Well, I knew one thing that would help me sleep. And I was pretty sure Veronica would give in if I could just get to her. I slid on my sweatpants and a T-shirt and slipped out of the ger.
In spite of the party that was still going on, it was pitch dark outside. No electric lights here. But that would make it easier to sneak into Sansar-Huu’s ger. Now, where was it?
I tripped over various things as I stumbled in the direction of the tent. Everyone must either have been asleep or have moved to another location. I hoped Ronnie had decided to get some sleep. Of course, if I had my way, there wouldn’t be much of that going on.
I was making my way around the side of the tent when I heard something behind me. There was nothing there. That wasn’t unusual. People were all over the place, and the ones still up were probably drunk. I turned my attention back to the door of the ger.
I heard something whisk through the air and then my vision was flooded with stars and pain. I shot my arm out behind me instinctively, and I managed to grab the weapon. But whoever had been on the other end let go and disappeared before I could identify him.
“Cy?” Veronica stood in the doorway wearing a T-shirt and shorts. She was vertical, then horizontal. No, wait, I was horizontal. At least, that was what I was thinking as everything went black.
The naadam field was packed. Following an exquisite version of the eagle dance, I turned to face my opponent and slapped my thighs. The giant guinea pig before me did the same and we approached each other to begin. It was hard to get a grip on his silky hair. And he looked so cute I didn’t really want to fight him. But I was here to win.
“Cy!” Chudruk must have slapped me. As I looked up into his face, I realized I’d been dreaming.
“I’m okay.” I started to sit up but a blinding pain forced me back down. There was blood on my hands. I had been hit.
Sansar-Huu held up a thick branch. “He hit you with this. We found you when Veronica screamed.”
Veronica was sitting beside me, her face twisted with concern.
“Someone hit me?”
“I didn’t see who it was.” Veronica grabbed my hand.
Odgerel started examining the wound on the back of my head. I could feel the heat from the lantern she held.
“You won’t need stitches, I think,” she said slowly. “But you should not wrestle.”
Yalta came into the ger, and everyone went quiet. He examined my wound and looked into my eyes. Then he spoke to Chudruk in Mongolian. I think he said my testicles should be fed to the marmots. Man, I really needed to work on my language skills.
“Pop says you do not need to wrestle. The decision is up to you, though,” Chudruk said solemnly.
I looked at all of them. It was generous of my zazul. And he did have two more athletes competing. On the other hand, I came all this way just to do this. I had trained for a month for an event that happened only once a year. These people-my friends-gave their hospitality to me.
“You shouldn’t compete,” Ronnie said firmly. “You have a concussion at the very least. You need to see a doctor.”
Sansar-Huu nodded and Odgerel clucked sympathy. Sartre peeked out of Ronnie’s hands and gave a firm, loud, “Wheek!”
I got up and shook my head gently. “When is my first match?”
Yalta spoke to his son.
“Pop can arrange for you to fight later in the day. He has a friend here in Ulaanbaatar who is a doctor. I will go find him.” And with that, Chudruk left. I grinned. He knew me so well.
“No!” Veronica shouted. “He’s concussed! He could have brain damage.”
I shook my head, which, by the way, hurt considerably. “This is a grappling sport. There won’t be any more injury to my head. I can’t let everyone down.”
To my astonishment, Chudruk reentered the ger with a tall man in a red deel, carrying a satchel. How did he do that so quickly? Maybe I was really messed up to the point that hours had actually passed instead of minutes?
We were all quiet while he examined me. Dr. Baatar asked me the usual questions to determine my level of confusion. He looked at my pupils and inquired about the pain. When he finished, he closed up his bag.
“You seem to be all right. But I worry about that headache,” he said in perfect English. “Other than that, you have no symptoms of vomiting, confusion or memory loss. Your pupils are not dilated.” The doctor tapped his head. “But if the headache gets worse, no wrestling.”
I watched as Yalta slapped him on the back and Chudruk walked him out. Ronnie was staring holes into me. That was one thing about relationships I did not miss: having another’s will imposed on me.
“My friend.” Sansar-Huu sat down beside me. “Are you certain of this?”
“It is not necessary for you to fight,” Chudruk added. I hadn’t even noticed he’d come back.
“Guys, look. I’m fine. I’m going to participate,” I insisted. To my left, I could feel Veronica’s eyes go into laser-beam mode.
Yalta nodded and left, as did everyone but Veronica.
“You cannot wrestle,” she said once everyone had cleared the tent.
I reached around and gingerly touched the back of my head. It was tender, but the bleeding had stopped. The dried blood would have to be rinsed out before I fought. I didn’t want my opponent to know I’d been injured. Fortunately, the doctor had not wrapped my head.
“I said,” Ronnie repeated, “you are not going to wrestle.”
“I heard you.”
She sighed. “I can’t stop you, can I?”
I turned to her. “Look, has it even occurred to you to wonder who hit me and why?”
That stopped her short. “Is that even important at this point? Is that why you are doing this? To show whoever it was that he didn’t stop you?” Veronica threw her hands up in the air. “This is about pride?”
“Actually, no. I’m not that shallow. This is about the fact that I worked very hard to do this. It’s not even about winning. It is about following through.”
Her hands came to rest on her hips. “So it is about pride.”
“No. It isn’t. And don’t tell me what to do.”
“So you’re like a child who does it because the parent says not to do it.”
I cocked my head to the side. “You think of yourself as my parent? That’s kinky. Especially for you.”
“Uh, no. I don’t. I just think you are being unreasonable and immature.” Her voice took on a dangerous timbre.
“Or maybe I’m being responsible.” I rose to my feet. Daylight was sparking under the doorway, and I needed to get back to my cot to rest. It took all of my strength to stride nonchalantly to the door.
Unfortunately, Veronica followed. “You are just plain stubborn. What is it with men?”
Her questions came and went unanswered as I concentrated on walking casually to my tent. Whoever had hit me, for whatever reason, might be watching. And yes, my stubborn pride wanted them to think I was just fine.
I opened the door to the ger and slammed it behind me in Ronnie’s face. It was rude, but I needed some peace and quiet. The boys were gone, probably too excited about the festivities.
Ronnie didn’t take the hint and entered the tent.
“Don’t shut me out, Cy, just because I tell you something you don’t want to hear.”
I lay down on my cot and closed my eyes.
“Don’t lie down! Aren’t you supposed to stay awake with a concussion?”
“Veronica,” I said through gritted teeth, “my head hurts, so I doubt I will get any sleep. I just need some time to concentrate on my training. I don’t mean to be rude, but will you please leave me alone?”