'Nope.'
Robert was trying to figure out how to put Biggie's skis on the roof rack. 'I've never seen a ski rack like this before,' he said.
'It's not a ski rack, you idiot,' the coach told him, surprisingly loud.
Robert looked hurt and Biggie went up to the coach. 'Please don't worry, Bill,' she said. The coach was Bill.
'I'm not worried at all,' he said, and he started back to the hotel. 'You have a copy of the Summer Exercise Manual?' he asked her.
'Of course.'
'I should write to your parents,' he said.
'I can do that,' Biggie said.
Bill stopped and turned back to us. 'I didn't know there were two of them,' he said. 'Which one is him?'
Biggie pointed to me, 'Hello,' I said.
'Goodbye,' said Coach Bill.
Biggie and I got into the car. 'I've got to stop at the Hotel Forellen,' she said, 'where the French team is staying.'
'Au revoir?' said Merrill.
'There's a girl on the French team I was going to stay with,' she said. 'In France, you know - she was going to take me home with her for a visit.'
'And what a marvelous opportunity to learn the language,' Merrill bubbled. 'Culture shock ...'
'Shut up, Merrill,' I said.
Biggie looked sad. 'It's all right,' she said. 'I didn't really like the girl anyway. I think it would have been awful.'
So we waited outside the Forellen for Biggie, and observed the similar milling habits of the French men's team. They all kissed Biggie when she went into the hotel, and now they scrutinized the Zorn-Witwer.
'How do you say "What kind of car is this?" in French?' Merrill asked me, but none of them approached us, and when Biggie came out of the hotel, they all kissed her again.
When we were under way, Merrill asked Biggie, 'How about the Italian team? Let's go say goodbye to them. I've always liked Italians.' But Biggie was glum and I kicked the back of Merrill's seat. He was quiet, then, through Salzburg and out on the Autobahn to Vienna, the old Zorn-Witwer skittering along like a spider over glass.
Biggie let me take her hand, but she whispered to me, 'You smell funny.'
'That's you,' I whispered.
'I know,' she said. But we hadn't whispered soft enough.
'Well, I think it's disgusting,' Merrill said. 'Expecting an old car like this to endure such an odor.' When we didn't respond raucously to this, he was silent until Amstetten. 'Well,' he said, 'I hope to see you guys around in Vienna. Maybe we can make the Opera one night, if you have the time ...'
I caught his face in the rear-view mirror, just enough of a glance to see that he was serious. 'Don't be absurd, Merrill. Of course you'll see us around. Every day.' But he looked sullen and unconvinced.
Seeing him in a slump, Biggie came out of hers. She was always good that way. 'If you ever wet your bed again, Merrill,' she said, 'you can always come get warm with us.'
'Speaking of smells,' I said.
'Sure,' said Merrill, driving on.
'When you freeze in your pee, we'll thaw you out, Merrill,' I said.
I saw him catch Biggie's eyes in the mirror, 'If I thought that,' he said, 'I'd wet my bed every night.'