Not Done Yet - 12. Running Round in Circles

Running Round in Circles

James got the locker open on the third try, and changed out the books in his pack, so he could go home directly after gym. “Chem, algebra, Gatsby. God, Gatsby sucks… Aaaaaurgh!” James spun around, his fist doubled up and drawn back, ready to strike. Then he saw who it was. “Sam, what the fuck is your problem?! You know I’m ticklish.”

Sam had walked up behind James and stuck his thumb in James’ ribs. Behind him and a little bit to the side was a pretty girl with red hair and round cheeks. Her eyes glittered, but she had her hand in front of her face, trying to hide the laugh, while James did his best to pull himself back together.

“Hey James. I’d like you to meet someone. This is Mary Engle. She and I have math class together. Mary, this is James Batisse. You’ll have to forgive him. He’s normally more polite, but I guess he’s had a rough day.” Sam’s teeth gleamed bright against his dark skin.

James glowered at Sam, and politely offered his hand to Mary, who warmly shook it. “Hi Mary. I’m glad to meet you, so I can warn you to pick your friends more carefully. It’s not too late.”

Sam and Mary both started to laugh, while James hitched up his pack and closed his locker. Mary said, “I’ll keep that in mind. Can I count on you to distract him if I need to get away?”

“Absolutely. He’s a sucker for Halley’s Comet.” Mary and Sam both laughed.

“Hey James, the coach and I had another talk, and I joined the track team. He wants me as a sprinter. You oughtta think about joining, too.”

“To join you running around a track, Sam? You know what kind of running I like to do. Might as well drive for NASCAR.” He spoke with a nasal accent, imitating a race car driver, “‘I’m driving fast. I’m coming to a curve. I’m turning left. I’m driving fast.’ No thanks.”

Mary chuckled and Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Suit yourself, man. We’ve got to go to class. I’ll see you later.”

“Nice to meet you, James,” Mary waved as she walked away

“Same here.”

*

“Alright, ladies, today, we’re going to run. It’s evident that a number of you used your summer vacation to hone your survival skills in video games. Your lifeless eyes, pasty complexions, and doughy shapes scream it.” The man walked back and forth in front of the boys’ gym class as he spoke.

As most of the students moaned in misery, James looked around the gym. He had on his official uniform – black shorts, grey T-shirt, white socks, and a cheap pair of running shoes. Some of the guys had on black socks; others had non-standard shirts. Coach Wilson would straighten them out quickly enough. The head coach had a reputation as a hardass, who liked all “his” boys to look like little soldiers, identical. He’d already started the first day, insisting that they all sit in perfect formations for roll call, even though no one was dressed to exercise that day. The first day they suited up, Coach Wilson always made an example of anyone not dressed properly.

James’ eyes locked with one of the bigger guys, who sneered at him. Ronnie was an indifferent student with a bad reputation. “He doesn’t seem to like you,” hissed the boy to James’ left.

James glanced to his left and whispered, “I turned him in for tryin’ to copy off my test in English last year.” James looked at Ronnie and smiled. “I work for my grades. I’m not givin’ up that work for somebody who can’t be bothered.”

The coach had stopped, and was looking at James, but turned and continued to address the class, “We’ll start with something easy. Everybody out to the track. Run the straightaways and walk the curves to start. All of you except Clark, Collins, Jefferson, Mitchell, Graves, and Barecky. You will each run a mile to start. I’ll be watching to make sure you complete that mile. I trust you will each wear the regulation uniform next class.” The boys he named looked unhappy. A couple groaned. “Batisse, you will run two miles. I had you in class last year, and you know better than to talk in class when I’m talking. Move out!”

As they filed past the coach, some of the kids grumbled. The coach looked at them coolly. As James walked past, he turned to the coach and smiled. “Thanks, Coach.”

The coach shook his head and smiled. As James walked out the door, Coach Dredd, walked up and asked, “Frank, what was that about? I expected you to add a couple more laps to his punishment.”

