“I did not do my personal best,” Alana said as she and Mina set out walking to her house. “I guess I’m too much of a girlie girl for sports.”
Mina smiled. Ms. Jenner talked about personal best, especially when someone turned in a sloppy paper.
Alana held the Friendship Ball under one arm as she strolled.
They walked down the street lined with ornamental orange trees. Once Mina had tried to eat one of the beautiful fruits. It tasted bitter, but the blossoms still smelled like heaven. Mina stuck her nose into the white petals and sniffed.
“Watch out for bees,” Alana said. “My dad got stung on the cheek once doing that.”
At Alana’s, they set up the tent in the backyard, then laid out the sleeping bags. The light coming through the yellow nylon made their faces glow.
Alana opened a bottle of nail polish and Mina unzipped the tent flap to air out the strong smell.
Alana handed Mina the tiny brush, then held out her hands like two soft fans, the fingernails bitten off short.
Mina did fine until Alana’s second pinkie. The polish smeared. She tried to rub it off with a tissue, but the polish rolled up in a wrinkly mess.
“That’s okay. I’ll fix it later,” said Alana.
Mina spread her fingers. She was proud of her nails, grown out as long as Mom would allow. “Tell me the secret.”
Alana coated Mina’s thumbnail with red. “Well, I peeked at Coach’s list.”
“And?”
“You really want to know?” Alana moved on to the pointer finger.
Mina hesitated.
“It’s an important secret,” Alana insisted.
“Well, tell me, then.”
“When Coach wrote down the times, I saw your time and Ruth’s.” Alana took a big breath. “You beat her.”
Mina waited for Alana to break out laughing and say, Just kidding!
But Alana wasn’t even smiling. She dipped the brush in the bottle and lifted it out, loaded with polish.
The inside of the tent bloomed with the smell of Fire Truck Red.
“How could you see what Coach wrote?” Mina asked. “He wrote too small. He hid the page.”
“Nuh-uh. I stood on the bench behind him and saw real good. Ruth’s gonna be surprised. She thinks you’re a girlie girl like me. She’s gonna have a fit.”
Ruth have a fit? Mina didn’t want that. She enjoyed soaring along like a bird caught on a current of air — but she didn’t care about winning. Ruth cared. Ruth had always won, and she should keep on winning. If Ruth had a fit, it might hurt their friendship. The Fellow Friends might become Non-Fellow Enemies.
Alana moved quickly from nail to nail. When she finished, she leaned over and blew on the wet polish. “Now our hands look extra pretty for cat’s cradle. Hold up your fingers,” she commanded, pulling a string from her pocket. “Don’t worry — the polish is dry.” She placed the string over Mina’s extended fingers, threading the outlines of the Walking Turtle.
For dinner, Mina and Alana drank Italian cream sodas flavored with raspberry and ate pineapple pizza, throwing the crusts to the birds. When it got dark, they lay back in their sleeping bags and listened to the crickets rasping their legs together in the bushes.
Just before she fell asleep, Mina felt a little homesick. To distract herself, she ran the fifty-meter sprint again in her mind, crossing the grass as though lifted by the breeze, the warm sunshine pouring through her.
Mina opened her eyes to yellow light playing across the walls of the tent and felt another sting of homesickness for her own bed, for Mom, Daddy, and Paige.
She unzipped her bag, crawled to the tent door, and scanned the sky. At first she didn’t see the moon because the sky was light blue, the sun up. Her yellow pencil wouldn’t be half bright enough for that blazing sun.
“I don’t think we have to draw it on weekends,” said Alana behind her, still in her sleeping bag.
But Mina was already reaching under her pillow for her moon journal. Drawing the moon was familiar.
As she sketched, she thought of how Ms. Jenner said ancient people believed Moon Trees grew on the moon. The gods flew to the moon to harvest the fruit and make a drink from the juice. The magical drink made them wise, happy, and allowed them to live forever.
Finishing her drawing, Mina wondered if the Moon Trees smelled like the soft, sweet puffs of orange blossom drifting into Alana’s backyard.
