Mina thought about her own different faces. She wanted to win. She wanted to lose. She wanted to beat her friend. She wanted to keep her friend. Sometimes she just didn’t know what she wanted, who she was. There was the old stick-in-the-mud self and the new Moon Runner self and someone in between. She felt as three-faced as the moon.
At a special meeting after school, Coach sat everyone down at the lunch tables. It was time to announce the teams that would compete at Duncan Berring Elementary.
First he announced the boys, reading from the paper on his clipboard. The boys popped up and down and cheered when their names were read. Sammy didn’t make a team. But then again, he’d told Coach a long time ago that he’d be visiting his grandparents the weekend of the meet.
Coach announced the girls’ class D team, pausing between announcements for the noise to die away.
Mina straightened the fabric of her shorts, matching the stripes so they ran evenly from one side to the other. After her miserable finish in the fifty meter, she was sure she wouldn’t be on the Elizabeth Morris Elementary team.
“And on the class C fifty-meter relay team: Ruth, Shawndra, Liz, and Cassie.”
All four girls stood up and shouted, “Yes!” and slapped one another’s palms.
Mina sucked in a breath of air. But she’d been right. Even though she could run fast, she wouldn’t be competing. She wasn’t a racer after all. Mina closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her eyelids to keep from crying.
She heard Coach take in a breath, preparing for the next announcement: “And on the class C fifty-meter sprint: Mina Lee and Ruth Largness.”
Mina opened her eyes. At first a little flame of excitement rose up in her — she’d made it! Had she heard right? Ruth had stood up and was looking at her. Mina stood too and then Ruth sat down. No palm slapping. No Fellow Friends Handshake.
Mina focused on the asphalt underneath the picnic table. She scraped at the loose bits with her toe. Two Fellow Friends competing against each other.
She glanced in Ruth’s direction. How did Ruth feel? Did she think Coach’s assignment was a joke? Or was she a little worried?
But Ruth didn’t seem to be thinking about Mina.
She and the other three relay racers huddled together in a clump. They whispered some lovely secret, then burst apart with a cheer.
I ought to be excited, too, Mina thought. She’d made the team, after all. She’d made it without even being an athlete.
Yet instead of running with friends, she’d be running alone, against a friend. Sure, she’d be running against the girls from the other schools, but especially against Ruth. Only one girl would win first place.
“I’m in the fifty-meter sprint,” Mina told Mom as Mom fixed celery and peanut butter for Paige.
“My goodness, what big news,” Mom said. “Such a surprise, Mina.”
Mina ran her fingertip along the sharp edge of the countertop. She wished the news was as good as Mom thought.
Mom continued: “I want to see this with my own eyes, honey. Let’s go practice at the park. I haven’t jogged in weeks. I could use a run.”
Mom handed the celery sticks to Paige. “Bring these along, sweetie.”
The park lawn had just been mowed, the marks of the tractor mower imprinted in the soft, flattened grass. A eucalyptus tree cast dark green shadows.
Paige dashed to the swings and pumped her way up.
“Fly high, little hummingbird!” Mom shouted at Paige.
Mom jogged in place, then moved onto the grass. “I feel like I have two sacks of potatoes tied to my hips!” she shouted.
Mina had to laugh. She began to sprint, passing Mom.
“Go slow,” Mom said.
But Mom’s jogging looked like a funny walk. Mina wanted to show off. She wanted Mom and Paige to see her as the champion that she was. She went once around the edge of the park as fast as she could. Then she got a cramp in her side. She bent over and pressed on her ribs, but the pain didn’t go away.
Mina sat down on a bench and observed Mom’s slow progress — twice around, three times, four times.
Paige pumped the swing as high as it could go, the chains creaking against the horizontal pole.
Mom just kept plugging along. At least Mom was still running while Mina sat, a champ with a cramp.
Finally, Mom stopped and joined Mina on the bench. She rested her forearms on her thighs, her hands clasped together, and caught her breath.