“You don’t know that boy like I do. Didn’t you notice his legs? It wouldn’t faze James if I added four more miles. He’s a runner, Brad. I want to get out there and make sure our fashion models don’t try to short cut their runs. Give the rest of ‘em thirty minutes walking the curves; then, I want them running alternate laps. Everybody starts off at the same time, so nobody can cheat. That’ll get them through this class.” Wilson took off at a trot to the track to watch the boys. Coach Dredd checked the locker room for
stragglers, then jogged out to the track, too.

James started off with the others being punished, but quickly pulled ahead. He was running steady, economy in every stride. A few guys tried to get him to race on the straightaways, but he held his pace. Soon, they stopped trying. Some of the less fit began to lag, but James kept going. By the third lap, he was loosened up, and settled into his breathing. He lapped a couple of the boys running one mile. As they completed their mile, Coach Wilson let them join the other boys, running alternate laps.

James reached the starting line for the sixth time when the others took off. Several ran faster than he did, since they were just starting out, but James held his pace, not even paying attention to the others. Legs pumping, he didn’t miss a beat, his breath even. When he reached his eighth lap, he was running faster than most of the other boys, who were tiring. As he finished his two miles, Coach Dredd stopped him. “Batisse, you looked pretty strong there. I’m guessing you run quite a bit.”

“I like to run, Coach.” Even after running two miles, James was still breathing easily.

“How far and how often do you run?”

“I run most days when the weather’s clear. I don’t know how far. Mostly, it’s on trails.”

“Stop by my office before you leave for the day. I’d like to talk to you for a couple of minutes.” The coach turned back to the track and called out to the boys, “Alright, now that all of you are here, let’s go around one more time, then head for the showers. James,” he shouted, “You can go on in.”

Ten minutes later, James had stripped and showered, and was pulling on his clothes, when the other guys started coming in off the track. A couple were in high spirits, but most dragged their feet. The boy James had locked eyes with earlier, Ronnie, came up from behind and roughly pushed him out of the way. “Hey, fag, what are you still doing in here when you’re already dressed? Shopping for meat?” Ronnie started to strip, then looked back at James, who was eyeing him coolly. “God damn it, I can’t even strip down to take a shower without him watching me. Fuck you, fudge packer! I’m stripping in the shower.” Ronnie grabbed his towel and walked to the back of the locker room.

James was still fighting a blush as he made his way to Coach Dredd’s office. “You wanted to talk to me, coach?”

Brad Dredd had changed into a polo shirt and a pair of grey jeans, and swiveled in his chair to look at James. “Hey, have a seat for a minute. I’ll make this quick. We’re trying to build up our track team this year, James, and I’d like you to try out for it. Based on what I saw today, you could really help us out. You’re two steps ahead of anybody else, already.”

James squirmed a bit in his chair and looked down for a second. When he looked back up, he spoke softly, “Coach, I’m really not one for joining a team. I do what I have to in school; I work on group projects for my other classes, but I always end up carrying somebody else’s load. When you divide us up into teams for P.E. later, I’ll work; I’ll contribute. But I don’t want to spend my own time on this.”

“Well, I was really hoping for a different answer. Tell ya what – would you consider just training with the other team members from time to time? As a personal favor.”

“Coach, I really only like running for myself, by myself, on trails.” The coach looked ready to say something, but James cut him off. “Look, if any of the team want to meet me at the state park at eight o’clock on Saturday mornings, I’ll run with them. But I’ll pick the course, and I’ll set my own pace.”

Coach Dredd leaned forward and laced his fingers together, elbows on the desk. He looked at James from under his eyebrows, then dropped his gaze. When he looked back up, he settled back in his chair. “Before I send the team out there, I want to know what I’m sending them into. What if I meet you out there this Saturday and let’s see what you got, kid? I guess you’re going for distance, right?”

“Yup.”

“Alright. I’ll meet you at the ranger station at eight o’clock.” The coach held out his hand. James looked at it, looked the coach dead in the eye, and took his hand in a firm grip.

Coach Wilson walked in and saw James. “You tried to get him to join the track team, didn’t you, Brad?” Coach Dredd just looked at him in silence. “Coulda told ya. Now what?”