She imagined herself running lightly around a Moon Tree, launching herself into great leaps through the sweetness.
Alana rolled the Friendship Ball to the center of the tent. The art teacher had given her scraps of yarn left over from a weaving project.
Mina went back inside and the two of them worked, untangling and winding, making sure that the ball was round on all sides.
“It’s almost summer. We’ll have a bunch of pool parties and overnights,” Alana declared. “Even Sammy. He can have his own tent.”
“That all sounds fun,” Mina said. She held the Friendship Ball in her lap, the weight comforting her. As Alana talked, Mina felt her whole world grow wider. She stretched out her legs and sighed.
“Ruth’s out of town for her soccer match,” Alana said. “I wonder how it’s going.”
Ruth. Mina had beaten her. Alana had seen the proof. Mina tucked her legs back in. A gust of wind came up, blowing the branches of the tree across the sun, casting a shadow over the yellow tent.
At school on Monday, Mina and Ruth set to work on the frog project. First they colored the big piece of cardboard with shades of green so that it looked like the rain forest. While Ruth cut out the pictures of the tree frogs they’d downloaded from the website, Mina copied her notes in her neatest penmanship. When tree frogs get cold, they hide in the mud.
Mom told her she got cold feet. And sometimes Mom called her a stick-in-the-mud. I like to hide in the mud like a cold tree frog, Mina thought.
She worked hard to concentrate on her lettering. Don’t get cold feet now, she instructed herself. She worried that her hand might slip and spoil a letter. What would Ruth think?
While Mina worried, Ruth sang a little song under her breath. “You’re in my life forever, ta-da-da, forever . . .”
Mina put down her pen and looked at Ruth. Would she be singing that happy song, just loud enough for Mina to hear, if she knew Mina had beaten her in the fifty meter?
In the afternoon, storm clouds let loose with a quick little rain. By the time PE started, the sky sparkled with light. The dark clouds made the new leaves look extra green, the stucco walls of the school pinker. Stepping onto the wet grass, Mina found herself looking forward to running.
Then a cloud covered the sun and she shivered.
The cloud moved and the sun shone. The arc of a rainbow appeared. Mina stretched, raising both arms high into the freshly washed air.
Once again, Coach sent the boys off with the high-school helpers and grouped the girls according to height.
The class C girls lined up. Coach wouldn’t time them today. They’d all run together. Mina didn’t want to stand next to Ruth, but Ruth came over to her. “Just think finish line,” she advised.
When Coach blew the whistle, Mina jetted forward. She dashed over the wet grass, the clouds overhead, the rainbow shining, each precious instant pushing her onward: one-two-three-four-five-six . . .
At the last second, Mina sensed Ruth next to her and turned to look. The look slowed her just the teeniest bit. When she arrived at the white stripe, Coach shouted, “Tie!” He held up Mina’s arm and Ruth’s.
Ruth stared at Mina, her mouth open as she panted for breath.
Mina had once heard a strange word: unquiet. It meant more than “not quiet.” It meant deeply uneasy. She was unquiet now, with Ruth staring at her, looking as though she’d come home to find her house flattened by a dust devil.
Coach dropped their arms and patted Mina on the back. “Congratulations. Don’t look so surprised, Mina.”
Ruth held o
ut her hand. “Congratulations.” But she didn’t look Mina in the eye.
Mina thought that the handshake was probably something sportswoman-like that Ruth had learned in soccer.
When the class B girls ran the fifty meter, Alana came in third to last, jogging in her black Mary Janes. She threw up her hands and laughed.
Sammy caught up with Mina on the way back to the classroom. “I saw you race. Way to go!” He held out his hand, waiting for the Fellow Friends Handshake.
Mina shook his hand, slapped his palms twice, then snapped her fingers twice. But she also glanced ahead, to where Ruth walked across the lunch patio. She hoped that Ruth was too far away to hear Sammy’s congratulations. The rainbow had dissolved into the blue sky.
During silent reading, Mina only pretended to read. Even though the owner of the diamonds was following Francesca, Mina just stared at her book. Mom was right. It was a baby book.
