Parrish on the treadmill, and his heart thumped hard against his chest. Then the illusion disintegrated. A man who looked like Parrish was on the treadmill, someone Cooper had never seen before. He was overcome with hostility.
How dare he!
Cooper cast a troubled glance toward Beth, who shrugged and abruptly turned away. He could not chase away his anger. Blake would have noticed by now, and would be mocking him with silent laughter. What were the others thinking of him? He especially wondered what Beth was thinking. He took his position on the treadmill, but instead of a gradual warm-up, he accelerated immediately, trying to fulfill a sudden need to be competitive with the strange man next to him. Cooper imagined himself in a race, his mind focused on winning at all costs.
Cooper’s feet pounded the treadmill. Beside him, he heard the other treadmill’s motor change pitch, speeding up, straining for more revolutions. He too pushed his controls to the maximum setting. The man beside him seemed to match it. Cooper concentrated on the speed of his legs, pushing himself far beyond his normal limits. In his mind it became a test of will and endurance, the prize being Parrish’s honor. The man had taken Parrish’s treadmill, and he needed to be defeated.
The race went on past Cooper’s usual cutoff point. The digital screen displayed forty-five minutes. He imagined himself speeding along a landscape, upward over mountain trails, around winding switchbacks, through flat pastures, downward following flowing streams.
Then suddenly he detected a change in the whir of the treadmill beside him. The man was faltering. Cooper was winning, but he did not slow down. Peripherally, he could see the man decelerating. Sweat soaked through his T-shirt and Cooper could hear his hard breathing as the man brought the speed of the treadmill down gradually.
The man must taste the humiliation of defeat , Cooper thought. This win was for Parrish.
Cooper saw Blake watching him intently. Was Blake disappointed that he had won?
Finally, Cooper also decelerated. Winning the race had calmed him down. As he wound down, he saw Beth studying him with more than her usual probing intensity.
What does she see? he wondered.
“Sig Kessler,” an accented voice said. It was the man on the treadmill beside him. He had gotten off and was blotting his face with a towel. He held out his hand and was smiling broadly. Cooper, used to Parrish’s stoicism and disinterest, was taken aback. Although he was reluctant to respond, there seemed no way for Cooper to avoid it.
“Jack Cooper,” he replied, taking the man’s hand. It was moist.
“Been coming here long?” Kessler asked.
“Yeah,” Cooper said, hoping his closed attitude might discourage the man from further conversation.
“I just joined. You like it?”
“It’s okay.”
“I need it. I live a sedentary life. I’m a chauffeur.”
Sig Kessler seemed to be waiting for a response. Cooper wasn’t inclined to give one. He had already received more information than he wanted from this man. Cooper turned away and moved onto the weight machines.
When he finished his sets, he started toward the locker room, but was waylaid by Beth.
“I see they’ve already got a replacement.”
He knew what she meant, but it seemed an odd way to put it.
“He’s a member. He has a right to use any machine in the room he wants.”
“You didn’t look too happy about him being there.”
Beth stood in front of Cooper, blocking his way.
“I guess there’s no escaping your surveillance,” Cooper said, unable to hold back his sarcasm.
“Big Sister is watching,” she said.
“I wish she wouldn’t,” he sighed, trying to get past her.
“We could have a cup of coffee, like yesterday,” Beth said hurriedly just as he outmaneuvered her.
“Can I clean up first?” he said, showing little enthusiasm.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” she said, winking.
Now he was dead certain. The woman was
How dare he!
Cooper cast a troubled glance toward Beth, who shrugged and abruptly turned away. He could not chase away his anger. Blake would have noticed by now, and would be mocking him with silent laughter. What were the others thinking of him? He especially wondered what Beth was thinking. He took his position on the treadmill, but instead of a gradual warm-up, he accelerated immediately, trying to fulfill a sudden need to be competitive with the strange man next to him. Cooper imagined himself in a race, his mind focused on winning at all costs.
Cooper’s feet pounded the treadmill. Beside him, he heard the other treadmill’s motor change pitch, speeding up, straining for more revolutions. He too pushed his controls to the maximum setting. The man beside him seemed to match it. Cooper concentrated on the speed of his legs, pushing himself far beyond his normal limits. In his mind it became a test of will and endurance, the prize being Parrish’s honor. The man had taken Parrish’s treadmill, and he needed to be defeated.
The race went on past Cooper’s usual cutoff point. The digital screen displayed forty-five minutes. He imagined himself speeding along a landscape, upward over mountain trails, around winding switchbacks, through flat pastures, downward following flowing streams.
Then suddenly he detected a change in the whir of the treadmill beside him. The man was faltering. Cooper was winning, but he did not slow down. Peripherally, he could see the man decelerating. Sweat soaked through his T-shirt and Cooper could hear his hard breathing as the man brought the speed of the treadmill down gradually.
The man must taste the humiliation of defeat , Cooper thought. This win was for Parrish.
Cooper saw Blake watching him intently. Was Blake disappointed that he had won?
Finally, Cooper also decelerated. Winning the race had calmed him down. As he wound down, he saw Beth studying him with more than her usual probing intensity.
What does she see? he wondered.
“Sig Kessler,” an accented voice said. It was the man on the treadmill beside him. He had gotten off and was blotting his face with a towel. He held out his hand and was smiling broadly. Cooper, used to Parrish’s stoicism and disinterest, was taken aback. Although he was reluctant to respond, there seemed no way for Cooper to avoid it.
“Jack Cooper,” he replied, taking the man’s hand. It was moist.
“Been coming here long?” Kessler asked.
“Yeah,” Cooper said, hoping his closed attitude might discourage the man from further conversation.
“I just joined. You like it?”
“It’s okay.”
“I need it. I live a sedentary life. I’m a chauffeur.”
Sig Kessler seemed to be waiting for a response. Cooper wasn’t inclined to give one. He had already received more information than he wanted from this man. Cooper turned away and moved onto the weight machines.
When he finished his sets, he started toward the locker room, but was waylaid by Beth.
“I see they’ve already got a replacement.”
He knew what she meant, but it seemed an odd way to put it.
“He’s a member. He has a right to use any machine in the room he wants.”
“You didn’t look too happy about him being there.”
Beth stood in front of Cooper, blocking his way.
“I guess there’s no escaping your surveillance,” Cooper said, unable to hold back his sarcasm.
“Big Sister is watching,” she said.
“I wish she wouldn’t,” he sighed, trying to get past her.
“We could have a cup of coffee, like yesterday,” Beth said hurriedly just as he outmaneuvered her.
“Can I clean up first?” he said, showing little enthusiasm.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” she said, winking.
Now he was dead certain. The woman was
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