Serenade

by Heather McKenzie

  “It’s a good scratch; it’s not too deep, though,” she informed us as she pulled a small plastic box from her pack. “I’ll dress it, and he’ll be good to go.” She pressed a bandage to his ribs, and I noticed him wince, then a horrible cough burst from his lungs. “Drink,” she said and put her water bottle to his mouth. He shook his head defiantly. Then another hacking cough erupted, and he lunged for and downed the entire bottle.

  Blondie looked a little too pleased.

  “Are you all right, Oliver?” I asked, feeling useless beside Davis. “Should we get back to it?”

  Oliver looked at me through half-closed eyelids, but didn’t reply.

  “He needs to rest for a minute,” Blondie said, taking his pulse, “I wonder if he might have a bit of altitude sickness.”

  Oliver mumbled that he was perfectly fine and just needed a minute, then he tipped his face to the sun and closed his eyes.

  “I guess we rest for a bit then,” I said, outwardly feigning control over the situation while inwardly seething with jealousy.

  My own injury was inconveniently bleeding again. While Oliver sat there oblivious to everything around him, I pried off my shoe. The bandage had wiggled its way off, and who knew how much mud and bacteria had worked its way into the wound. Davis intervened, quickly cleaning and wrapping it for me without saying a word.

  When Oliver was finally ready to move again, Davis consulted the map and took us on a path that would lead to the summit of Mount Hazel. Here, we struggled with another climb, though thankfully not as difficult as the one before, and then we pushed ourselves up a winding, well-traveled mountainside. Oliver’s cough grew worse, but he wouldn’t slow down. He was fixated on marching ahead like a machine. Meanwhile, I stopped twice to throw up in the bushes. He didn’t even notice.

  Once we hit the plateau and our feet were firmly planted on the flat, grassy summit, Davis let out a triumphant wolf howl, and Blondie smiled earring to earring. I did a small happy dance, throwing my arms up like I did the night I danced with Angela, but Oliver’s face didn’t change. In fact, he looked completely miserable. From up here, there were seemingly endless skies and snow-topped peaks poking up from evergreen valleys for as far as the eye could see. It was completely breathtaking. It was the view that made everything worth it. Oliver barely seemed to notice.

  “Hey, you guys, thanks for doing this with me,” I choked out between heavy breaths. I was bursting with gratitude for my companions—maybe even the blonde.

  Davis’s sticky, hot hand grabbed mine, and a slight breeze wafted some of his body odor up my nose. He reeked, but oddly enough, it didn’t bother me. “I’m glad you brought me out here, Kaya… this is amazing,” he grinned, red-cheeked, bright-eyed, and glowing.

  I hugged him. Sometimes I felt like he was the only one who really understood ‘this’.

  “And you showed him, ya know,” he added with a gleam in his eyes.

  “Showed who, what?”

  “Henry. You’ve lasted eight times longer than he’d expected… that’s a lot of dough for him to lose if he would have bet against ya.”

  “Yes, you’re right!”

  I grinned madly with triumphant satisfaction at the thought and went to hug Oliver, but he just looked right through me and marched off with Blondie hot on his heels.

  I was dumfounded. In all the years of having him glued to my side, even when I hated him and was horribly nasty to him, he never ignored me like that.

  “He’s just anxious to get to some sandwiches,” Davis said quickly, but he was as shocked at Oliver’s behavior as I was.

  For the next hour, I chewed antacids like I was gnawing on fake-tanned, blonde, Barbie bones.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t take another step, the check-in hut came into view, glowing in the distance like a lighthouse in the twilight. I used my last bit of energy to sprint for it and practically collapsed at the steps from exhaustion and elation. Lit up like a Christmas tree, colored lanterns swung from the railing and the trees, and the fire pits roared with the sound of racers talking as they warmed their hands and sipped their drinks. After the mandatory once over, I was sent to first aid where a very kind woman froze and stitched my foot. I thanked her for the immense relief, and then I stuffed two peanut butter cookies in my mouth and a few in my pocket. I reached for a brownie but stopped when I heard Oliver, angry and slurring, arguing with someone from behind the hut.

  “Hey buddy, just chill, all right? Have a seat for a sec like they asked you to,” Davis was saying in a firm voice.

