"Thanks for the ride," I said.
"Hey, if it's okay, I thought I'd help you. Maybe run with you." He cut the engine and patted his stomach. "I could use the exercise. I used to have to run lines for football. I could jog with you and time you as you do sprints."
I shrugged. "Okay," I said.
We both got out and walked to the track. My dad wasn't someone who talked a lot, unlike my mother who talked all the time, so we just walked side by side.
"I'm proud of you," he said.
"How come?" I asked.
He put his arm around me. "You're doing a great job on this track team. Sam says you're working really hard."
"I like the races best."
"Yeah, it's like any sport. The race or the game is always the best thing and the part that keeps you practising. But you do have to practise. Of course, it has to be fun too. That counts for a lot."
My dad ran around the track with me a few times, maybe four, but he had to stop because he said it was a long time since he'd run. Then he said I should do some stops and starts, and he would maybe run again later. The stuff he had me do was kind of like the stuff I had done with Mr. Rossi where I ran and walked.
I lined up and got in my crouch and he yelled GO. I took off, going as fast as I could. Then he yelled STOP and I walked. It was different than doing it at track practice because I wasn't running beside anyone, so it made it harder to keep going. After I'd gone a couple of times around the track, my dad called out to me.
"One more time," he said.
"It's boring," I said.
He walked over to me. "Okay. I understand. You just needed to break in your shoes anyways. You did a good job." He smiled at me. "You're going to be great this week at the school meet. You want to run once more around, maybe as a cool-down? I think I could manage another lap if we went slow." I looked down at my arm and saw the V that I had written. Video games weren't boring, especially the one Donny gave me. I had to get it.
"I'm going to run home," I said.
"That's a great idea," said my dad. "Good cool-down." He gave me a playful punch on the arm. "Plus, I didn't really want to run another lap anyway."
I laughed and gave him a little punch back. We always play like this. Back and forth, we jabbed each other, just for fun. He always says it has to be just for fun. Then he managed to get me in a headlock and he rubbed my head. Then we jabbed a bit more and I got him in a headlock and rubbed his head. He laughed.
"Let me go!" He laughed and laughed.
I was laughing too. I did let him go and he said, "I'll follow you home in the car."
I glanced around, trying to figure out how I was going to get the video game without him seeing.
"You can go," I said.
"I should follow you."
My dad and I walked to his car and he got in and I started to run. He honked his horn and I waved to him. When we got home we both went into the house. Then I told him I was going to have a shower. I pretended to go to my room but when he went in the kitchen I snuck out the back door. Then I ran like crazy back to the school.
When I was in front of the bush, I got down on my knees and felt around in the dirt under the biggest branch. I felt and I felt. My hand scratched along the dirt. I couldn't find it. I kept patting the dirt. Finally, I laid down and tried to look. I saw it! Pushed way at the back. I wiggled closer until my hand felt the plastic, then I pulled it out.
I couldn't wait to get home and play it.
Holding the video, I ran home but when I got close to my house I knew I had to figure out how to get it inside. I didn't have a PlayStation in my room, so I would have to go to Declan's room.
I went quietly in the back door and when I was sure no one had noticed me, I stuck it in my shorts and pulled my shirt overtop. Then I raced through the kitchen and scooted down the hall.
"I made you lemonade," my mother called out to me.
"Okay, hang on," I said. I went into the washroom and got a towel and wrapped the game in it. I creaked open the washroom door and peered down the hallway. It was empty. I went to my room and stashed the video under my mattress.
Then I went to the kitchen and picked up a glass of lemonade, swigging it down in three big gulps. I wiped my mouth with my hand.
"I thought Dad said you were having a shower," she said. Then she looked me up and down. "Why are your clothes so dirty?"
I looked down at my shirt and saw that it was stained brown from the dirt. "I dunno."
She narrowed her eyes at me. "It looks like you were crawling on the ground. Or did you fall?" She bent down to look at my knees. "No scratches."
"I fell but didn't hurt myself." I backed away from her. "Where's Dad?" "He's still in the shower." She laughed. "You wore him out." "Is Declan home?"
"No. Declan is working today. He started his job. Remember when he left this morning?" She smiled.
I thought about him leaving, wearing a blue shirt that said Best Buy. "I hope he brings home a video."
"Stuart, he can't just take things from the store now that he works there. Even as an employee, he will have to pay for things."
"That sounds like a shitty job."
"Hey, watch your language." She wagged her finger at me. Whenever I swore, she always told me to watch my language.
"Have you been listening to music you're not supposed to?" she asked.
"No," I said. "My teacher said it in class."
She frowned at me. "Is that the truth?"
I shrugged. "I dunno." I stood there for a second before I said, "Can I watch television? Dad said the golf was on."
"Sure," she said. "I have to go out and run an errand and pick up Declan, but Dad is staying home. If you need anything, ask him."