“There’s more I haven’t told you,” Mina said suddenly. She put her feet side by side so that the toes of her sneakers lined up exactly. She hadn’t planned to talk about the painful stuff.
“About the team?”
Mina squeezed her feet tightly together. “I didn’t get chosen for the relay team. Ruth’s on it, but not me.”
“Well, at least you made a team. That’s a big deal.”
Mina sighed. Could Mom understand? “But I’m running against Ruth in the fifty meter. She’s on the individual, like me. If I win, our Fellow Friends group will fall apart for sure.” Her voice grew high and thin. “If I let Ruth win, I’ll feel icky about myself.”
“I’m beginning to see.” Mom straightened up and stretched her arms across the back of the bench.
“Something important happened the other day: Ruth has always been the fastest girl, but I tied her.”
“That’s quite something, Mina. Maybe Coach put you and Ruth both on the individual to break the tie.”
“Maybe.” Mina considered Mom’s idea. “And there’s something else.” She told Mom about the running times Alana had seen on Coach’s clipboard.
Mom whistled. After a moment, she stood up and took Mina’s hand, lifting her from the bench.
The two set off across the grass. Mina jogged as slowly as Mom did. Her feet touched the grass with soft, even thuds. Gradually, she forgot about Coach and his choice, Ruth and the team, and winning and losing.
Her breathing took on a rhythm — easy, easy, slow, slow, slow. She became aware of all the different parts of her feet — the little bones, the padded area of the sole, the round heels. Her footsteps landed, now and now and now. The earth turned up to meet her steps.
At lunchtime the next day, Mina found Coach at the last table on the end. “Could I talk to you?” she asked.
He nodded and gestured to the spot in front of him.
Mina sat down and set her paper lunch bag in her lap. She began to roll and unroll the top fold.
Coach laid his sandwich on its plastic baggie while he unscrewed the top of his thermos. He poured purple juice into a cup.
Mina thought about taking out her sandwich and munching away while she chatted with Coach. But she wanted to focus completely on what she had to ask. She plunged ahead: “I’m in the individual fifty meter and I’ve never run in a track meet before.”
Coach took a bite of his cheese on whole wheat.
“I’m kind of nervous. I was wondering if I could trade with someone and run with my friend Ruth Largness on the relay team instead.” The top fold of her lunch bag was becoming as soft as an old baby blanket.
Coach swallowed and swigged his juice. “Is that the real reason, Mina?”
Mina looked around. Ruth and Sammy sat at a far table. She didn’t see Alana, who was probably looking for her. A quick glance toward the basketball court took in Cassie from the relay team, walking with friends.
Did she dare tell the truth out loud?
Coach squinted at her in the bright sunlight, as though to see her better, as though urging her to trust him.
“I’m afraid of beating Ruth. She might not be friends with me if I do.”
Coach laughed. “That’s not how most athletes would look at it. But go on.”
“I’d feel better running with Ruth, on the relay team, instead of against her in the individual.”
“If you beat Ruth, she can take it. She may get miffed, but she won’t fall apart.”
“But I don’t want to hurt my frien
d.”
“Mina,” Coach said gently, swirling the juice around and around in the cup, “there’s a lot of responsibility in running on a team. I kept you off the relay team because of your inexperience. A lot’s at stake for your teammates. Worse than running against Ruth and beating her in the individual would be to run the relay and lose the race for Ruth and the other girls. Are you prepared to take that risk?”
So Mom had been wrong. Coach hadn’t meant to set her up against Ruth. He was only protecting the team. Mina sat up straighter. “I know I’m new to sports, but I do run fast. I don’t think I’d let the team down.”
Coach finished his sandwich, balled up the baggie, and put it into his lunch box. He drained the last of the juice, leaving a line of purple above his upper lip.
“I don’t usually make changes once I’ve made up my mind.” He paused and looked at Mina.
It seemed as though he wasn’t really looking at her, but at imaginary possibilities, picturing the races and all the different outcomes, good and bad. Mina clutched the top of her lunch bag.