  I made my way around back to see Oliver wild eyed and confused. His arms swung heavily from his shoulders, and he shook them like he wanted to fight Davis.

  A medic spoke calmly, his neon vest displaying the name George in capital letters. He got in between Oliver and Davis with his hands up. “Listen, you might not be getting enough oxygen right now, sir. We’re trying to help you,” he said, and then firmly grabbed Oliver by the shoulders.

  Oliver pulled away and almost tripped backward, rotting deck boards creaking under his weight. When volunteers with radios started to gather around, I could tell by their anxious voices there was something really wrong with Oliver. All the hair on the back of my neck lifted.

  “Oliver, listen to them, please…” I begged, and suddenly his eyes snapped into focus on me.

  “Let’s get goin’, Kaya… we’ve got… race to run…” he said, and then he stumbled forward into my arms. His eyes were wobbling in his head, and a racking cough shook his entire body. Was he drunk? Having a stroke? As Davis and I struggled to keep him upright, someone jabbed a needle into his arm.

  “What the hell did you give him?” I asked George the medic when Oliver collapsed onto a stretcher.

  George seemed extremely relieved to have Oliver subdued. “Just something to keep him calm so we can get him to town. Pretty sure he’s got a touch of altitude sickness. Need medical attention. He’s a big guy—if he resists, it might compromise his safety and ours.”

  People had gathered around us like bugs around a lantern. So many faces staring in our direction stirred up my anxiety. I noticed Mark Reicht’s steely stare in the crowd, and I was almost glad I didn’t push him off the cliff—almost.

  “Kaya, they’re—takin’ me outta the race,” Oliver mumbled. “I’m sorry, baby.”

  His legs were being safely secured beneath wide straps, so I bent down to get close to his face. I had never seen him weak before. I wanted to be strong and say the right things, but my voice shook with fear. “It doesn’t matter; it’s just a race. All I care about is you. I’ll go with you to the hospital, don’t worry. I won’t leave your side.”

  He tried to bolt upright and winced. “No. Don’t you dare quit!” he roared. “Kaya, you can do this… you’re right, I can’t keep you locked up all the time. You gotta keep at it, my girl, and besides—you’ve got Davis.”

  “I promise to look after her. You have my word,” Davis interjected.

  I felt tears coming on and fought desperately to keep them away. I hadn’t been anywhere or done anything without Oliver at my side in so long…. “No, I can’t just leave you like this,” I said, feeling my stomach twist.

  “I mean it, Kaya!” Oliver roared with a ferocity that made me jump.

  The crowd around us instantly grew silent, and the preparations to extract him came to a grinding halt. I could tell George was contemplating giving Oliver another sedative.

  “Oliver, you’re hurt, so please relax. I’m tired and was ready to go home, anyway. I won’t leave you,” I said, trying to reason with him.

  His brown eyes fluttered, becoming distant for a moment, and then his hand reached for mine. “No, I’m not hurt. I’m fine. Now, do what you came here to do… or I’ll never forgive myself for being the reason you didn’t. Promise me you’ll keep going.”

  I squeezed his hand tight. “Yes, I promise,” I said with the fingers of my other hand crossed behind my back.

  George placed
an oxygen mask over Oliver’s mouth, and then he offered me his unwanted advice.“I’m sorry miss, but he’s right. You should go on and finish. You wouldn’t be able to travel down with us, anyway.”

  Then Oliver was pulled away. I wanted to tell him I loved him and that I couldn’t go on without him—but there was no point. His eyes were shut, and he was out cold.

  While holding hands, Davis and I stumbled across the third checkpoint at 6:45 pm. After a fist bump and a bear hug, he made his way toward the snack tent, and I plunked myself down on the closest bare patch of earth that looked somewhat comfortable. I was happy to have gotten so far, but I felt lost without Oliver. For years, we had never been apart. He’d become an extension of my body. He called the shots. He made the decisions. Without him, everything seemed uncertain and vast… as if the space around me had been multiplied a thousand times.

  I hoped Davis would understand when I told him that I had to leave the race.