After she left, I went and had a shower. After my shower, I saw my dad and he was doing something in the garage.
I went to my room and got the video, then I tiptoed across the hall to Declan's room. He had a television in his room and he could only play video games on it. He was allowed a television because he didn't wreck things and my parents said he was responsible with his games. I wanted one too. But they thought I might break it and I wasn't allowed until I stopped punching my walls. Declan didn't punch walls. If he got mad he lifted weights in the garage.
I quietly closed the door and slipped the video into the PlayStation. I plunked down in front of it with the controller. When the screen lit up, my heart started racing and I stared at the zapping colours. The lights, the buzzing, the flash of red and yellow and black and deep purple made my body buzz too.
Focus. That's what Sam always said to me.
Fun. That's what my dad had said. If it was fun, it was okay. Playing this video game was fun! So that would make it okay.
I started playing at level 1 but wanted to get to level 2, which meant killing. Whoever got in my way. I used guns and knives and even hand knuckles to kill people. Make them bleed. Hold their wounds and die. Die. Die. I moved my body with the action and never let my eyes leave the screen.
Even when the door burst open.
I was on level 4 and was in mid-kill, so I didn't even look to see who it was. There was no way I could take my eyes off or else I would be killed.
"What are you doing in my room?" Declan grabbed the controller from my hand.
"Don't!" I tried to keep hold of the controller. I was almost on level 5! Then I got shot. Red blood spurted from my chest and I fell, clutching my heart where I'd been shot. A weird sound came from the television and it was like warped music. It meant I was slowly dying and soon would be completely dead.
"Why did you do that?" I screamed at Declan. "Now I'm dead. I would have made level 5!"
"Where'd you get this game?" He held up the case that the game had come in.
"None of your business." I scowled at him and tried to grab the case from his hand, but he put it behind his back.
"It's mine," I said.
"Where'd you get it? We don't even sell this game at Best Buy. It's too vio
lent. It's rated the most violent game on all the lists."
"I like it," I yelled. "It's fun. Dad says things have to be fun."
"I'm telling him you're playing this game unless you tell me who gave it to you."
I exhaled through my teeth. He was making me sooo mad. I was ready to hit something or punch a hole in his wall. That's how mad I was. He just ruined me getting to level 5. I wanted to jump on him or punch him in the face. I made my hand into a fist and tried to slug him, but he grabbed my wrist and held on to it. He was so strong. I tried to kick him too, but he pushed me against the wall.
"Stop trying to hit me," he said. "I'm stronger than you. Now, who gave you that game?"
Declan stared me right in the eyes and I knew I was never going to be able to get away from him.
"Okay," I said. "Let me go and I'll tell you."
He dropped his arms and mine just fell to my side. Then I shook my arms, especially my wrist.
He was still standing in front of me, though, kind of like a wall. I thought I could try to duck under him, but he might grab me again.
"Okay," I said, through clenched teeth. "Donny did. But he told me not to tell."
"You're so stupid to see him." He shook his head at me and stepped back.
"I didn't see him. He just gave me that game."
"You're going to jail."
"I am not."
"Yeah, you are. If you keep hanging out with him. There was a kid in my class who hung out with a friend of Donny's and he's in jail. The kid robbed a grocery store and killed the store owner and went to jail for murder."
"Murder?"
"Donny told him to kill a real person instead of just a person on the video game. He has guns y'know. Have you seen his guns?"
"I dunno." I looked at the floor.
"You've seen his guns?"
"NO!"
"People get beat up in jail," he said. "Every day. You'll get beat up and you'll never see Mary's baby if you go to jail. You'll be a bad influence. You won't be an uncle."
"Shut up!"
Declan walked over to the PlayStation and pulled the game out of the machine, and before I could snatch it from his hands, he broke it in half. The snap was so loud and it made me so mad. I stomped out of his room, and went across the hall to my room. The first thing I saw was my walls, and I was about to punch one when my dad walked into my room.
"There you are," he said. "Mom told me to find you. She thought you were watching golf. But then she heard noise and thought you and Declan were fighting."
Air hissed out of me, and my arms felt like wet noodles, not arms that could punch a wall. They hung to my side.
"Are you watching golf?" I asked my dad without looking at him. Maybe he would watch it with me. In the summer we went golfing. I liked driving the cart the best.
"Yeah, I can," he said. "If you want to."
"Okay," I replied. "I want to."
****
On Monday, I went to school with my new running shoes because I had a track-and-field practice after school. After the last bell rang, Sam met me at the doors leading outside to the track-and-field area. I had made my way down to that door by myself because Tony had reminded me about my practice. And Mr. Rossi had seen me in the hall and stopped to talk to me. Teachers didn't usually stop to talk to me in the halls unless I was doing something wrong, like dodging people.
Outside, Mr. Rossi called us all over because he wanted to talk to us. Sam said that I was going to work with the other kids again today. I thought if that mean kid said anything to me, I was going to turn around and clock him one. I swear I would. Punch him hard.
