From Ant to Eagle(13)

Finally, I broke the silence. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to see the school and that Sammy kind of ruined our bike ride and that you… well…that you were feeling sad or whatever. I guess this whole day turned out to be a trainwreck.”

“No,” Aleta said, shaking her head, “it was fun.”

“Fun?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t been out in a while. It was nice.”

“Then maybe we could hang out again? We could go for a run or something—you said you liked cross-country. I’m not sure if you noticed but there happens to be a lot of country to cross out here.”

I gestured toward the fields around us, and Aleta smiled.

“Sure, we could go for a run.”

A part of me had hoped she’d say no and suggest something else. I only suggested the running idea because she’d said she liked cross-country. When we’d done cross-country at school in London, I’d hated it. I was not a long distance runner by any means but if it meant I’d get to spend more time with Aleta—I could suck it up.

I made Aleta repeat her phone number a few times, memorized it, and promised I’d call her soon to figure out a plan. As I turned to ride home Aleta said, “Tell Sammy I hope he’s feeling better.”

And that’s when I realized I’d completely forgotten about my brother.





CHAPTER 9

WHEN I GOT HOME, MOM SAID THAT SAMMY STILL WASN’T FEEling well and had already gone to bed. Later that night when I climbed into my top bunk, I could tell he was awake. I could always tell when he was awake by his breathing.

After a few minutes I heard his voice from below.

“Cal? Are you awake?”

“Yeah,” I said.

I waited for him to say something but he didn’t. Instead the room went back to silence and I realized he hadn’t wanted to talk, only to check if I was awake.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

I felt him shift again in his bunk.

“Hot,” he replied.

The room was a little warm—it was summer and we didn’t have air conditioning—but it wasn’t much hotter than usual.

“Want me to grab you the fan?” I asked.

“No, I’m okay.”

I closed my eyes and tried to fall asleep again. I’d put the quilt back over the window so it was pitch black. I was nearly asleep when Sammy’s voice woke me again.

“Cal, do you think Elligators live in the river?”

“Sammy, I was almost asleep,” I groaned. The room went quiet and I could tell Sammy thought I was mad. “What river?” I mumbled.

“The one by the house.”

“You mean the creek in the woods?”

“Yeah.”

Normally I would’ve said yes. I liked teasing Sammy. It was so easy because he believed everything I said but he’d had a rough day and I was feeling nice. “Nah, I’m pretty sure they only live in Africa.”

“Oh.” He sounded disappointed rather than reassured.

I smiled.

To Sammy, alligators were made of soft plush and were cuddly. There was so much he didn’t know. During the day all his questions annoyed me—like I was supposed to be some sort of grade one teacher—but at night, when we’d lay awake talking, I didn’t mind so much. I kind of liked that he was still a baby. I kind of liked that he didn’t know anything.

“Night, Sammy,” I said, rolling over and facing the wall.

“Night, Cal.”

IT WAS THURSDAY morning and the house was empty. Dad had left for London to meet with someone from work and Mom had taken Sammy to the doctor. After two days of barely getting out of bed, headaches and a thermometer that said fever, Mom was suspicious that Sammy had the flu. I’d have been dragged along for the trip had it not been the morning I’d planned to meet Aleta for our run. I’d argued and argued until Mom had given in and said I could stay.

T-shirt, shorts, basketball shoes—I was ready for what I thought would be an easy jog. Over a brief phone call earlier that morning, Aleta and I had decided to run toward each other’s houses through the corn fields. We figured we’d eventually cross paths and spot each other but after fifteen minutes of sluggish jogging, I realized it might not be so easy. The corn was waist-high and the fields were infinite. Visions of dying from heat exhaustion in some remote field began to cross my mind when I finally spotted Aleta a few fields over in a bright orange shirt.

As she approached, she looked light and fresh—like she’d only just started running. It was the exact opposite of how I felt but I put on a smile and tried to look as perky as she did.

“Not a bad day for a run,” I said, jogging up to her and trying not to gasp for air.

Aleta’s hair was tied back with an orange headband that matched her shirt and she was wearing black shorts and white running shoes. To this day I have no idea how they managed to stay so white.

We briefly stood side-by-side looking around, surveying the land, picking a path. Really, it didn’t matter, it was all the same—corn to the left, corn to the right. If we were lucky we might get to run past a field of soy. Whoopee!

“Which way?” she asked.

“You lead. I’ll follow.”

Aleta took off in the opposite direction of our houses, charting an indeterminate course between the fields. I followed closely behind secretly wishing we could slow the pace. If the run had been a game of who could accidentally step in the most mud puddles and boggy spots, I would have won, and soon my heavy basketball shoes grew even heavier. The sun seemed to grow hotter with every passing minute and the tall grass cut at my calves. As the houses shrunk further and further behind us, I thought about how we would have to run further and further back. I desperately didn’t want to be the one to call it quits but after what felt like hours (though, quite possibly was only ten minutes) I was ready to throw in the towel. I’d had enough. If I kept going I would pass out just like Sammy had and that—I told myself—was way more embarrassing than asking for a break.