  He returned wearing what I assumed was orange soda and a trail of blueberry muffin crumbs on his shirt. His clothes had lost their vibrancy from being covered in dirt, yet he still glowed. His brown hair was sticky-looking with bits of mud still clinging to it from the bog, and scrapes covered his knees. I’d never seen anyone happier

  “I finally got in contact with Stephan—reception’s back,” he said and pointed to his earpiece. “He said to tell you that Oliver is just fine and not to worry. He’s sleeping off a smidge of altitude sickness. In the morning, he’ll be good as new.”

  A massive wave of relief came over me. If Oliver was okay, then maybe I could finish the race. Seeing his proud face when I crossed the finish line on my own would be priceless. And Henry? He could suck it. He could wrap his lips around a great big giant as—

  “Everything okay, lil’ bud?” asked Davis.

  “I’m fine,” I smiled. “Just thinking about how amazing it will be to get to the end. And on my own, if you know what I mean.”

  “I do. And you’re gonna make that happen. I know it.” He grinned, pulling his hair back into a ponytail. “Maybe you should get that foot checked again, though.”

  He was right. My once-pink runner was now completely brown now—and not from mud.

  I found a medic to freeze and re-stitch the cut again—which I hoped looked worse than it was. Once it was completely numb, I could shoot bullets into my foot and feel nothing.

  The sun was completely gone, and the sky was that ink-black color you only saw in the mountains. The icy air had dropped by about ten degrees just in the last hour, and I could see my breath. Davis and I put on our jackets and we checked the contents of our packs—water, protein bars, dry shirts, headlamps and extra batteries, protective glasses, rain jacket and gloves, sunscreen, band aids, bear spray, bug spray, extra shoes and socks—basically more crap than anyone could possibly use. My pack was heavy, and I contemplated ‘accidentally’ losing it in the bush somewhere. At least it made a good backrest. Leaning against it, I rubbed my sore legs with one hand and tried to eat a peanut butter sandwich with the other.

  “Got you a sandwich, too,” I told Davis. “There isn’t much protein in those blueberry muffins.”

  “Thanks,” he said with a wink, “I’ll need that an hour from now.” He wrapped the sandwich carefully in a napkin and put it in his pack. “How’s the foot?” he asked.

  “Perfect. That freezing is the cat’s butt.”

  “Excellent,” he said with a yawn. “Okay, well, I’m just gonna shut my eyes for ten minutes.”

  Before I could protest, he spread out on the ground and immediately passed out cold. If I didn’t know him so well, I would have thought he had died right then and there. I sat beside him and finished my sandwich while he snored for exactly ten minutes.

  My foot was the only thing that didn’t hurt when we started on the fourth leg of the race. We eased back into a jogging pace with limited visibility. I stumbled a few times, talking myself into making it just to the next tree, and then just to the next rock. I kept this game going, my heart pounding like it might burst out of my chest. Just when I thought I might die of exhaustion, adrenaline kicked in, and a euphoric feeling took over. I became Superwoman conquering the world. My body was an efficient machine—every muscle in sync, lungs powerful, and mind alert and clear. I looked behind often to see the neon vests of the other runners, the lights on their headgear bobbing up and down as hilariously as my own, and realized that they were nowhere to be seen. Ha. The Lowen Security losers couldn’t keep up.

  But… Blondie was back. Like the plague.

  Davis puffed out his chest and grinned madly when she ran up beside him. She didn’t look dirty or tired or like she’d even broken a sweat—which I thought was odd. Her boobs bounced like basketballs in the tight jacket zipped low enough that I hoped she would get a nasty chest cold.

  The light on Davis’s hat made it fairly obvious where he was looking. “Hey Barbara,” Davis said in his late-night radio DJ voice.

  “Hey Ken,” she cooed back.

  I let loose an involuntary snort; Ken was Davis’s alias… Ken and Barbie—hilarious!

  “How’s your friend, the big guy?” she asked, and I swear she batted her eyelashes.

  Davis’s tongue was tied up, and his eyeballs were bulging out of his head, so I replied for him. “He’s just fine. Go on ahead, and don’t worry about us,” I said, but, apparently, I was invisible, so my words drifted off into the abyss.

