For the final event of the evening, the judges brought the six relay teams together and reminded everyone of the rules. The other women appeared to know what they were doing and a familiar feeling crept over Helen. She tried to concentrate on what the man was saying, but she felt like she wasn’t fitting in and was out of her element. Why was she doing this?
When the official dismissed the women, Betty gathered Helen and the two others. “Ladies, this is our race. If you have to sacrifice a little speed during transitions to get the baton, do it. How about we change up our race order? I’ll switch with Caroline, so I’ll do the hand-off to you, Helen. Sound good?”
Helen’s mouth felt dry. “But I didn’t practice with you. I was having enough trouble getting it right with Caroline; do you think it’s a good idea to change things even more?”
Betty’s cheerful expression hardened into something more serious. “Helen, I have complete faith in you. Listen for my command and then run like the wind when I hand the baton to you. You can do this.”
Suddenly Helen’s legs felt waterlogged.
“Good luck, girls!” Betty called to Caroline and Tidye as she took Helen’s arm and marched her down the track toward their starting areas.
“Doesn’t the captain usually run the first leg? Why aren’t you starting us off?” Helen asked.
“Since my crash, I can’t do the starter’s crouch comfortably anymore. It hurts my back and legs, so I’m avoiding it. That’s why I’m not running any individual races tonight. This is it for me. I’m trying out how it feels to race again tonight.”
Helen glanced to the men lining the edge of the track, writing in notebooks. Seeing the AAU officials made something click into place in Helen’s head. These women needed her. This race was important for their chances to be invited to the Olympic trials, and it was especially critical to Betty. Helen felt her shoulder being squeezed and looked down to see Betty studying her.
“Let’s show everyone what you can do tonight. All I’ve been hearing is that my chances of running again are over, but we’re going to win this, don’t you think?”
“Yes, we are,” Helen said, jogging away to take her place around the curve. Her legs still trembled, but she felt resolved now. She would not disappoint Betty.
Minutes later, the starting gun fired. Tidye’s legs wheeled around the first curve in a blur and Helen couldn’t even make out the baton transition to Caroline because they did it so seamlessly. Helen’s muscles tightened with the recollection of how she had failed the transition practice outside, but at the same time, Betty had the baton and was barreling toward her with a look of startling determination. Helen needed to loosen and face down the track, away from the women coming in, but she took one final glance over her shoulder. If Betty could run like that after all she had been through, Helen couldn’t fail her. She turned and stared at the finish ribbon. The noise of the crowd felt like it was bouncing off every surface of the building. What if she couldn’t hear Betty’s command? She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and then Betty’s voice pierced through everything.
“UP!”
Helen smiled, took a step forward, and pushed her hand back, but didn’t dare start running. A stampede of runners crashed upon her, and when the baton slammed into her hand Helen lurched into running, looking for the regulation relay lines. She couldn’t find them, but with the air thick with the swarm of bodies converging on her, there was no time to spare. It was a rocky beginning but she leapt into her stride and took off. Once she was moving, her unsteadiness vanished. She ran toward the finish line, and as the tape stretched across her chest, she raised her arms. They had done it! Lungs heaving, Helen slowed. When she stopped, Tidye, Caroline, and Betty were surrounding her, laughing and cheering and hugging.
“Better check to see if you left scorch marks along that final lane,” Caroline shouted.
“Good thing I didn’t knock you over when I ran into you.” Betty laughed.
“Ha, if anything, I’m worried that I might have hurt you during that crash,” Helen said, soaking in the exuberance of the victory. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. I’m better than fine! I feel wonderful!”
The minutes after the relay were a whirlwind of congratulations and backslapping. The women were ushered into the locker room, where they cleaned off and changed, all giddy with the thrill of winning. Helen buttoned herself into her dove-gray serge dress, feeling nearly limp with relief that the relay was over with no mishaps.
Betty appeared at her side, straightening her skirt. “So, do you have any plans now? What do you say we go out and celebrate?”
Helen couldn’t believe her luck. “That would be swell. My coach ended up having to go back to Missouri because his wife went into labor with their first baby so I’m on my own, staying in a boardinghouse down by the university.”
“We can go somewhere nearby.”
“Count me in.”
Moments later, Helen gathered outside on the sidewalk with Betty, Caroline, and a tall man introduced as Howard, Caroline’s husband. The rain had held off and the wind that buffeted them felt chilly yet refreshing. “I’ll bet we can find a place to eat if we head toward the city,” Betty said, pointing toward lights down the street. Tidye had needed to go home, but the rest of the group set off in that direction.
“Goodness, I think I need to take four steps to every one of yours,” said Betty, skipping to keep pace with Helen.
“Sorry.” Helen slowed, her face reddening. She took a look at Betty, marveling that the woman whose face had graced her childhood bedroom’s wall in Fulton for years was now beside her—in the flesh!
“Don’t be sorry. Your long stride is”—Betty shook her head—“amazing.”
“Thanks.” Helen was searching her mind for what she could say, something interesting and witty, when they passed a little joint with a sign lit up in the window saying BAR.
“What do you think? How about we head in here?” Betty asked.
“That’s certainly not where my coach and his wife take me after races.” Helen laughed and then pointed to a placard in the window: No unescorted ladies will be served. “But what about that?”
“You forget, we’ve got Howard with us,” Betty said.
Caroline and Howard lagged behind, walking arm in arm, so close their heads practically touched, and Helen studied them with a dart of longing. To be a competitive athlete and have found love—what a lucky life Caroline led.
“If this is what you city folks do, then count me in,” Helen said as they entered the low-ceilinged dim interior. Only a few men sat at stools around the bar and the handful of tables were open. Along with a haze of cigarette smoke, a scratchy recording of “Blue Moon” drifted over the place from a gramophone. Howard left the women as he went off to find the men’s restroom, and Betty plunked her pocketbook onto a table and began to pull off her coat.
“Think they serve food here? I’m famished,” Helen said.
“If they do, I’m not sure you’ll want to eat it,” Caroline answered, pulling a lipstick from her handbag and quickly tracing it over her lips.