Darkness Before Dawn (6 page)

I slowed my pace a little and let the girls' team pass me as they thundered after the boys' team. They reminded me of long-legged Amazon warriors chasing their male captives. They ran easily, as if the brisk weather and the crispy leaves were created just for them.

I noticed Joyelle next. She was struggling a little,
breathing harder and running slower than the others, but you gotta give it to her—she didn't give up. I shouted a couple of good words to her as she ran: “You go, girl!” Joyelle looked up and smiled at me with appreciation. She didn't run with the ease of the older girls who were in better shape. She had eaten far too many hamburgers and french fries to run with any speed or consistency. But she refused to give up, and she told me not long ago that in just the few weeks she had been running with us, she felt better, and her jeans zipped up a lot easier.

Just behind the girls' team jogged Jonathan Hathaway. I didn't notice at first when he started running next to me. My mind was on the colors of the leaves and how Andy had loved to rake a big pile of leaves, then jump into them. Jonathan was dressed in a silk—yes, silk—University of Cincinnati track suit, and he ran easily in and among the girls, encouraging them, handing out water, jogging easily at the pace he set for them. I watched as they looked at him—kinda like puppies at a kennel. They'd do anything to please him. If he smiled and winked a golden eye at one of them, she ran harder, striving to please him. Not me, though. Basically, I tried to ignore him. I slowed down and let the group get far ahead of me. Jonathan glanced back at me, but said nothing. He ran on with the girls' team. I finally slowed my pace to a walk, taking slow, deep breaths.

“Keisha! What are you doing out here?” It was Rhonda and Tyrone, their shoes shuffling through the crunchy leaves, holding hands.

“I run with the cross-country team a couple of times a week, remember?” I replied, as I bent over to stretch my leg muscles.

“Oh, yeah, that's right. Girl, when I get with Tyrone, I forget everything!”

“That's 'cause I'm such a powerful, potent dude!” Tyrone boasted, flexing his muscles like a bodybuilder.

“You talking about body odor or personality?” I asked him, laughing. Tyrone pretended to be offended. “What are you two up to?”

“Just walkin' and talkin',” Rhonda said quietly. “'Bout college and stuff.” They fell into step with me as I walked back toward the parking area where the team bus was parked. Rhonda sighed. “You know, Keisha, in just a few months, me and Tyrone might be apart for years.”

“It's not like we're going to prison—we're going to college,” Tyrone reasoned. “Besides, there will be lots of vacations and breaks that we can be together. Tell her, Keisha.”

“I'm not gonna get in the middle of this,” I warned them, laughing.

“Do you think it's a good idea that me and Tyrone go to different colleges, Keisha?” Rhonda asked.

“I don't know. Probably. If your relationship is tight, it will last,” I said, kicking the leaves. “Doesn't much matter what I think anyway. You two have got to figure out that stuff for yourselves.”

“I got dreams, Rhonda,” Tyrone said, looking directly at her and ignoring me.

“Me, too, Tyrone,” Rhonda said quietly.

“Look, you two are crazy about each other. Don't sweat it!” I interrupted. “I gotta catch up with the team before the bus leaves me. Rhonda, call me tonight.”

I sped up and left them in the leaves. I felt uncomfortable trying to help them figure out something they had to deal with themselves, and it made me mad that I had nobody to worry about being separated from. I just sighed and ran on.

When I got back to the bus area, most of the team was circled around Rita Bronson and Coach Jonathan Hathaway. Trying to figure out what was going on, I wedged my way into the group. Rita, one of the strongest runners on the team, was crying, and her sweats were all dirty and covered with leaves. One arm was bleeding, her neck showed a recent cut, and she was fiery-hot with anger.

Jonathan was saying, “Rita, if you'd get to practice on time, you wouldn't get lost and get yourself all bruised from falling in the bushes.”

Rita's eyes were slits of knife blades. “I hope you choke on your own spit!” She pushed through the group and ran up the hill away from the bus.

“We'll discuss this later!” Jonathan yelled.

Rita tossed a couple of choice obscenities over her shoulder and continued to run toward the darkness of the woods.