  “Hey, thanks again for that sports drink you gave me back there,” Davis said to Blondie, “but I hope you don’t mind if I gave it away. I just can’t do anything grape flavored since grade twelve graduation. Tequila and grape pop—bad combo.”

  Blondie stumbled and actually seemed offended. Her eyebrows crumpled into what I would imagine sad little caterpillars to look like. “You gave it away?” she croaked.

  “Yah, some dude looked a little parched, so I offered—”

  She came to a grinding halt. Davis did too. His headlamp shone on her wide eyes. “You all right?” he asked her.

  “Oh yeah, just got a cramp is all… and I should wait for my, uh, friend… I’ll catch up…” she said, sounding strained.

  I had to pull a reluctant Davis away. “She’s so weird,” I said to his red cheeks.

  “Yeah, but so damn cute, and that, uh… jacket…”

  I punched him in the arm as Blondie faded into the background where she belonged.

  A bright, round moon lit the wide patch of barren terrain with an eerie glow. It almost felt like we had landed on Mars. It was flat, dry, dusty, and without a single weed or blade of grass. It made moving fast very easy. We kept an even pace, stopping only to sip water, fix a dying flashlight, and so I could catch my breath twice. Then we were back in the thick of the trees, making it past the escape station at Mount Hamel—the last place you could get off this ride if you wanted too—and finally to the forestry check-in tower in good time. We were both exhausted but elated.

  When Davis dropped to the dirt to stretch out, I decided to just rest my muscles for a minute, too, so I lay next to him on the cold ground. I liked Davis’s power nap idea but knew I wouldn’t wake for hours—there were stories of the cleanup crew finding racers who were sound asleep the next morning. With my luck, I’d be one of them.

  So instead, I gazed up at the starry sky and tried to push my mind away from the heaviness in my chest. I thought of Oliver beaming brightly when I made it to the end, and how I would fall into his arms as Stephan grinned madly with that stupid T-shirt on. And then there was the stranger. He was softly smiling, his dreamy, blue eyes blinking slowly while his voice, soft as butter, congratulated me and asked for my name again. No. I already had him out of my head, why was he here? I was telling him to go away, but he wouldn’t leave. I tried to push him, but I couldn’t reach… leave me alone… leave me alone…

  Then Davis’s booming voice shook the earth, and I bolted upright. “Kaya! Let’s rock this!” he yelled, face lit up with more
enthusiasm than should be legal.

  I swear my heart stopped. Obviously, I’d fallen asleep, and now I was just super aware of how horrible I really felt. Davis stood grinning madly with twigs in his hair, chugging back a cup of coffee with probably twelve spoons of sugar in it. He looked dirty, but brand new. My adrenaline, however, was gone, and in its place was an intense ache and stiffness in every single part of my body. Everything hurt, even my hair. And, on top of that, the vision of the stranger was back.

  “I feel like a steaming tower of crap,” I admitted.

  Davis laughed and handed me a bottle of water. “Well, this is Rockstar Juice. Keeps even the most tired and wasted musician fired up for hours. Tip it back, and you’ll be kickin it like Steven Tyler on the Back in the Saddle Tour.”

  “Who?”

  “Who?” said Davis incredulously, “Oh my God, Kaya. You’re kidding me… only the greatest rock singer in the world! Steven-freaking-Tyler! Rock God of Aerosmith. “Janie’s Got A Gun”? “Dream On”? “Sweet Emotion”? The entire Pump album?”

  I shook my head in tired confusion.

  He sighed heavily. “You need a classic rock education… but for now, this drink is the power of positive thinking in a bottle, my friend,” he whispered with a sly grin.

  I drank the water, wishing it really were magical, because I felt like only a miracle would get me through this. When I was done, Davis widened his stance and grinned madly at my deadpan face.

  “Now, are you ready to rock?” he said as he assumed the stance of a man ready to play the guitar solo of his life.

  I nodded my head feebly.

  “Let me ask you again, Miss Katy Adams… are you ready to ROCK?” he roared, throwing finger horns to the sky. A woman behind him bolted for the shack.

  His excitement was infectious. “Yes, Ken, I was born ready.” I laughed and returned the rock and roll salute. Then, after our mandatory fist bumps, we were off on the fifth and final leg of the Death Race.