“I’ll tell you what, Mina. I won’t do the changing. It’ll be up to you to convince one of those girls to change with you. You have my permission to ask them.”
Mina let go of her lunch bag and stretched out her fingers.
After Coach had packed up and left, Mina found Cassie on the playground, near the basketball hoops. She was trading a cookie for a juice box.
“Can I ask you something, Cassie?” Mina still held her bag of uneaten lunch. “In private?”
Cassie got up from her friends and walked across the basketball court with Mina.
Mina deliberately walked on one of the white stripes — as though the straightness could guide her words. “I was wondering if you’d trade places with me. Run my fifty meter and let me run on the relay team.”
“Why?” Cassie asked.
“Because Ruth Largness is my good friend and I’d like to run with her.”
Cassie stared into the sky above the basketball hoops. “No, I can’t do it. My softball throw is happening at the same time as the individual fifty meter. Sorry.”
“Thanks anyway,” said Mina. She walked off the straight white line and onto the wide expanse of grass.
During library time right after lunch, Mina whispered to Liz behind the shelves of biographies.
Liz didn’t even ask why Mina wanted to change. She just said loudly, making no attempt to whisper: “The fifty meter is over with too quickly.” Liz snapped her fingers. “Just like that. Even though I won’t be running the whole time, the relay lasts four times as long. Just think, though — if you win the individual, you get all the glory.”
Mina knelt down to tie her shoes.
Mina caught up with Shawndra on the way to PE.
When Mina asked the favor, Shawndra shrugged. “Doesn’t make any difference to me.”
“Let’s tell Coach now, then,” said Mina. She didn’t want Shawndra to change her mind.
They waited until Coach Lombard had finished assigning his high-school helpers for the day. He fanned himself with his big hat as he talked.
When Coach turned to Mina and Shawndra, Mina was afraid he might have forgotten their lunchtime conversation.
“Shawndra’s trading with me. Remember we talked about that?” Mina shifted from one foot to the other.
Coach continued to fan himself. “Are you sure about this, Mina?”
“Yes, Coach Lombard.” She nodded in case he hadn’t heard her.
But as she was walking away, a new thought struck her. Maybe Ruth wouldn’t want her on the team. Maybe she’d been happy with the way things were. Maybe she planned to make Cassie, Liz, and Shawndra her new Fellow Friends.
At home, on her bed, Mina found another library book that Mom had left her. On the cover was a woman running. Mina picked the book up. Inside, there were a few photos and miles of tiny words.
At first her brain marched slowly over the words, but then it began to jog, and then to run as Mina grew interested in the story of Wilma Rudolph, who had overcome polio and wearing an ugly leg brace and teasing by other kids to become the world’s fastest woman runner.
As Mina read, all of her own problems seemed like such little stuff. Even losing a friendship was nothing compared with almost not being able to walk, much less run.
The next afternoon, the relay team had the first practice. The sun flooded the playground with a yellow, even heat. Flutters of hot air rose from the flagstones of the lunch patio.
Mina faced the girls with her hands in her pockets and announced: “Coach traded me with Shawndra.”
No one said a thing. Ruth began to fiddle with the rubber band on her ponytail.
Coach strode over from the long jump. “We don’t have a real track here, so we’ll have to pretend. Each of you will stand fifty meters apart around a big oval. I’ve marked your places.”
An orange cone stood behind Coach. Mina shaded her eyes with her hand and looked off at the other three cones. “Cassie,” Coach continued, “you’re the first runner and will start here. Then Liz.” He pointed to the cone near the basketball court. “Mina.”
Mina’s cone rested under the shade of the mesquite tree.
“And Ruth, you’re by the fence.”
When Coach handed Cassie the baton, Mina leaned over to check out the slim, metal stick.
“Now, Cassie, when I blow my whistle, you’re going to shoot off like a rocket and take that baton to Liz. Liz will buzz along and hand it to Mina. Mina will blast off to Ruth, the final runner.”
They practiced the race four times, circling the grass. Each time, Mina put the baton firmly in Ruth’s outstretched hand.