“You come back here!” he shouted. She ignored him and ran faster, disappearing into the woods. Trying to save face and not look quite so blown away, Jonathan cleared
his throat and announced, “We'd better go find her.” He sent everyone out in groups of three, but Rita was nowhere to be found.

He took us all back to the school then, and filed a report about the “incident,” as he called it, including Rita's disappearance into the woods. He tried to call her home several times, but no one answered. The whole scene was pretty weird.

When I finally got home, I was really tired, and a little concerned about Rita. She and I had never been close, but I knew something more than being late to practice had led to Rita's anger and disappearance. Rita was a senior—a strong runner, but she had often been in trouble at school. She used to cut class, she cussed out a teacher once, and she'd fight if you looked at her sideways. She once had a boyfriend who was almost thirty. We heard she would sneak out of her house to see him until her mother found out and threatened to have the man arrested. But lately, Rita seemed to have been trying to turn things around. She loved running cross-country and had helped the team win several meets.

I took a long, hot shower and arranged myself on my bed to study with a sandwich, a can of iced tea, and my physics book. Rita's problems faded from my mind.

Just as I opened my book, the phone rang. It was Rhonda. “What you doin', girl?”

“Tryin' to study for this physics test. You and Tyrone got it together yet?”

“Hey, that's why I called. He is
sooo
sweet!”

“Like candy, huh?”

“I just want to eat him up! Let me tell you what happened after you left.”

“Spill it, girl.” I closed my book and smiled at the excitement in Rhonda's voice. I knew this was gonna be good.

“Well, first he tells me that I am his dream, that without me he has nothing!”

“I always wanted a dude to tell me that—and really mean it,” I told her.

“The air was smellin' good and the colors were all bright and I felt like I was in one of those movies where the music plays violins and stuff while the lovers walk through the forest.”

“Cool. So it's really love, Rhonda?” I asked her seriously.

“You know, I'm not sure if love is like they make it look in the movies; but if love is feeling happy and at peace when he's around, and excited when I watch him walk across a room, and weak when he kisses me, then I'm in love for sure.” She paused for a bit.

I asked her quietly, “So what happens now—that you're sure?”

Rhonda sighed. “I don't know, Keisha. I know I don't trust myself with him alone after dark. Because when I'm alone with him, I got no control. His kisses make me forget everything I ever believed in.”

“What about him?” I asked, even though I knew the answer.

“He feels the same way. Maybe stronger. He kissed me while I was leaning against a tree and it was like a whirlwind
began. My heart was pounding, my legs felt rubbery, and my entire body felt all squishy.”

“Then what happened?” I asked. I knew Rhonda was going to tell me every detail whether I wanted to hear it or not.

“I reached up and touched his lips. Girl, so soft and delicious, those lips of his! Goodness! Then he kissed me again, and asked me what I was thinking. I didn't ask him. I
knew
what was on
his
mind!” Rhonda laughed.

“So what did you tell him?”

“I said, ‘Tyrone, I want to tell you this in the daytime, while the sun is shining,' and he says, ‘Well you better hurry—it's getting dark. Then he unzips his jacket and pulls me closer to him and asks me real tender, ‘What's wrong, Rhonda?' It was all I could do not to melt into caramel candy right there in his arms.”

“Girl, this is heavy. Go on,” I said.

“Well, I took a deep breath and I told him, ‘Tyrone, I don't want to be like some of the girls at school—like most of them, actually. I don't want to have sex just to see what it's like, or to get pregnant because the dude makes pretty babies, or to keep a count of how many dudes I can sleep with before graduation.' I said it real fast so I wouldn't lose my nerve.”

“What did he say?”

“He told me he'd hate to think about me with anybody, except him.”

“Well, that's good, isn't it?” I asked.

“Yeah, but he had to understand. So I told him, ‘I know,
but it's you and me I'm talking about. You make me want you, Tyrone, but I want to wait. Do you understand?'”

“I know lots of dudes who drop a girl when they say that and mean it,” I told her. “What did Tyrone say?”

“He told me he loved me, Keisha! He says, ‘I love you, Rhonda. I'm not just saying that because that's what a dude says to a girl. I really do care about every fuzzy little hair on your head.'”

