Chapter 12

When the two Rolls pulled up to the entrance to the gym at Memorial High School, they caused consternation among the kids who were walking up from the parking lot. The fact that a bodyguard hopped out of the car and was holding the rear door didn't lessen the impression.

The two girls were pleased to see that one of the onlookers was Virginia James, the ex-captain of the girls' gymnastics team. And that was a story in itself.

Immediately after Thanksgiving, gymnastics practice had started under the direction of the high school's new volunteer coach, Seana Dunphy. With their first match coming very soon, the girls were very hard-working in their practice. Although none of them knew anything about Seana, she certainly seemed to know a great deal about gymnastics.

She should. The fact was that she was one of the nation's top gymnastics coaches and had been asked to coach the U.S. Women's Olympic Gymnastics Team. In fact, the invitation had been extended at the tryouts for the team held during the summer. Tasha and Tanya had been out there and had been invited to join the team, having achieved world-class scores that were significantly superior to any other candidate's.

The girls declined the invitations claiming they didn't want to drop out of school for a year to train full time with the team. And at the same time, Seana, who had been impressed with the girls, received an offer from Caitie Corcoran to work with them full time. And since the money was more than four times higher than what the Olympic Committee was offering...

Things were going smoothly until shortly before their first dual competition. And their opponent, like the football team in its first game, was the hated Henry Clay High School. And again, like their football counterparts, the Clay girls were defending Kentucky State Champions.

It was at that point that Virginia James went to Seana with her lineup for the Clay competition. Seana looked it over and almost dropped her teeth: Neither Tanya nor Tasha were on the roster.

"Virginia, why aren't the Corcoran twins competing?"

"They're much too young and inexperienced," the girl sneered. "And against Clay we need our very best. They can compete against smaller schools. Besides," she sniffed, "they're both too tall!"

Indeed, the Corcoran twins by then were both almost five feet ten and still growing. Virginia was five feet two, while Seana was five-one.

"You're right about one thing," Seana conceded. "The girls are far taller than most female gymnasts ... or male gymnasts, for that matter. But it doesn't seem to slow them down much."

Then, seeming to change the subject, she asked, "How much do you practice?"

"Every week!" Virginia announced proudly. "And I have even been taking private lessons every week for months."

"Virginia dear, let me give you the hot scoop: Tanya and Tasha have been practicing every day — and I mean every day, including Saturdays, Sundays and holidays — since they were three years old! Want to match that?"

"But how do you know that?" the girl demanded.

"Because it was common knowledge at the tryouts for the U.S. Olympic Gymnastics team last summer."

"Olympic tryouts?" the girl almost screamed. "What were they doing there? And why were you there, for that matter?"

"They were qualifying one-two for places on the squad," Seana replied casually. "And when they declined their invitation, I did, too."

The girl was utterly stunned. But then she asked, "What invitation did you decline?"

"The invitation to coach our Olympic team."

The girl just gasped, utterly speechless. "But why?" she finally managed to say.

"Because I wanted to coach those two girls. And if they weren't staying out there, neither would I."

"But ... but you're not getting paid! You're a volunteer coach."

"Yes, I am a volunteer coach, and no, the school isn't paying me. But I am being paid ... and paid very well, in fact."

That conversation settled who would be competing against Henry Clay. Moreover, the word quickly spread among the team members regarding the girls' accomplishments, and Seana's.

Memorial was the home team for the competition. There was the normal gymnastics setup in a smaller gym adjacent to the main one with the addition of two giant plasma screens set high on a wall. In international competition, all members of a team are competing at the same time rotating among the positions. But in high school competition there are not nearly enough judges — competent or otherwise — to be able to judge multiple events simultaneously.

In fact, there were so few schools in Kentucky with gymnastics teams that the Henry Clay state championship did not have nearly the cachet of its football title.

The first Memorial competitor was Tanya on the uneven parallel bars. She went through her routine and received scores of two fives and a six. At that point, Seana called a timeout and asked to see the judges' score sheets.

"I beg your pardon? What nerve!" exclaimed the woman who was the chief judge. "I scored it a five, and that's that!"

"I beg your pardon," Seana continued, "but perhaps you're a little confused regarding gymnastics scoring. You must be thinking of another type of competition. In gymnastics, every competitor starts with a perfect score of ten. Any miss results in points being deducted. I wish to see your score sheet to see for what misses you penalized Tanya.