“We’re going for a run at the park Saturday. If I can outrun him, maybe I can still talk him into it.”

Coach Wilson started to chuckle. After a couple of seconds, he threw his head back and laughed ‘til he was gasping for breath. “Take your best shoes, Brad.”

James smirked, and turned to leave. At the door, though, he turned back with a gleam in his eye. “Pack a lunch. We’ll be out a while.”

Down the hallway, the door opened before James could touch the bar, and he jumped back. A pair of bright blue eyes under sandy brown hair crinkled at the corners when Casey started to laugh. “James, you should see your face.”

“Oh, fuck off, you dumb jock.”

Casey laughed. “My gawd, what language you’ve learned. I remember when you wouldn’t give a darn.”

“Got baseball practice today?”

“For the next eight months. Why did I ever agree when the coach asked?”

“So you’d have girls waiting in line to sit on your lap?”

“Oh. Right. I forgot.”

“Luckily, I’m immune.” Quickly, James added, “Coach Dredd asked me to join the track team, and he doesn’t want to take no for an answer.”

“Gonna give it up?”

“Nah. We’re going running in the park day after tomorrow. He thinks he can show me up and persuade me to run around in circles.”

“Love to be a birdie overhead for that one. I know what you’re planning, dude, and you’re ebil, pure ebil.” Casey grinned and looked around when someone called his name. “Hey, Sara!”

When he turned back, James was hitching up his pack. “Bud, don’t show up the coaches too bad. They can make your life difficult. Sometimes, it’s not bad to give folks what they want.”

“Sometimes, but not this time.”

“Yah, I know. James don’t run for nobody.” Casey halfway spit it out. “I gots to go. Later.” He turned to leave.

“See ya.” Casey didn’t see the hurt in James’ eye or the quiver to his lip.

*

Casey made his way into the locker room, greeting guys he knew all the way in. While he was suiting up for practice, Chris Carter, the catcher, sat down on the bench behind him and nudged Casey. “Hey, did you hear about Jessica and Rachel? Mr. Armstrong caught ‘em out behind the dumpster suckin’ face.”

“That’s no surprise. They’ve been eyeing each other all semester.”

“And you don’t have a problem with that? Reverend Jones says it’s unnatural.” Chris said several more things, even quoting scripture, while Casey kept dressing. A couple of guys were paying close attention to what Chris was saying.

Casey quietly tied his cleats. He picked up his glove, closed the locker, and headed for the field, softly murmuring, “’Do not speak against each other, my brethren, for he who speaks against his brother or judges his brother speaks against The Written Law, and judges The Written Law.’” Back on the bench, Chris was still talking, and didn’t hear him.

*

That night, James told his mom he didn’t feel well, and went to bed early. He said the same thing the next morning. Instead of getting ready for school, he went back to bed and hid beneath the covers. When he got up later to watch TV, he idly surfed through the channels twice, barely noticing what was on, before he went to sleep on the couch.

Jessie walked over and turned off the TV. Sitting on the edge of the couch, she brushed back James’ hair and gently stroked the side of his face. He took a deep breath and slowly opened his eyes. “Hi Mom. I fell asleep.”

Jessie softly smiled. “I can see that.” She paused with her hand on James’ cheek. “I hope whoever wins your heart appreciates you as much as I do. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Go wash your face, and I’ll pull something together in the kitchen.” She laid her palm over his heart, then rose and walked into the kitchen.

James rolled off the couch and onto his feet, and padded into the bathroom. His bare feet slapped the tiles. As he waited for the water to turn warm, he looked at his reflection. His black T-shirt hung loosely over his lean frame. He took off the shirt and dropped it to the floor. Turned sideways, he watched himself as he ran his hand over his pecs and belly. The muscle tone gave away the hours he’d spent practicing with a bow. Sucking in a deep breath, he lightly pinched his nipple, and let out a sigh.

“Whoever wins my heart? What if he doesn’t even know?”