“He's got you there!” I laughed. Rhonda's hair had been hard to handle since first grade.

Rhonda continued, “So he says, ‘I don't want to do anything we're not ready for. What the dudes say about their women in the locker room is not where I want to be with you.' He told me he liked me long before he loved me, and because I was his friend as well as his girlfriend, he didn't want to do anything that would mess up our friendship. Is that amazing or what?”

“You got quite a dude there, Rhonda. Hang tight to that one!” I said with envy.

“Don't you worry!” Rhonda laughed with delight. “How was practice?” she asked.

“Interesting. Rob's little sister Joyelle is running with the team this year. She's not very fast, but she's got a lot of spunk, that kid. Rob would be proud of her.”

“You're right. She's doing her best to make it this year,” Rhonda said with admiration. “How's that fine young Hathaway doing as coach?”

“He's a good coach, I guess,” I said. “He takes a lot of time with the girls.”

“Yeah, I bet.” I knew Rhonda was making a face on the other end of the line. “The girls follow him like flies around dead meat.”

“Except for Rita Bronson,” I added, remembering.

“Strange you should mention her,” Rhonda said. “Me and Tyrone took her home tonight.”

“Really? She was really upset at practice, and never did get on the bus. What did she say to you and Tyrone?”

“Well, we were heading back to Tyrone's car, and we saw something move in the distance. It was Rita—huddled in the dirt and crying. Her right arm was bleeding a little. So I asked her how she hurt herself. She seemed to be glad to see me, but all she would tell me is that she fell in some bushes and cut herself.”

“I wonder what happened?”

“Maybe she's got home problems.”

“I can feel that,” I replied. “But she wouldn't say. I know she got yelled at by Coach Hathaway for being late to practice, and she was so angry that she tossed a couple of choice cuss words back in his face, telling him to stick his head where the sun don't shine!”

Rhonda hooted with delight. “Sweet! I bet that was worth hearing!”

“Then she just stormed off into the woods by herself. We couldn't find her after that. Jonathan and Leon looked for her for over an hour.”

“So now he's
Jonathan?”
Rhonda interrupted me, laughing with delight. It was too good to slip by her unnoticed.

“That's what he told me to call him—all of us,” I added
quickly. I didn't want her to get the wrong idea. Rhonda said nothing, but I knew she was smiling on the other end of the phone. “So what else happened when you and Tyrone found her?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

“Well, Tyrone asked her if she wanted us to find Coach Hathaway and she screamed
no!
like he had mentioned some serial killer,” Rhonda said. “Then she told us that she had quit the team and refused to go back on the bus with them.”

“I wonder what's going on,” I mused. “I know she hangs with some pretty rough dudes sometimes.”

“I don't know. She wouldn't talk about it,” Rhonda said quietly. “She had a cut on her neck and her arm—looked like more than scratches from bushes to me. Then she asked us to take her home. She didn't say nothing in the car, but she thanked us and told us she'd see us on Monday.”

“I wonder how much Coach Jonathan Hathaway knows about her situation. She seemed really angry at him—for more than just yelling at her about practice.”

Rhonda thought about Coach Hathaway for a moment. “Keisha,” she asked, “Jonathan is always dressed
so
fine! He's always walking around raggin' tough like he's got mass loot. Where do you think he gets the money? His dad?”

“I'm not sure,” I replied, “but you're right about his threads. Hey, I gotta go. I'm gonna be too sleepy to study for this test.” I hung up then, and wondered about the evening's events as I finished my homework.

Rita never came back to school. At first the story was that she was sick, then everyone figured she was just skipping school, or maybe had moved. School officials couldn't find her—letters to her mother came back unopened, the phone was disconnected, and no one answered at the door of the last address anyone had for her. Gradually she moved out of almost everyone's memory.

Angel was as thin
as the sleet that fell most of November. I noticed at school how Angel was getting, but I barely had time to think about it. I was busy with a part-time job at the mall, mass homework, meeting with the other class officers to plan for senior stuff, and trying to figure out all the college material that came in the mail. One Saturday afternoon I ran into Gerald and Angel at the mall. Gerald said he was on his way with Angel to take her to dance class and they were headed to the food court to get a bite to eat.