Ghost (12 page)

“That's so sad,” Patty said, reaching across the table for Sunny's hand. “I'm so sorry.”

“Nah, it's okay. It's the reason I run. Well, I didn't really have a choice. My father made me. See, he did everything right. Got good grades, went to college, became a big-time businessman, and found the perfect wife. They had the big house, and the nice cars, but my mother wasn't into any of that stuff. At least this is what my father says. He says that even though he gave her everything, she wanted to accomplish her own goals. And the biggest one was, she wanted to win a marathon.”

“That's it? She wanted to run a marathon?” Lu asked with a full mouth.

“No. She ran a lot of them. She wanted to
win
one,” Sunny clarified. “And she was planning to rev up her training after the pregnancy. But she died. So my father made me run. He felt like I owed it to her. I hated it at first, but I didn't have a choice. But now because I've been running for so long, I don't even think about it anymore and kinda feel like I can somehow connect to her this way.”

“So your daddy used to run you?” I asked.

“Pretty much.”

“But was it to punish you?” I darted my eyes from Sunny to Coach, who sat listening closely.

Sunny's face started to pale. “I guess.”

“But ain't that child ab—”

“Ghost,” Patty cut me off, still holding Sunny's hand.

“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that,” I backed off. “I was just saying, you know there's someone else at this table who might be guilty of doing the same thing. Running kids for punishment.” I gave Coach a dramatic glare and everybody laughed, lightening the mood.

“Hey.” Patty focused back on Sunny. She let go of his hand and readjusted herself in the booth. “I totally understand. I mean, I get it. Not the punishment part, but the part about your mom. My secret is sorta like that too.”

Sliding Sunny's utensils over to him, Coach nodded but didn't say nothing. He just listened and doled out the eating tools. He put another set in his right hand. Those were going to be Patty's.

“Really?” Sunny said encouragingly.

“Yeah. I'm adopted, as all y'all already know,” Patty continued. “But I'm not like most adopted kids. Most don't know their folks. But I know my mom.”

“You do?” Lu asked, with a mouth full of rice this time. He looked so surprised, like he should've known this about Patty since they had been friends for so many years.

“Yep. Me and my little sister, Maddy, go see her all the time,” Patty said. “She's cool.”

“So why she give you up then?” Lu said stupidly.

“Lu!” Coach snapped. Lu stopped chewing. Coach pointed at me and Lu—why was he pointing at me!—and said, “Thing One and Thing Two, what y'all do before I picked y'all up? Study the world's most inappropriate questions?”

“No, it's okay, Coach,” Patty said. “It's actually a good question.” She rested her hands on the table. “She actually gave us up because she doesn't have legs. They had to get cut off because she got the sugar.” Patty paused to make sure we knew what she meant by the sugar. I guess our faces made it clear that we didn't, because she continued, “Diabetes.”

“But who takes care of her?” I asked.

“She takes care of herself, mainly. But she couldn't take care of us, y'know,” Patty explained, now fingering the corners of her eyes.

“So you run . . . for her,” Sunny said, now understanding how Patty could somehow relate to his story.

“Yeah.” Patty swallowed. “I run for her.”

Coach handed Patty her silverware. “That leaves you, Ghost,” he said. And let me tell you, I still wasn't sure what my secret was going to be, but I definitely
knew I had to think of it quick, because my duck was getting cold, and cold duck didn't sound too good. At first I was going to tell them about the shoes. That I stole them. But then I figured Coach would not be okay with that, and even though he said we were telling secrets that we all were going to keep, I had learned a long time ago that adults play by different rules. So that was out. But I only had one other real secret. And I didn't know if it was okay to tell, especially over Chinese food. But I couldn't make up a good lie, despite the good job I had been doing lying over the past few days. I just didn't want them to look at me different or give anybody anything to pick on me about. I mean, I technically was still getting to know them, but I didn't
know
them know them yet. I didn't
know
know anybody besides my family. I never even told Red and Dre stuff like this. Matter fact, I hadn't even mentioned to them that I was on a track team, just because I didn't wanna have to go through the whole,
You? You on a track team?

