Wing Jones(23)

I’m suddenly, so suddenly I don’t even remember getting here, back at the school track.

It’s eerie at night. The only sound is the scream of the cicadas and the occasional car going by. I don’t know if I’m allowed to be here… It sure as hell isn’t safe. This thought occurs to me with a sharp clarity, but it’s overridden by what my feet and legs want to do. Then I’m on the track, and it’s like I’m asleep again. I shut my brain down and let my body do what it wants, and what it wants to do is run.

My feet start slowly at first, one step, then another, one foot in front of the other, and it isn’t like it is in my dreams, it takes effort, and this is how I know I must be awake, that I really am down on the track in the middle of the night. And with my dragon on one side and my lioness on the other, I stretch my legs out, and as my feet hit the track, heel-toe, heel-toe, the wind is in my face, just like in my dreams, and my dragon takes off, flying low above my head, just out of reach, and my lioness is going faster, daring me to go faster. I can, I know I can, and the feeling takes over, and I’m vaguely aware of the sound of my feet hitting the dirt track, of the jolt that goes up my body every time my feet connect with the ground, and then I’m going faster, faster. My legs know what to do. I’m going so fast I’m sure I’ll spin out of control. My body won’t be able to keep up with my feet. I’m going so fast I’ve got vertigo, the way I used to when I ran downhill as a kid, but no, I’m going faster than that. It’s like I’m biking down a hill. Gravity is taking over, but the track is flat and it isn’t gravity, it’s me, it’s me, I’m pulling and pushing myself at the same time, I’m the force. I don’t think I’ve run like this since I was little. I don’t think I’ve ever run like this. And all I want is to go faster.

Faster.

Round and round and round the track, my thoughts flying as fast as my feet, the night air slapping me in the face with every turn, and I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve gone round and I sense some sort of invisible barrier in front of me but I’m sick of barriers and I’m going to break through this. Drawing on something inside, I find that I can push harder and I feel myself tearing through that barrier. It shatters all around me, and I come through it and it’s like I’ve entered some new realm of sheer bliss because if I thought I was flying before I am soaring now.

I feel like I could go for ever, but at some point the stars have dimmed and the sky has gone from black to purple to pink and I don’t want to get caught down here. I don’t want anyone to see me. And now that I’ve stopped running, it all catches up to me. My limbs are trembling all over and I can barely stand and my throat is parched and I don’t know why I didn’t bring water. Probably because I never meant to be out here, running alone.

My dragon and my lioness are nowhere to be seen. They’ve disappeared somewhere I can’t follow. I collapse on the grass next to the track and let my body slow down, one part at a time. My lungs expand, my heart thumps, my feet ache. I’m more aware of my body than I’ve ever been. I lie there, staring at the lightening sky, and all the thoughts I left behind when I was running come rushing in, now that I’m still. And one thought is the loudest.

Marcus.

I haven’t thought about Marcus all night. The realization is like a punch in the stomach, but at the same time I’m grateful. I feel lighter.

I have to run again.





CHAPTER 13


The next day I tell my mom I’m still not feeling well and sleep all day. I get up to have some broth Granny Dee makes me for lunch, and then some soup LaoLao makes for dinner, each of them sure that their soup is going to be what makes me better. They don’t know that the only thing that’s going to make me better is to run again. I’m scared my dragon won’t wake me up again, so I set an alarm for three a.m.

I shouldn’t have worried. Exactly three minutes before my alarm goes off, my lioness nips at my ear. And my dragon is already waiting. I can see her shadow outside my window.

I jog down quiet tree-lined streets, avoiding the ones I know are notorious for trouble. I stay off the main roads too but hear the occasional squeal of tires in the distance. I’m glad I’m not alone, that my dragon and my lioness are with me. It makes me feel safe. I’m more awake tonight, so I’m more aware. I imagine what my mom will do if she finds my empty bed, and I shove the thought away. She’s got enough to worry about. She won’t think to check on me. Why would I be anywhere but in my bed? I’ve never snuck out before. She has no reason to think I’m sneaking out now.

There are no clouds tonight, and the moon shines bright, watching me. I don’t mind. The moon can watch all it wants, but I don’t want anyone else to see me.

I don’t know how I was able to run like I did last night. The last time I was on a track was in eighth-grade gym class with April. April wasn’t much of a runner, so I matched my pace to hers. I remember the gym teacher, Mrs. Turrick, saying she thought I’d be more of an athlete like Marcus. I shrugged and said Marcus was the athlete. Because he was. He is.

As I turn onto the track, I slow down. I should stretch. I try to touch my toes, and I can’t, and even this simple failure makes me glad there’s no one but the moon, my lioness, and my dragon with me. April’s mom made us do a yoga video once, and I’ve never felt so awkward. And that’s saying something. April and her mom both laughed at me, they couldn’t help it, so I must have looked as awkward as I felt.