Later,all four of us waited on the platform where they would bestow us with medals. I remained disguised under my face protector. No need to hide my smile, I thought, since no one could see my face.
The head judge carried three medals attached to ribbons across his arms. One would be for me. I would have it to show my children. Do you see what your father and I did together? I would say.
I glanced at Viktor. He was with our families, all of them smiling.
The head judge raked a gloved hand through his long white beard. “It’s come to our attention that Cecile Barnacle will have to be disqualified.”
A gasp went through the crowd. Had he said what I thought he’d said? Disqualified? But why?
“We have learned through an anonymous source that Cecil is in fact a woman.”
Something between a murmur of dissension and shock ran through the crowd. Those in the know were not surprised, obviously, but there were enough folks from out of town that it came as a genuine surprise. I made eye contact with Viktor and then Fiona. They appeared to be frozen.
The judge stepped closer to me. “Are you indeed Cymbeline Barnes?”
Shards of ice glistened in his thick silver mustache. His eyes were as pale as a spring morning sky, with red-tinted eyelids. I hated him and his rabbit eyes.
I stared back at him, determined to pretend to be unintimidated. Inside, however, a thousand toy soldiers were storming though my stomach. How had he known? Who had told them?
He shouted theatrically. “We have no choice but to strip this imposter of her scores.”
I closed my eyes. Dismay rushed through me. After all this work and courage, I would be disqualified.
“Take off your mask,” the judge said.
I trembled with rage and embarrassment. No, I told myself. Don't let him see how much it hurts. I ripped my hat off my head and glared at him.
Another wave of noises came from the crowd, albeit quieter this time. The people from my own community had gone still and mute.
“Young lady, this is a serious offense,” the judge said.
“Why?” I asked. “Because I beat them by a country mile?”
Laughter from those gathered around cheered me some. Still, sweat trickled down my back despite the chilly temperatures.
“Let her compete,” a gruff voice called out from somewhere in the throng of people gathered around. Mr. Johnson? In my state, I couldn't be sure, but I thought it was Mr. Johnson.
“She beat 'em fair and square,” someone else yelled.
“Who cares if she's a woman?” a female voice called out from the back. Nora.
From the front, a man's voice came next. “You should see her with a pistol.”
I hid a smile behind my hand.
Next to me, the man who had come in second shuffled his feet. “She beat me fair and square, judge. Wouldn't be right to say different.”
“I'll say what's fair and square.” The judge’s face turned slightly purple. “I was brought in to do a job, not manage a bunch of country ignorants.”
I winced. My people would not take kindly to a statement such as that. We were proud here in Emerson Pass.
“We're not ignorant,” Isak called out. “We've got one of the best schools in Colorado.”
“I doubt that,” the judge said under his breath. He pointed at me. “Off the stage.”
I searched the sea of faces for Flynn. This was his competition, but he was nowhere to be found. Phillip had stepped forward, however, and came to stand next to the judge. He said something into his ear. The judge shook his head. “Rules are rules.”
I made eye contact with Phillip. “It's all right. I’ll go.”
I stepped from the stage. The crowd broke into applause.
Someone started chanting, “Number one, number one.”
The rest joined in. I waved to them and walked over to stand with Viktor. He put his arm around me. “I'm proud of you.”
“Thanks.” My vision blurred through my tears.
The judge turned to the crowd and waved his hand as if he were a conductor of an orchestra. “Be quiet,” he shouted.