Running Behind

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Running Behind Page 2

by Sylvia Taekema


  “No.”

  “I’m sure if—”

  “No.”

  Jake was becoming frustrated. “Won’t you even try to work with me here? Maybe running doesn’t mean as much to you, but the rest of the guys worked really hard and were really looking forward to—”

  Spencer stood up quickly. “Stop.”

  Jake stopped. There was something strange in Spencer’s voice.

  “Running does mean a lot to me. It does. I really want to go with you, but I can’t.”

  Jake took a deep breath. “Okay. Well, you’d better explain, or we’re all just going to think you’re a jerk.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. So make me. What’s so important this weekend?”

  Spencer sat down again but didn’t answer.

  “I’m not leaving until I know,” said Jake firmly.

  Spencer shrugged. “I’m spending the weekend with my dad.”

  “What, he doesn’t live with you? I get that. That happens, and it’s lousy, but can’t you reschedule? Come on, man. It’s the provincials. We need you!”

  Something banged against the door. Spencer got up quietly and opened it. A man rolled out in a wheelchair.

  “Thanks, Spence, but I could have gotten the door. Are you coming in? Breakfast’s almost ready.” He looked over at Jake and smiled. “Good morning.”

  “Dad, this is Jake.”

  Jake nodded. “Hi.”

  “Nice to meet you, Jake. So you’re a runner too,” he said, looking down at Jake’s shoes. “Did you guys just go out for a jog together?”

  Jake started to reply, but Spencer’s dad continued on. “It’s nice to have a running partner. I told Spencer he should look into joining a team.”

  Jake looked puzzled. Spencer jumped in quickly. “Dad, we’re just going to do a quick cooldown. Back in fifteen, okay?”

  “Okay,” said Spencer’s dad. “But no more than that. You don’t want to miss out on my famous pancakes.” He spun his chair and went back into the house.

  Chapter Five

  Spencer pulled Jake out of the yard and started running down the sidewalk.

  Jake hurried to keep up. “Spencer, wait. That’s your dad? Then he does live with you. But I thought I saw you with your family a while ago, at the new pizza place, and he…”

  Spencer kept running. “He what? Wasn’t in a wheelchair?” He shook his head. “That was my uncle Jerry. He took me and my mom and my sister out for pizza. My dad was in the hospital overnight for some tests.”

  “Okay, but what gives? Your dad doesn’t even know anything about the Diamonds club or about this race. If you tell him, I’m sure—”

  Spencer stopped and leaned up against a lamppost. He suddenly seemed very tired. “It’s complicated.”

  “Try me, or I’m going back to your house to eat your pancakes and ask your dad what’s going on.”

  “My sister has a gymnastics competition in Hamilton this weekend. My mom’s going with her. It’s been planned for weeks, but of course I didn’t pay much attention to the dates and stuff.”

  “Okay.”

  “They’re taking the car.”

  “And?”

  “So I can’t go.”

  “Why?”

  “Because my mom is taking the car.”

  “Why does that matter? We’re all going up to Barry’s Bay in Dave’s van. There’s just enough room for all seven of us.”

  “Exactly. I can’t go if my dad doesn’t go.”

  “But it’s okay if none of us can go?”

  Spencer frowned but didn’t reply.

  “Can’t we just go explain things to your parents and work something out?”

  “No! Listen, as soon as I heard about my sister’s plans for the weekend, I didn’t even tell my mom and dad about the race. There’s no point.”

  “But how do you know you can’t go if you didn’t even ask? Come on, let’s find out.”

  “No. It’s a Saturday. I have to be with my dad.”

  Jake looked at Spencer. There was more to this, he could tell. “Why are you doing this to the team?”

  “Look, Jake, I don’t know you very well. Maybe I should tell you the whole story, but I don’t know if I can trust you to keep it to yourself.”

  “You can. I promise.”

  Spencer sighed. He swiped at his eyes. “Cold air always makes my eyes water,” he mumbled.

  Jake knew it wasn’t the cold air. “Yeah,” he said, “mine too.”