She put one hand on each knee, bony and round under her jeans. Her legs seemed like the legs of a stranger, legs that had run all on their own.
But they weren’t the legs of a stranger, she thought. They were her legs, and because of her they had run fast. As fast as the fastest girl. A tingle rose along her spine.
Although Ruth faced away from Mina, Mina could see that she wasn’t turning the pages of her book either.
Ms. Jenner had given everyone a sheet of watercolor paper and a box of watercolors to take home. Mina spread out the paper, paints, and some crayons on the picnic table in the backyard.
The moon was a slice so thin that she had to sharpen the crayon to a fine point. The white shavings fell like shavings of the moon itself.
Mina poured watery paint onto the paper and let it run, saturating the fibers.
“That’s so pretty,” said Paige, sitting down next to Mina on the bench.
Mina edged her elbow out protectively. “Careful not to touch it while it’s wet.”
“Mommy says there’s a rabbit on the moon.”
“That’s just what Chinese people pretend they see,” Mina explained.
“Just pretend? It’s not really there?”
Mina laughed. “No rabbit, Paige. It’s craters and moon mountains that look like a rabbit.”
“Oh, wow!” Paige leaned over Mina’s elbow and pointed. “The paint doesn’t stick to the moon you colored with crayon. It’s still white!” She tilted her head back and scanned the sky. “I don’t see the moon, Mina.”
“It’s not there now. I memorized the way it looked this morning.”
“You got a good memory, Mina,” Paige commented, then turned quickly on the bench. “Daddy’s home!” She ran to Daddy’s truck as it pulled into the driveway.
“I’ve got a mealworm called Charlie,” Paige told Daddy as he opened the truck door and stepped out, “and Mina won.”
“What’s a mealworm?” he asked.
“It’s brown and this long.” Paige held her fingers apart. “I have to feed it cut-up apples. And soon it’s going to come home.”
Daddy faked a shudder. “And Mina won what? A trip to Hawaii? A chocolate cake?”
“No, silly. She tied for first place in a running contest!” Paige skipped in a circle.
Mina closed her box of watercolors and waved to Daddy.
“Hey, what’s this I hear?” he called.
“I did pretty good at running the fifty meter.”
“Let’s see how good.” Daddy reached back into the truck for his measuring tape. He began to mark off fifty meters on the long driveway.
Mina double knotted her sneakers, then laid sticks down for the start and finish lines.
Daddy pushed buttons on his watch so that, instead of the time, the face displayed all zeros.
What kind of time would the watch show? Mina didn’t know what her time had been when she’d tied Ruth.
She leaned over the starting line as Ruth had done.
“One, two, three — go!” shouted Paige, and Mina took off, Poochie running beside her, yipping, her floppy ears flapping. Run, run, run, run, run, and Mina crossed the finish line!
Paige checked the numbers and called out the time: 7.9 seconds.
Mina ran again, and her time was better: 7.3 seconds. She ran again, and her time was worse.
Daddy gave her a hug when she panted and wobbled after the third run. “Pretty soon you won’t be wearing flowers anymore.” He tugged at her purple shirt. “Just stripes or some other sporty design. Take a look at that.” He pointed to her calf.
Mina flexed her foot and the muscle stood out along her bare lower leg. She was sure it hadn’t been like that before. She flexed her other foot. The same.
“You’re like Wonder Woman, Mina,” said Paige. “Or, I know!” She ran to the picnic table and picked up Mina’s painting. “You’re a Moon Runner!”
Poochie yipped. Mina and Daddy laughed. “Great name,” Daddy said.
Mina reached down and touched the muscles. They were firm under her hand. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. She smiled to herself. Moon Runner. She liked the sound.
“We’re missing recess,” Mina complained.
She and Alana were waiting for Sammy and Ruth by the hall door.
“I don’t think they stayed back with Ms. Jenner,” Alana said, peering into the dark hallway.
“Not unless they had to,” Mina said. Then: “Look!” She’d spotted the two of them running across the playground. “They must have gone out the other door.”
“Creeps,” said Alana, but she waved at Sammy as he looked in their direction.