He splashed the warm water onto his face and neck, raked his hair back with his hand, and sighed again as he turned off the tap. With a last glance in the mirror, he picked up his shirt and ran upstairs to change into a fresh one.

Back down in the kitchen, Jessie asked him, “Are you going running tomorrow? I don’t want you to push yourself if you’re not feeling well.” She shook up the small jar of salad dressing and poured it over a large bowl full of colorful salad greens, tomatoes, and bell peppers.

“Sure. I just had a twenty-four hour bug, I think. Besides, I’m supposed to meet the coach at the park. He wants me to join the track team.”

“How do you feel about that? It might be good to work out with other boys.” Jessie dished out the salads and added grilled chicken breast, before grating cheese over the top.

“I don’t really know. The kind of running they do isn’t much fun. There are a couple of real jerks on the team, but some of the guys are pretty nice, I guess.” James took his bowl and picked up his fork.

“Why don’t you just keep an open mind, and listen to what the coach has to say tomorrow?” Jessie picked up her own fork, spearing a cherry tomato, and bringing it to her lips.

“I guess. The coach expects to impress me tomorrow, but I don’t think he’s ever run a course like the one I’m taking.” James chuckled at the thought.

“Hijo, it might be good to give in a little, just this once.” She took a bite of chicken and greens. “All of life isn’t a hunt. Sometimes, you need to let somebody catch you.”

James finished the rest of the meal in silence. From time to time, Jessie looked over at him as if to say something, but never did.

The two of them cleaned up the kitchen after dinner. While James was drying the salad bowl, he told his mom, “I’ll think about it.”

The next morning dawned clear and warm. The jays were fussing at a squirrel in the oak tree outside James’ window while he dried off. He’d gone to bed early the night before, and gotten up this morning, just as early.

He had plenty of time for breakfast before going to the park, so he went downstairs and began clattering around in the fridge. In no time, James cut up bell peppers, jalapenos, and onion, and started to sautee them. He pulled out the smoked cheddar his mother liked and grated a small mound of it and threw it in the freezer.

Jessie shuffled in yawning, wearing pink bunny slippers, and headed straight for the coffee maker. “Son, you’re going to make somebody a wonderful husband someday. I don’t know many men as comfortable in a kitchen.”

“If I want someone to make me dinner, I’d better be willing to make breakfast.” James cracked four eggs, stirred in some milk, and started cooking a massive omelet. As an afterthought, he retrieved a small container of bacon bits from the fridge, and shook them out into the pan. “I can’t believe you still wear those slippers. They were supposed to be a joke.” He pulled the cheese from the freezer and sprinkled it onto the eggs, followed by the onion and peppers.

“Hijo, I laugh every time I put them on. The joke’s still funny. When they wear out, I want another pair just like them, only in green.”

“Mom, you know that dye they use on Easter bunnies isn’t good for them, don’t you?” He picked up the skillet and shook it gently, smiling when the omelet, firming as it cooked, easily slid around, floating on a thin film of butter. He pulled a wooden spatula from the drawer, slipped it under the edge of the omelet, and folded it neatly in half. Giving the skillet another gentle shake, he set it down on the burner to finish cooking.

“Nevertheless…. So your run is this morning? Have you thought about where you’ll be running?” She poured her coffee, sipped it, and pulled the orange juice from the fridge to pour two glasses.

James turned off the burner and cut the omelet in two with the spatula, before he split it between two plates. “We’re starting at the ranger station at the entrance. I’ll take him up to Fehr’s Overlook. That’ll give us a good climb.”

“I love that shelter up there. Your father and I used to go there late at night.”

“I thought you weren’t supposed to go into the park at night if you weren’t camping there.”

“No, but what happens in the dead of night isn’t everybody’s business. That’s where he proposed by the light of the full moon, and that’s also where you were conceived under the Milky Way. The stars were so bright, your daddy’s eyes shone in the darkness.” Jessie had a faraway look in her eyes.

“Mom, they call that look lust, and I’m really not comfortable hearing about my parents, you know….” He laughed at the look his mom gave him.

“Would you like me to drive you to the park, so you’re fresh to run?”