  Spencer cleared his throat. “My dad was in a car accident at the end of January. It was really snowy, and he got T-boned by another driver. His back is messed up. He can’t work. We all hoped that he would recover completely, but the tests he just had showed that’s probably not going to happen.”

  Jake paused before he answered. He knew he had to be careful. “That’s rough, Spencer. I’m really sorry, but…” He paused and took a deep breath. He needed to finish this. “I still don’t understand what that has to do with the race this weekend.”

  Spencer didn’t look up from the sidewalk as he spoke. “It’s my fault. It was Saturday, and I was supposed to go with him. I had something else I wanted to do instead. I can’t even remember what it was anymore. Something unimportant. And he got hurt. I should have been there.”

  “Spencer, think. If you had been there you might have been hurt too—or worse.”

  “No, don’t you see? I might have been able to see the other guy coming. I might have been able to warn my dad. If I’d been there, maybe the accident wouldn’t have happened at all. We would have stopped for donuts or something and he wouldn’t even have been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He always liked to get donuts when we were out together.”

  “But that doesn’t make sense. You’re not responsible for what happened.”

  “Maybe not. But I know one thing. We do Saturdays together. If my dad can’t come to the race, I’m not racing.”

  “But you love to run.”

  “I do. I used to run with my dad. Sometimes I feel guilty for still running when he can’t, but it makes me feel so… free.” He shook his head. “But I’m not running this weekend.”

  Jake wanted to argue, but he understood the pain he saw on Spencer’s face. He sighed and began to walk away.

  “Jake, you said I could trust you. You won’t tell anyone, will you? You can’t. Especially my dad. He would make me go.”

  “I want him to make you go.”

  “I know. But it’s no good. If he’s not there I won’t be able to run anyway.”

  Jake figured that was the truth. He shook his head. “I won’t tell.”

  Chapter Six

  Jake started to walk home. He knew he would have to call Dave. But he didn’t want to. He really didn’t want to.

  The street was busier now. The neighborhood had woken up, but Jake felt like he was in a fog. A door slammed in the distance. Jake heard heavy footsteps coming up behind him. He turned. Simon Patterson ran past, stopped and backed up a few steps.

  “Jake?” Behind thick lenses his eyes were round with surprise. “What’s up? Everything okay?”

  Jake shrugged. “Just out for a run.”

  “All the way out here? Didn’t Dave tell you guys just to do a light run today if you went out at all? Cheese curds, you guys are hard-core. What’s a long run for you, to Alaska and back?”

  Jake smiled. He was glad Dave had asked Simon to come along to the big race. Then he remembered there wasn’t going to be a big race. Unless…Simon wasn’t actually running in the race. Could he ask Simon to stay home so there would be an extra seat in the van for Spencer’s dad? Jake took a deep breath. He didn’t know how to do it without breaking his promise to Spencer or hurting Simon’s feelings.

  “I’ve already got my stuff packed,” Simon was saying. “Just need snacks and a sleeping bag. I can’t wait!”

  Jake looked at his curly-haired friend. He opened his mouth but then clos
ed it again. He couldn’t find the words after all. He didn’t want to go without Simon. But that meant none of them were going to Barry’s Bay. A hard lump formed in his throat. Should he break the news to Simon, or should he let Dave do it?

  Before Jake could decide, a school bus passed them. Simon took off running. “Gotta go, Jake. That’s my bus. See you tomorrow!”

  Jake watched until Simon had disappeared inside the bus, then turned around and started walking again. He was going to be late for school, but he couldn’t find the energy to run. He needed to call Dave. He needed to think of something else to do this weekend.

  A green Jetta pulled over to the curb. Jake’s dad hollered to him through the open window. “Jake-o! It’s getting late. Want a ride?”

  Jake got into the passenger seat and put on his seat belt.

  “You’ve come a long way out this morning. I thought I’d zip you back to the house so you won’t be late for school.”

  Jake nodded. “Thanks. Sometimes running helps me think.”

  “You must be pretty down about the race, huh?”