Sammy waved back. He said something to Ruth, but she didn’t slow down or turn around.
“That’s okay,” Alana said. “I brought string for cat’s cradle.”
Mina watched Ruth and Sammy go to the far corner of the grass. Holding on to the chainlink fence, they walked along the narrow ledge separating the playground from the street, playing at being tightrope walkers.
It wasn’t Mina’s imagination. Ruth was avoiding her.
Alana had brought out the string. “Come on — let’s sit down.”
Mina held up her hands and let Alana do the tricks.
“Hold your fingers straight,” Alana commanded.
Mina peeked at Ruth and Sammy again.
Alana arranged Mina’s fingers one by one. “What’s wrong with you today?”
Mina forced herself to pay attention to Alana’s game of baby-in-the-cradle. If she didn’t cooperate, Alana might go play with Sammy and Ruth, on the ledge, leaving her alone.
Ruth had abandoned her, and there had been no moon in the sky that morning, This is the dark phase, Mina thought.
Along the fence, where the mower hadn’t reached, grew the purple flowers of alfilaria. Mina bent down to pick two long seedpods. “I’m not sure the Fellow Friends will last the year,” she said, threading the seedpods together.
“Why not?” Alana asked.
“Ruth doesn’t like me anymore. See how she’s only playing with Sammy?”
“The Fellow Friends breaking up would be too sad.” Alana poked out her lower lip. “I wish you and Ruth would be nice to each other.”
“Maybe I’ll just be friends with you,” Mina said quickly. With her fingernail, she poked a hole in one seedpod. She threaded the other seedpod through the hole, making a pair of scissors.
“That wouldn’t be the same,” Alana answered.
“I know.” Mina chopped at the air with her tiny green shears.
The whistle blew for the fifty-meter tryouts, and the class C girls took off.
Mina could hear the swish of Ruth’s nylon running shorts and could smell her lemony shampoo. Suddenly she thought of Sammy and Ruth playing on the ledge without her. Of the way the Fellow Friends were falling apart. Of Alana’s disappointment. Instead of trying hard, her body eased, like a rubber band that stretches and then relaxes. She fell back.
“Ruth Largness first! Shawndra Lopez second! Liz Barret third! Cassie Corbis fourth!” Coach shou
ted as they each came in.
Mina didn’t count how many other girls finished ahead of her. She could have done better. Maybe not well enough to beat Ruth, but at least well enough to place in the top four.
The breath caught in her throat like a drink of water that had gone down the wrong way.
In the afternoon, Mina and Ruth worked on the frog project. Instead of sitting next to Mina, Ruth took the photos to organize at a table across the room.
Mina copied onto the poster board: The red-eyed tree frog changes its color when it changes its mood. It can be dark green or a reddish brown.
Ruth changed like a tree frog, too, she thought. When Mina had been only a girlie girl, Ruth had been friendly. But now that Mina competed with her, Ruth ignored her. She felt like saying I lost the race on purpose. Just the thought made her bite the inside of her cheek. Why was Ruth still acting so cold?
Mina replayed the tryouts in her mind. She’d thought she didn’t care about winning, but losing had felt terrible.
At the end of science period, Ms. Jenner rang a chime.
Mina held the baggie open for the photos, and Ruth slid them in without touching Mina’s fingers.
As the class sat in a circle on the rug, Ms. Jenner passed around a picture of an ancient moon goddess. “The ancient Greeks called her Hecate,” she said.
“Why does she have three heads?” Sammy asked.
“Can anyone guess?”
“Like, ’cause the moon looks three different ways?” suggested Clarisa, who sat next to Mina in the circle.
“Yes, and because of the three phases, the ancient peoples thought the moon had three different personalities,” Ms. Jenner continued. “Some thought the crescent moon looked like a knife. The full moon seems to bring blessings. People believed that in her dark phase, the moon makes people go crazy.”
Sammy caught Alana’s attention, then traced circles in the air with his index finger.
Alana stuck her tongue out at him.
The moon changed the way the red-eyed tree frogs did. The way Ruth did.
Moon Runner Page 2