only about fifteen feet across, but Eddie was a flying white furred mountain ram when he charged through. There was no way to stop, so he didn’t even try. He did his best, I’ll give him that. He took a mighty leap. The leap looked good, and I thought for a second he might even make it. But he sailed right into the tire swing and crashed down, all four legs pumping in the air for a moment. There was a tremendous splash and shouts of wild laughter from the far side of the room.
“Huzzah!” shouted the other team, mocking us.
Danny and Thomas stood on the opposite side of the room, appearing confident. When they saw me looking at them, they stuck out their thumbs and pointed them toward the ground. They laughed. Their teammates slapped their backs and cheered them.
Haley crawled out on the ledge above the pool and looked down unhappily. As a cat, I’m sure she didn’t want to fall in there. She took her time, but then leapt to the tire swing. It was touch and go for a second, but she managed to sink her claws in the rubber tire and hang on. Then she timed the next leap and landed on the final ledge.
But her landing was a bad one. Wood splintered as she slipped. She hung onto the ledge with her claws and scrabbled at platform. Ahead of her, she could see it, was a dark tunnel that led on to the next unknown obstacle. If she could keep going, with her competition out of the race, she could score double points for each obstacle she finished. And she could take her time doing it.
“She’s got to fall,” said Beth. “She’s just got to.”
And she did. It was my team’s turn to hoot and laugh as Haley slipped with a “ Yeow! ” and fell into the pool.
“That means were ahead, doesn’t it?” asked Beth shouting in my ear to be heard over our team’s wild cheering.
“I think so,” I said. “Depends on the ref.”
A whistle blew, one long, loud blast. We fell silent. Urdo strutted out between the two courses. She put her hands on her hips. “The obstacle ended with a tunnel, no barrier. The obstacle was therefore crossed. Two points for red.”
Danny’s people went positively ape. Some of my people booed. I shushed them. The board clicked again. Blue 2, Red 3. We were losing, but not by much.
“That’s not fair,” hissed Beth in my ear. I waved her away.
“This isn’t over yet,” I said.
I tried to think. Who should I run next?
The horn blew again. It was time for race two.
Chapter Eighteen
“These obstacles seem pretty difficult,” said Beth. “Who is going to be able to make it through a whole series of them?”
“You’re right about that,” said Jake coming up and poking his head between the two of us. “Usually, they start off with something easy, like a six-foot wall you have to climb, or a pipe you have to wriggle through.”
“Why would they make it harder than it normally is?” asked Beth.
“Maybe Vater is already here, watching us, and Urdo is trying to impress him!” said Jake.
I elbowed him and he oofed. “Hey!”
“You’re up next,” I told him.
“Me?”
“Grow a tongue in that big mouth of yours,” I said, “and put on some frog legs too. Jumping high never hurts.”
“Toad legs,” grumbled Jake.
“Get going! We only have two minutes left.”
Still grumbling, Jake bounded toward the changing tent. Already, I could see his legs were bandy and far less than straight. I smiled quietly.
“And Jake!” I said and he entered the tent and pulled the flaps after him. He poked his head back out to look at me questioningly.
“We’re all depending on you!” I told him.
It was Beth’s turn to elbow me. I looked at her in surprise. She shot me a frown and turned a smile to Jake. “You can do it! It’s just like stealing ice cream!” she shouted. Jake’s frown changed into a grin and he vanished back into the tent.
“Don’t pressure your team, encourage them!” Beth said.
I looked at her and nodded. “You’re right.”
We barely had time to get into position before the hunting horn blew again. It was time for the next race.
Jake burst out of the changing tent and hopped straight up to the line. He waited there at the bottom of the balance beam. He had changed completely into a toad this time. He wasn’t a small animal either, I figured he weighed in at least one hundred pounds of toad. He wasn’t pink, and still half-human, this time he was all toad. He had brownish and grayish skin on top, with a pale white underbelly underneath. A few of the girls wrinkled their noses. But Jake took no notice. He looked prideful, if such a thing can be imagined a toad’s face. I smiled to see his expression. A few complements from Beth had done him a lot of good.
My whole team craned their necks to see who was going to be up against him. Out of the tent walked Thomas, in dog form, head and tail held arrogantly high. He too, had gone for a full change. He was a malamute, with a fluffy curled tail, a wolf’s pointed ears and spooky, pale blue eyes. He looked over at Jake and curled back black dog lips to reveal a set of white fangs.
No one laughed immediately at Jake this time. There was just a bit of twittering from the other side. When a third horn sounded however, and Jake began hopping up the balance beam with big, laborious, humping hops, that’s when the laughter really got going. Determinedly, staring straight ahead, Jake ignored it all. He didn’t have an easy time of it. Toads are not really built to climb a narrow surface. I’d never seen a toad walking along the top edge of my back fence. I’ve seen cats and birds up there, but never a toad. This is for good reason. They are not well-built for balance.
But then again, neither are dogs. I couldn’t recall ever seeing a dog balancing up on the edge of my back fence, either. Thomas had difficulty getting a grip with his paws on the balance beam, which was varnished and smooth. I recalled watching my dog Benny try to climb a ladder. Dogs attempting a steep climb always looked funny. They just aren’t built for the task. The two slowly worked their way up their respective beams. Jake tottered, struggling not to fall off to one side or the other, while Thomas scrabbled and strained scratching desperately with his hind claws. Watching a huge toad and a dog struggling and slipping on narrow sticks of wood was too much for the crowd. Both teams laughed openly at the spectacle. Even I had to smile, despite my worries. If I hadn’t been a worried team captain, I probably would have screamed with laughter myself.
They both finally made it to the top. Thomas was slightly ahead. He nosed open the door at the top first.
“Two points red team,” shouted Urdo.
I sighed quietly to myself. Perhaps I had made a mistake. But I did not let these thoughts show on my face. I did not give the slightest hint of my concern. I felt the eyes of my own team on me, and I worked hard to look confident and determined. I let myself frown, but that was all. I didn’t want to let them lose hope just because I did. To keep everybody else doing their best, I pretended it was all part my plan.
The next obstacle, of course, was the tire swing. I had to figure that this one was probably going to be a bit easier for Jake than it would be for Thomas. How was a dog supposed to handle a tire swing? He did what he could, making an especially a big long leap across the room. Jake took a similar leap. Being a toad, he lashed out with his tongue to grab the rope that the tire hung down upon. His powerful hind legs uncoiled, firing him into the air and at