  Jake didn’t answer. He could hardly speak with the lump in his throat.

  “It’s too bad,” said his dad as he put the car in gear and pulled back onto the road. “I was thinking about coming up to Barry’s Bay too. I know it’s a few hours away, but I thought the race might be pretty exciting to watch.”

  Jake looked at his father. “Really? What about work?”

  “I already had the day booked off. I’ve been meaning to get that garage cleaned out and some things put away before winter’s here—the lawn mower, the patio set, you know—but as soon as you guys qualified I started thinking the garage can wait. It’s a pretty big deal, Jake. Your mom and I are so proud of you. And, truth be told, I would have been okay getting away from all that wailing going on as Luke practices for his concert. A quiet ride would have been just the ticket. It would have been a long drive to go solo, but—”

  Jake was getting an idea. “What if you had company?”

  “Who? Luke and your mom are busy with his big event. There’s no way either of them can go.”

  Jake tried to keep his voice level. This could totally work! “Spencer’s dad was thinking about coming up too, but there’s no room in the van. Could he catch a ride with you?”

  “Why not? It would be great to have the company.”

  Jake held his breath. “Wait. There’s something you need to know. Spencer’s dad, he’s, uh, he’s in a wheelchair.”

  “What does that matter? Ken Forbes uses a wheelchair, and during hockey season I pick him up every week to go watch the Junior B games. We can put it in the trunk, can’t we?”

  “That would be so awesome, Dad.”

  “So does this mean the race might be on after all? Jakester, that’s great!”

  “Dad, it’s the best thing ever!” Jake reached over and gave his dad a high five. They pulled up in front of the house.

  “Okay, why don’t you sort it out with Spencer and your coach right now? But make it quick or you’ll be late for school. See you after work, Jake. Hot dog!”

  Chapter Seven

  Jake’s fingers tingled as he punched in Spencer’s number. Would this plan work? It had to. He prayed Spencer was still home.

  “Hello?”

  “Spencer? It’s Jake. Listen. What if my dad picks up your dad and they drive up to Barry’s Bay together in his car?”

  Spencer was quiet. When he finally answered, his voice was low. “I thought you weren’t going to tell anyone what I said.”

  “This was all my dad’s idea. He wants to come see the race, but he doesn’t want to drive alone. Your dad would be doing him a big favor.”

  There was no response.

  “Spencer?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “Okay.” Jake was having a hard time being patient, but he knew he had to be.

  “Does he know…?”

  “He knows and says it’s no problem. There’s lots of room in the trunk for the chair.”

  “Can I call you right back?”

  Jake looked up at the clock. He had to get to school. “Sure. Take all the time you need.”

  It seemed like a century passed before the phone rang.

  “Jake?”

  Jake tried to make his voice sound normal. “Yeah?”

  “My dad will come with your dad. He said he’d like to talk to him tonight, to work out the details. Is that okay?”

  Jake couldn’t speak at first.

  “Jake?”

  “That’s better than good, Spencer. That’s great! See you tomorrow.”

  “Bright and early, I guess.”

  “Bright and early it is.”

  “And Jake?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks.”

  “No, thank you. You’re doing us a favor, remember? Tell your dad he can call tonight.”

  Jake did a crazy little happy dance across the kitchen. Then he ran to grab his backpack. He was on his way out the door when he remembered something. Coach! He scooped up the phone again.

  “Dave Driscoll.”

  “We’re on!”

  “Who…Jake, is that you?”

  “Everybody’s good to go, Coach. We’ll meet you at your house tomorrow morning as planned.”

  “But what…how…I thought Spencer couldn’t go.”

  “He worked it out.”

  “He did? But—”

  “And is it okay if my dad and Spencer’s dad come up too?”

  “Of course. The more, the merrier! But I don’t know if we can get another room on such short notice.”

  A room. Yikes, Jake hadn’t thought of that. Everything up there was probably booked. “There are two rooms booked for the team, right? Maybe our dads could have one of those? Us guys can all bunk together. Team spirit, you know.”