But then I looked around the table. Everybody had told such personal stories about their families, so maybe my family story wouldn't be so bad after all. Plus, um, my duck . . . it was getting cold. So . . .

“My dad's in jail for trying to shoot me and my
mother,” I blurted. And before anyone could say anything, I held my hand out for my utensils.

Lu dropped his fork.

Patty dropped her knife.

Sunny stopped drinking.

Coach's mouth hung open as he pressed everything into my hand.

And I felt . . . good. Different. Like, even though they were all stunned by what I said, I felt like they could see me. Like we were all running the same race at the same speed. But I was also feeling pretty hungry.

“Thanks,” I said, taking my fork and stabbing the duck with it. I twisted meat off the bone and stuffed it in my mouth like nothing was wrong. Like I hadn't just dropped the atomic bomb of secrets. But I didn't really want to make a big deal of it. I just wanted to say it and eat.

“So what about you, Coach?” I asked through my chewing of the best food I had ever had. Ever. Duck. Who knew? Charlotte Lee could collect all the rubber ones she wanted. I was gonna set the record for eating the most real ones. I mean, it's basically like the world's greatest chicken or something.

Everybody else had started back digging in their
plates, even though now things were definitely a little awkward. Just a little.

“Uh, what about me?” Coach replied at last.

“Well, what's your secret?” I asked, pointing the fork at him.

“No, no, no, this is about y'all. Not me.”

“Come on, Coach,” said Patty. “Don't be like that.”

“Yeah, I thought coaches were supposed to set an example,” said Lu.

“Watch it,” Coach snipped, but jokingly.

“No offense, Coach,” Sunny said. “But Lu's right.”

“And Lu's never right!” Patty teased, reaching over and snatching Coach's chopsticks and fork.

Coach shook his head. “I can't believe this. You dirty little rats. But I like the fact that y'all are ganging up on me. That means my plan is working.” He put his hands together like an evil villain. “You're bonding.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Patty scoffed. “Just get to the secret, or kiss your noodles good-bye.”

Coach sniggered. “Okay, okay,” he started. “Well, it's true, Lu. I did run in the Olympics. And I won a gold medal.” Coach looked pointedly at each of us, one by one. “Okay? So, there,” he said, snatching his fork and chopsticks back from Patty.

And the conversation for the rest of the night was
pretty much all about the Olympics. Coach didn't really say too much more about it. It was mainly just us talking about what it must've been like and all that. But I was glad that we were off my secret—it was like I had never even said anything about what happened with my dad, even though I did. I did. And it seemed like everybody at the table cared and didn't care at the same time. And that made me feel, for the first time, like I was one of them. They even asked me if I needed to borrow some practice gear, which I thought was nice, but I told them I was cool. That my mother was going to get me some soon, even though I hadn't even asked for none yet. Plus, I kinda wanted my first jersey and shorts to be the ones I ran my first race in. Which, I hadn't really even thought about until just then. But I appreciated them offering to look out for me. Not many people do that. I could add them to the list of my mother, Mr. Charles, and, well, Coach. And it felt good to feel like one of the teammates. Like I was there—really, really there—as me, but without as much scream inside.

ONE TIME IN
gym class we had to do this thing for warm-up where Mr. Perham made us form two lines, facing each other. Everybody had to reach out and hold the hands of the person standing in front of them. For me, that person was, of course, stupid Brandon Simmons. His hands felt slimy, as if he had just blown his nose into his palms, which he probably did just to be a jerk. After we all were holding hands, Mr. Perham stood in the front of the line with his back to us.

“This is called a trust fall,” he said. “I'm gonna let myself fall backward, and I'm trusting you all are going to catch me.”

“Like stage diving?” Greg Dodson said.

Mr. Perham turned around. “Pretty much.”

For someone about to be all trusting, he looked kinda worried. Shoot, I was worried for him. I mean, I wouldn't trust somebody like Brandon to catch nobody other than himself or Monique. But Perham turned back around, took a deep breath, and leaned back.