“If you don’t mind, it would save quite a bit of time. I’m supposed to meet him at eight.”

“Throw on your shoes after you eat, hijo, and let’s go. Or are you running barefoot today?” She winked at him.

“No, Mom, you know I only do that in the spring, when the grass is soft.” He ran upstairs. A few minutes later, he was back down again.

She looked at his feet and scowled. He was in ankle-high moccasins. “James?”

“Don’t’ say it, Mom. I plan to run the coach hard today, and moccasins are the most comfortable shoes I own.”

“OK. Go get in the car. You’re driving.” She threw the keys at his face, and James snagged them out of mid-air, laughing.

When they reached the ranger station, Jessie got behind the wheel and winked at James, who winked back at her. The coach walked up as she was driving off. He looked curiously at James in his moccasins. After a few words, they took off at a slow jog. As the trail turned uphill, James picked up the pace. Coach Dredd matched him stride for stride.

When they reached the ridge, James took the long fork past the overlook and doubled back. Running down the trail to the shelter, James stopped suddenly and grabbed the coach by the arm, making him stop, too. Five feet ahead, on the trail, was a young doe. James quietly sat down, motioning for the coach to, as well. The doe looked at them, chewing thoughtfully. She turned back to her foraging, and found a few more leaves. A snap and shuffle brought her head up, and she bounded away.

A huge black dog trotted into view, followed by a smaller female. Two old men walked quietly behind them. One called out, “Rachel, Conor, come on. Leave them in peace. James has company. He’s not gonna wanna play.”

As they turned down the trail, the coach asked, “Friends of yours?”

“Yep. C’mon, let’s look at the view, now that traffic’s died down.” They walked to the shelter. It was a stone structure with heavy bones. Through the open window, the view was all trees, though when the park was built, the hillside was clearcut, and the road was plain to see down below.

“James, I’ve got to ask again. Will you reconsider joining the track team? You’re a really strong distance runner, and we could sure use you. Not many guys your age can run distance, and it would give us an edge in competitions.”

“Coach, some of the jocks don’t like me much, and I don’t care for their attitudes, either. You heard about the two girls caught mackin’ on each other at school?” The coach nodded. “Well, it wasn’t fifteen minutes later that somebody on the football team was pissin’ and moanin’ about the ‘two dykes,’ and how they didn’t know what they were missin’, passin’ up on his man meat to suck on some bitch’s tonsils.

“Then there’s the type of running y’all do. Running around a track is fine for some folks, I suppose, but not me. What we just did was nice, but it’s still not my favorite type of running.”

The coach looked a little irritated, but he smoothed out his face and took a breath before he said anything. “Listen, James, I can’t answer for the football team. Hell, you know what boys your age are like. They’re just gonna be like that, but you could show them a different way to behave, and give them an example to follow.”

“Tell me, Coach, what support would I get from the faculty if I stood up to guys acting like that? These are the heroes of the school we’re talking about. They’re golden. And they’re bullies. Their parents teach them to act like that, and the faculty don’t care, as long as they score points. Half of ‘em are Saturday night sinners, and Bible-thumpers the rest of the time.

“What scares me the most isn’t how anybody’d treat me. What scares me the most is that I might become like them, even a little bit. No thanks. I’d rather run by myself, on-trail and off-trail.”

“James…”

“Nope. I’ll see you in gym class on Monday.” With that, James took off down the trail. Coach Dredd ran after him, determined, but before two hundred yards, James turned off the trail and leapt down the hillside, rolled to his feet, and skidded down the scree before he came to a level stretch, where he took off like a bolt.

*

Back up the hill, Coach Dredd stared after him until James ran around a shoulder of the hill, out of sight. ”Well, that didn’t go as well as I’d hoped. The worst part of it is, he’s right. But Coach Wilson’s right, too. He is a runner.”

Back at the ranger station, James’ chest was heaving. He struggled to get enough air to breathe. He went into the restroom. A sob escaped him before he steeled himself. He headed to the park entrance. Back at the main road, he did something he never did, and stuck his thumb out, asking for a ride.