  “You sure?”

  “One hundred percent.” Jake hoped the guys wouldn’t mind.

  “Okay, I’ll throw some extra foam mats in the van. I’m so glad it worked out. This is great! Amazing. Hey. Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

  “On my way. See you in the morning!” They were going to Barry’s Bay. Problem solved.

  They left at 6:00 AM. Dave’s van was packed tighter than a can of Pillsbury dough. Sleeping bags, mats, duffel bags, running spikes, a first-aid kit, a cooler, the tent they stowed their gear in during a race, a case of water and a jumbo box of granola bars. On top of it all sat a box of donuts from their sponsor, Ben’s Bakery.

  Tall, lanky Shawn sat up front with Dave, his long, skinny legs stretched out in front of him. He pulled out his portable game device and took turns playing with Tony and Spencer, who sat in the seat behind him. Sam finished one Sudoku, then another. Jake read his latest running magazine. They had barely been on the road fifteen minutes when Simon fell fast asleep. As Simon gently snored behind him, Tony laughed. “Some assistant coach.”

  Dave smiled. “Let him sleep. He’s not on duty yet.”

  The boys started asking questions about the competition, and Dave said what he always said. “It will just be a bunch of guys out there doing their best. I know we can count on you fellows to do the same.”

  After a while Simon woke up, when Dave turned on the radio. “Make your party pop,” a perky voice told them, “with Perry’s perfect pizza. Dozens of locations to serve you.”

  “Can we stop for pizza?” asked Tony. “I’m starving.”

  “Why don’t you dig out the subs I packed?” asked Dave. “We need to keep going if we’re going to get up there in good time. But maybe we’ll do pizza tomorrow. We might even have a good reason for a party then, right, guys?” He looked at them in his rearview mirror and winked.

  “Pizza, pizza, pizza,” the boys chanted. “Party, party, party.”

  They threw up their hands and high-fived each other over and between the seats. Jake grinned as he settled back into his spot. He liked being with these guys. They were fun. And Spencer
was fitting in like an extra squeeze of filling in one of Ben’s donuts, making a good thing even better. Everything was awesome.

  Chapter Eight

  The team was an hour out of Barry’s Bay when they heard the Perry’s commercial for what seemed like the thousandth time. “Turn it off!” cried Tony. “I can’t take it anymore.”

  “Wait,” said Spencer. “Listen.” The radio announcer gave the weather forecast. He was calling for snow.

  “For real?” asked Shawn. “How close to the North Pole is this place?”

  Dave grinned. “Hope you packed your long johns like I told you.”

  All the boys flattened their faces against the windows to look at the clouds, but Jake saw the look on Spencer’s face. He knew he was worried. He scrambled to change the subject. “Anyone for a donut?”

  “Pass me one,” said Dave.

  Jake reached into the back and handed the box around.

  “Do you really think it will snow?” asked Spencer.

  “Nah,” Jake said.

  “I don’t know, man,” said Shawn. “Maybe it’ll be a blizzard. Maybe we’ll be snowed in for a week.”

  “No school? Awesome!” said Tony. “As long as there’s pizza.”

  Everyone laughed. Everyone except Spencer. Jake noticed he didn’t take a donut either.

  “Well, if it’s going to look like Christmas, it might as well sound like Christmas,” said Shawn. He started singing “Jingle Bells.” At the top of his voice. He was not a very good singer. Tony plugged his ears. Simon put his hat on and pulled it down low. Spencer looked ill, but Jake didn’t think it was because of the singing. He knew he had to steer the talk away from the weather.

  “Hey,” he called. “Would you rather listen to Shawn sing or play a game?”

  “Game!” said Sam. “And that one’s my favorite. I’ve got a good one. Would you rather be thrown into a pit full of snakes or one with spiders?”

  Shawn stopped singing. “Snakes!” He shivered. “I hate spiders.”

  “But spiders—” started Sam.

  “Don’t even talk about them!” insisted Shawn. “Would you rather surf wearing a parka or ski wearing your swim shorts?”

 

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