That's basically what the whole “you gotta tell a secret to eat” thing Coach pulled on us was all about. It was like a trust fall with words. A warm-up to being Defenders. By the end of the dinner, it seemed like we were all connected in some strange way that none of us had imagined, and it stayed that way as we came to practice on Monday.

“Awwww,” Aaron teased, as me, Lu, Patty, and Sunny hung around talking to each other before the stretch. Coach and Whit were on the side of the track, having an extra-long conversation with Chris Myers's father. “Look at the newbies. All of a sudden y'all besties, huh? Let me guess, Patty told y'all a secret about how she got a crush on Curron.” Curron grinned as the other players laughed.

“Ain't nobody got a crush on Curron!” Patty replied.

“Dang, Curron. You heard that?” Freddy chimed in, yanking the drawstring on his shorts.

“Yeah, I heard her. What's wrong with me, Patty?”
Curron asked, fighting back his embarrassment.

“Sorry, Curron,” Patty started. “But I don't like boys who jump the gun.”

Everybody laughed and Krystal Speed gave Patty a five, then fired off a few finger guns at Curron.
“Pyewn! Pyewn!”

“What
you
laughing at, Krystal
No
Speed? When's the last time you won a race?” Curron fired back.

“The last time I seen your mama,” Krystal said. “Ain't never ran so fast, 'cause I ain't never seen something so
ugggly
.”

“Hey, hey, no need to bring anybody's mom into this,” Sunny chimed in, struggling to get his voice to cut through the
ooh
s.

“Oh yeah?” Curron was now feeling big. Being laughed at was getting the best of him. “How 'bout we talk about
yours
, newbie?”

“That's enough, Curron.” Aaron, who started this whole mess, finally decided to step in and fix it. But it was too late.

“Nah, let's talk about Sunny's mother,” Curron insisted, now sizing Sunny up. We all knew he was just joking and that whatever zing he was gonna attempt was just gonna be silly, but still, this was Sunny. His mother wasn't even alive, and I knew that. And to me,
that fact made those jokes off-limits. I also knew Sunny wasn't the kinda guy to stand up for himself. So I did.

“Let's not.” I stepped in front of Sunny and looked cold into Curron's eyes.

Curron faced me, trying to hold his square, but I could tell instantly that he didn't want what I had for him. “Y'all see this kid?” he said, turning around to the other vets. Patty and Aaron came up alongside me, joining me in protecting our friend.

“Yeah, we see him, and since you a cupcake, we suggest you leave him alone,” Aaron said, shutting Curron down.

Then a hand clap. Slow. One. Then another. Then another. Coach was standing with Whit, clapping. “That was fantastic,” he said. “Wasn't it, Whit?”

“I thought so,” Whit replied, folding her arms across her chest.

“So many tough guys and girls on this team—” Coach stopped himself. “Wait, did I just call y'all a . . .
team
?” He started toward us. “That's what this is, right?
Right?
”

“Yes, Coach,” Aaron said, instantly slipping back into his role as Coach's pet.

“Oh, so only Aaron knows we're a team?”

“We're a team, Coach.”

“Yeah, Coach. We're a team.”

“We're a team.”

“So then act like it. You understand me? Each and every one of you.” He waved a finger past each of our faces. “Act like it! Matter fact, learn from the newbies. Defend each other. They ain't your opponents. They're your new family. And as y'all can see, they mean business.” I looked at Patty, Lu, and Sunny and tried hard to totally cheese. Then I looked at Curron and nodded as Coach commanded, “Now let's stretch it out. Toe touches. Everybody down.”

After stretching and warm-up, the sprinters spent the rest of the practice doing fartleks, which sounds like fart licks. Funniest name ever. Fart . . . lick. HA! But it has nothing to do with licking farts. It just means you run three minutes at 80 percent speed, and one minute full-out. Sounds easy, right? Try doing ten of them. It's harder than it sounds. Way harder. Trust me.

On the first few I was able to keep pace with Lu, Mikey, and Aaron, and on the fourth, I decided to prove a point and turned the jets on. We hit the final stretch, the last hundred meters, which was when we were supposed to run full-out, and I must've channeled my inner Usain and bolted to the end.