"Oh, by the way ... to set a standard, I am taking the liberty of showing the uneven parallel bars competition from this year's tryouts for our Olympic team. I'm sure you'll find it interesting, and it will only take a few minutes."

The Clay coach was very interested. And it had been apparent that when Seana explained gymnastics scoring to the judges, it was largely news to the Clay coach, too.

What no one had noticed was that Tanya's performance that day had been taped as well. Moreover, Seana had carefully selected the camera location to replicate the camera position at the tryouts.

The tapes rolled on the giant plasma displays side by side. It was as if the same picture was being displayed on both screens. When Tanya stuck her dismount — the two were identical — the right-hand screen went dark. Then on the left-hand screen there was a tape of the ESPN broadcast of the trials.

The announcer, having announced the competitor as Tanya Corcoran, was excited, and the commentator — a former Olympic medal-winning gymnast herself — was enraptured. As Tanya finished her routine, the girl screamed, "Yes! That was absolutely perfect! Now we'll see the scores."

The scores were displayed: all tens.

The judges at Memorial were in a state of shock.

Seana repeated, "May I see your score sheets, please?"

The senior judge was the first able to speak. "But ... but ... what is that girl doing here? Why isn't she at the Olympic training facility?"

"Because Tanya declined the invitation, as did her twin. They wanted to stay here at Memorial — they're only in the ninth grade, after all — so they're here.

"Those score sheets, please?"

"I was totally wrong," the senior judge admitted. "I ... I knew Tanya was only a freshman, so I wanted to give her room to improve." But then with a woeful grin she added, "But I guess it's a bit difficult to improve on perfection, isn't it? I give her a ten."

The competition was a Clay wipeout. With both Tasha and Tanya monotonously posting tens, Clay had no chance. At the conclusion, though, Seana teased the girls because the judges had missed several mistakes the girls had made, but she had not.

To that the girls stuck out the pink tips of their tongues and then ran off to the showers.

But the Clay competition was the end of Virginia James as team captain. With a single dissenting vote — Virginia's — Tanya and Tasha were elected co-captains of the gymnastics team, effective immediately.

While the foursome were getting ready to enter the building, eight men appeared — the men who had been in the accompanying cars — and entered ahead of them. Of course, they were members of the Bluegrass security force and were there as a result of arrangements made between Dan Johnson, the chief of security, and Ed Brennan, the school's new principal.

Initially, Ed had been skeptical about having armed men — a total of ten — at the dance. But he was cognizant of the attempted rape of Tanya and Tasha as well as the attack on the farm itself. Furthermore, although Jumbo was gone, there was no telling who might be seeking revenge in his name.

And Dan sealed the deal when he pointed out to Ed that he could guarantee a very nice, well-behaved dance with absolutely no trouble. Knowing the men and their training, that was a point Ed freely conceded.

Finally, although Dan didn't mention it to anyone, he knew that plans were underway for the boys and their mothers to move out to the farm and thus come under its security umbrella. Dan had supreme confidence in Caitie Corcoran's powers of persuasion with respect to getting the Barnes and Brewsters out there.

Indeed, he and Jessie had encountered her persuasiveness first hand. Shortly before he was to retire from the Army he had been contacted by Caitie. At the time, he was stationed at Fort Benning, Georgia, and Caitie flew down to meet Jessie and him. They met at the finest restaurant in the area and Caitie immediately offered him the job as chief of security at Bluegrass Farm, then just getting underway. When she told him the salary, he was stunned. It was four times his pay as sergeant major.

Their meeting was on a Friday evening, and he was off for the weekend. Accordingly, the next day they had flown in Caitie's plane, a Gulfstream G-550, to Lexington, Kentucky. There they were met by a limousine and driven to the farm. The Johnsons loved it at first sight. Jessie had grown up in Virginia, while Dan was from North Carolina. To both of them Bluegrass Farm was Heaven on earth.

The couple were shown the magnificent house that would be theirs. It was brand new, beautifully furnished, and theirs at no cost. Further, not only would Caitie pay for Jessie's continuing studies toward her doctorate in nutrition, she even refunded every dime she had spent on her previous education, including the cost of the Cordon Bleu School in Paris. Their house was only a few feet from the main house, and Jessie was also hired as chief cook at a salary that would have impressed a top chef in one of New York's finest restaurants.