plato smiled and waved at him.

  Then the white horse leaped forward, pulling the chariot behind him.

  Jack couldn’t even wave back at Plato. All he could do was hold on tight as the horse galloped beside the Olympic racers.

  Jack bounced up and down. Dust and sand got in his eyes. He squeezed them shut and crouched down in the chariot.

  He didn’t know where they were going. But it didn’t matter. The white horse was in charge.

  Jack heard the thundering noise of the racing horses and chariots. He heard the screaming crowd.

  He felt sand blowing in his face and the hard bumping and rattling of the chariot.

  Suddenly, he was thrown backward. He heard a swoosh of wind, then …

  Silence.

  “Oh, wow!” cried Annie.

  Jack opened his eyes. All he saw was blue sky. He pushed his glasses into place and looked around.

  “Help!” he cried.

  The white horse had grown giant feathery wings and was pulling their chariot into the sky.

  Jack gripped the railing of the chariot and held on for his life.

  “To the tree house!” shouted Annie.

  Below, the Olympic crowd watched in stunned silence.

  The winged horse left the games behind and flew over the temple of Zeus, over the statue of Nike, over the sacred olive tree and the gymnasium.

  On they went: over the poet’s house, the Greek theater, and the field of white tents.

  Finally, the winged horse coasted to the ground near the olive grove.

  The wheels of the chariot bumped onto the grass. Then slowly, slowly, they came to a stop.

  Jack and Annie stepped out of the chariot. Jack’s legs were so wobbly he could hardly walk.

  Annie rushed to the horse and stroked his neck.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  Jack patted the horse’s long white neck too.

  “Thanks,” he said. “That was the best ride of my life.”

  The horse snorted and pawed the ground.

  “Come on, Annie. We have to go before they find us,” said Jack.

  “I don’t want to leave
him,” said Annie. “He’s the most beautiful horse in the whole world.”

  Her eyes filled with tears.

  “We have to,” said Jack.

  The horse put his head down and touched Annie’s forehead with his soft nose. Then he gave her a gentle push toward the tree house.

  Annie sniffled but started walking. Jack took her hand as they walked through the olive grove to the rope ladder of the tree house.

  “You first,” Jack said.

  Annie started up the ladder. Jack followed.

  When they were inside, Annie hurried to the window. Jack grabbed the Pennsylvania book.

  He pointed to a picture of the Frog Creek woods and said, “I wish—”

  “Look!” said Annie.

  Jack looked out the window. The horse had spread his great feathery wings. He was rising from the field.

  The white horse flew high into the blue Olympian sky.

  Then he disappeared behind the clouds.

  “Bye!” called Annie.

  A tear rolled down her cheek.

  Jack pointed again at the Pennsylvania book.

  “I wish we could go there,” he said.

  The wind started to blow.

  The tree house began to spin.

  It spun faster and faster.

  Then everything was still.

  Absolutely still.

  Jack opened his eyes.

  It was so dark he couldn’t see anything.

  He felt his clothes. He was wearing his T-shirt and jeans again. The leather bag had turned back into his backpack.

  “Hello,” said Morgan le Fay. Her voice came from the corner of the tree house.

  “Hi!” said Annie.

  “Did you have a good journey?” asked Morgan.

  “I did,” said Jack, “but girls can’t do anything fun in ancient Greece.”

  “I did one fun thing,” Annie said wistfully. “I rode in a chariot pulled by a flying horse.”

  “That must have been wonderful,” said Morgan. “You were very lucky to be bringing me the story of Pegasus.”

  “Who?” said Jack.

  “Pegasus,” said Morgan. “He’s the great white winged horse in Greek mythology.”