At the end, when Coach said, “The team’s time is very good,” Mina noticed that he smiled especially at her.
Ruth went to pick up something she’d hidden under her sweatshirt. It was the Friendship Ball. “Here.” She handled the ball as though it were a bundle of dirty laundry, handed it over to Mina while yelling to Cassie, “Hey, wait for me!”
Mina lay back into her pillow and ruffled the pages of Seven Steps to Treasure. Francesca had been kidnapped by the owner of the diamonds but had found her way out of the dark basement by following a string she’d cleverly dropped behind her as she went.
String. Suddenly, Mina remembered the Friendship Ball.
She jumped up and rushed into the living room, where her backpack rested on the couch. No Friendship Ball.
She’d left it in the art room after the bell rang. She could see it clearly, sitting on the side counter.
What if the janitor threw it away? The ball looked kind of ratty.
Or what if another kid took it? Kids from all over the school were curious about the Friendship Ball and wanted to know what was so special about it. Some even joked that there was treasure hidden inside.
Mina looked at her watch: 8:02. The school building was closed.
She drank hot milk with cinnamon and counted bighorn sheep, but she couldn’t sleep.
She imagined the Friendship Ball rolling down the hallway and into the street. As it rolled, it came undone, the scraps of yarn flying off in the wind until it was nothing but the core of itself — a tiny knot of red yarn that untied and blew away.
Mina leaned up on her elbow and opened the window. The cool night air burst into the room.
How would the Fellow Friends feel if she’d lost the ball? They’d worked on it together all year, adding to it as their friendship grew. Even though she was the new Friend, they’d trusted her with the precious Friendship Ball. And now . . . Mina lay back down, pulled the blanket over her head, and nestled deep.
Mina banged on the doors of the school early the next morning. Someone had to be inside, because the lights were on in the southern wing.
Finally, Mr. Clark came, his ring of keys bouncing at his hip. “The before-school program isn’t open yet,” he announced, pushing the door open a crack.
“Please let me in for just
a sec,” said Mina. “I left something important in the art room. It’s an emergency.”
Mr. Clark shrugged. “I’ll let you look up there. But then you’ll have to wait on the playground.”
She followed him up the stairs in the gloom of early dawn.
At the door to the art room, Mr. Clark paused while he sorted through the bunch of keys.
Mina tried to peek through the frosted glass.
The door opened, and right away, Mina saw that the counter was empty. Down on her hands and knees, she searched under the tables, opened the shelves, letting the doors clatter. It has to be here. It has to be. She searched each spot again.
Finally, she lifted both hands to Mr. Clark. “It’s not here.”
Mr. Clark grunted and motioned Mina toward the door.
During morning recess, Sammy found some ladybugs over by the fence. Crawling on hands and knees, he, Alana, and Ruth began to hunt them in the long grass.
Mina hung back. How could she confess to everyone that she’d lost the Friendship Ball?
“Look,” Ruth was saying, “I got this from the garbage can.” She held up a juice carton. “It can be a ladybug house.”
Mina walked five steps until she stood over them. “Friends,” she began.
Alana and Sammy looked up.
“Friends. I’ve done something awful.”
Sammy sat up and rocked back onto his heels.
Alana shaded her eyes with her hand.
Ruth pulled the long blades of the grass apart, still searching for ladybugs.
Mina took a big breath. “I lost the Friendship Ball.”
There was a silence, then Sammy said, “You’re kidding. Where?”
“If she knew, it wouldn’t be lost,” Alana said.
Ruth said nothing.
Sammy concentrated on a ladybug creeping across his freckled hand. “It’s okay, Mina. It was just stupid yarn.”
“Yeah,” said Alana.
Ruth yanked up a clump of grass. Dirt dangled from the roots. “Are you guys crazy? It wasn’t just the stupid yarn but all our friendship wound up in there.” She threw the grass in Mina’s direction. “You were never a real Fellow Friend if you weren’t careful of our ball and went and lost it.”
Moon Runner Page 3