I felt all angry inside, like my blood was moving too fast and my head was exploding. Declan had made me so mad, wrecking my game and telling me I was going to jail. He'd said that to me again this morning.
I stood at the back of the group when Mr. Rossi was talking. Sam tried to get me to go to the front, but I wouldn't budge forward. I didn't want to. I started to get all jittery with him telling me to move forward. Why didn't people listen to me when I said I didn't want to do something?
"No," I said. "I want to stand here."
"But you can't see."
"I don't care," I said loudly. All the kids turned to stare at me. "Stop staring," I said.
Sam leaned in to me. "It's okay," he said. "You can stay where you are."
I sort of listened but it was hard to do when so many things were bubbling. I felt like a firecracker was going to go off inside of me.
At the end of Mr. Rossi's talk, Sam leaned in and said, "Do you understand what you're going to be doing?"
"I dunno."
"It's similar to the other day, where you run fast, then run slow, then run fast again. And you're going to be working with the blocks today with the other runners.
"Okay," I said. I liked that.
I lined up where Mr. Rossi and Sam said to line up, and I was beside the boy who didn't like me. He pushed me a little and moved in front of me. Like, stood right in front of me so I couldn't see. Now I wanted to see and didn't want him standing in front of me. I didn't like that he did that.
The whistle blew and everyone started running. I tried to start like everyone else, but the boy pushed me again. After I'd righted my body, I ran. The whistle blew and I slowed down like I was supposed to. Then it blew again and I was ready.
I ran hard, like really hard, because I was going to go by that kid and nail him one. Push him like he pushed me. As I went by him, I was on the outside, so I used my elbow to shove him, and he was running so fast, he tripped and went flying on the grass beside the track.
The whistle blew and I kept running instead of stopping. I didn't care. I ran by a whole bunch of kids.
"Hey, kid, you're supposed to walk now!"
I heard the boy behind me yelling. "That stupid kid pushed me on purpose! He should be kicked off the team!"
Sam was on the inside of the track and I could see him coming toward me. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Stuart, slow down. The whistle blew!"
So I did. I stopped running and just walked. Like everyone else. But then Mr. Rossi called us all in and the kid who fell got up and wiped grass off his legs. I heard Mr. Rossi asking him if he was okay and he said he was and then he said some mean things about me. I didn't care. He'd pushed me first.
Sam came over and walked beside me. "Why did you push him?" he whispered.
"Because he pushed me first," I said.
"That's what I thought," he said quietly. He didn't say anything else to me and now we had to go and listen to Mr. Rossi again. He talked about how we couldn't push each other on the track because we all belonged on the same team, even though we would be competing against each other. Made no sense.
"Why are we on the same team?" I asked Sam. "We always go against each other."
"Because you're from the same school. The school gets points at the city meet with the other schools," said Sam. "If the school gets the most points then everyone from our school wins."
Now we had to walk over to the start line because we were going to practise on the blocks. Finally, something fun to do.
Sam continued talking, "You do have to win something at our school event on Thursday, though, to be part of the team that goes to the city meet. You do remember you are racing Thursday, right? Your family is coming to watch."
I nodded. I did remember that because it was written on the calendar in our kitchen, and my mother made me read the calendar every day.
"That will be fun," I said. "As long as I'm not beside that stupid kid who pushed me."
Sam stopped me from walking and turned me to face him. He grabbed my shoulders and looked at me. "If you are beside him, ignore him and beat him. Just run by him. That's better than any push."
I nodded.
"You're going to love racing on Thursday. That's where you'll shine. And if before Thursday someone pushes you, you just tell me, instead of sending the guy flying off the track. That kid is worried
you're going to take his spot. Stuff like that happens in sports. Believe me, I know."
I nodded. "If he does it again and I tell you, what will you do to him?"
"I won't push him back, but I'll talk to Mr. Rossi, okay?"
I shrugged. I was going to work with the blocks now, so I didn't really care.
The blocks were all set up and Mr. Rossi told eight of us to go to them, while the others did exercises on the grass—those high legs and mountain climbers and stuff I didn't want to do. I was glad to be going out of the blocks. I put my one leg back and my other leg forward, just like Sam had shown me. I put my fingers on the ground and looked straight ahead.
Mr. Rossi said, "On your marks. Set. GO."
I flew out of the blocks and ran five steps. Just like he told me to do. The next time, Mr. Rossi said that instead of saying GO he was going to use a GUN. We were going to practise with a GUN. Because that's how the race would be started on Thursday. I wanted to see the gun. Touch it.
Shoot it. Yes, I wanted to shoot the gun.
While everyone set up, Sam came up behind me. "Do you understand about the gun?" he asked me, and I barely heard him because he spoke so quietly.
I nodded. "Can I see the gun?" I wondered if it was like Donny's.
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