Free Hearts Racing by Jim Hodgson Page A

racks of free weights.
    “I could train an army with all this stuff!” she said.
    Jose looked wide eyed. Perhaps he hadn’t understood her.
    LeMond laughed. “Well you won’t have to train an army,” he said with a chuckle. “Just a bunch of unruly cyclists. Might be worse! Come on, Jose, show Buck the cycling room.”
    Through another door, there was a room more or less like the one Faith had seen at the old New Lyon facility. The racks of bikes here were smaller, and made of wood instead of the metal ones back in New Lyon, but there seemed to be every kind of tool you could ever want.
    “Who’s going to be working on our bikes?” Buck asked.
    “That’s one thing we weren’t really able to find,” LeMond said. “So, I’ll be your mechanic in addition to team director. And you do most of your own maintenance anyway, right?”
    Buck nodded. To Faith, he didn’t seem fazed by this news. Obviously he just wanted to ride. He was a competitor. She could respect that.
    “Do we have bikes?” Buck asked. The racks were empty.
    “We do, they’re just out on a training ride at the moment,” LeMond said, and then, upon hearing noise outside the door, added, “Ah! Here they are.”
    An outside door do this room opened, and riders on green, white, and red bikes entered. They were sweaty and breathing hard, but smiling. Buck looked envious to Faith. He’d been off the bike for a few days now. He must be crazy to get back in the saddle and ride by now. She knew what it was like to have to go a few days without training. It could be hell.
    Introductions went around. In addition to Jose, there was Hidalgo, Antonio, Hector, and the twins Alfredo and Alfonso. Buck shook all their hands, smiling and talking shop as much as was possible through the language barrier. They all racked their bikes up and headed for the showers. Buck was still smiling.
    “They don’t look bad do they?” LeMond asked.
    “They don’t,” Buck agreed. “But I haven’t seen them ride yet.”
    “Just wait. You think you’ve seen heart, but these kids will blow your mind.”
    “We’ll see,” Buck said. “Now what?”
    “Now I believe the kitchen has a dinner for us,” LeMond said, rubbing his hands together.
    The “kitchen” turned out to be Alfredo and Alfonso’s mother, Miriam. She’d prepared a feast fit for a wedding. A big one, by Faith’s reckoning. There was steak, chicken, corn, black beans, and enough freshly made guacamole to fill a giant novelty sombrero. Faith couldn’t bring herself to eat corn tortillas, since the corn was probably genetically modified. Only god knew what horrible effects that might have on her body. Instead, she enjoyed a delicious burrito, with a piece of lettuce instead of a tortilla. Even though there was a language barrier, everyone at the table was laughing and pointing like they’d known each other for years.
    After they ate, the Miami team members cleared the dishes, and Jose appeared from the kitchen with a tray covered in shot glasses and a bottle.
    “Oh no,” Buck said. “Not tequila. I can’t drink that.”
    “Aw loosen up, Buck,” LeMond said, standing. “It’s tradition. They’re trying to welcome you and Faith.”
    “Where are you going?” Faith asked.
    “I have to head back to New Lyon before it gets too late. Tie up a few things. I’ll be back tomorrow and we’ll get started. You guys have fun.”
    The Miami team distributed glasses around the table, not bothering to ask Faith or Buck if they wanted to drink any. Faith considered it. She didn’t want to be rude. “Jose, what kind of tequila is that?”
    “Tequila?” he asked. “This is not just tequila. This is añejo !”
    “ Añejo !” the twins echoed together, laughing and slapping each other on the back.
    “What’s añejo ?” Faith asked.
    Jose looked thoughtful for a moment then set the tray down. “A bike race is a bike race. This is tequila. But the Tour is the Tour, yes?”
    “Yes,” Buck said.