Double Time
Chapter 65
“Brahman and I are buddies.”
—Stephen Beam, Galaxy Riff
LIVY WASN’T UP TO RUNNING Sunday morning, so I called Nanette and she said I could come with her. She reminded me to bring water because it would be a long run. I grabbed a bottle and a couple of energy bars and went out to hop in her car when she pulled up at seven. Even Nanette sleeps in on Sunday.
“Congratulations on the run yesterday,” she said by way of greeting. “I’m surprised you are placing so high with a seven-minute mile but I’m glad you are running and healthy.”
“Jock warned me that would probably be the last time I place this year. When we move to sectionals, we pick up some other runners who haven’t always been on our team. The football backfield and ends will do time trials this week and so will the soccer guys. Some of them are well under a six-minute mile in the 5k. I guess a lot of other schools are like that. Livy will face some new challengers from volleyball as well. I don’t think any will touch her in the race, though.”
“We’re going to take a long run today. I’ll show you the cutoff where you can head back and I’ll give you the car keys so you don’t have to sit around on the ground. I’m running at swing tempo for fifteen miles. There are no convenient fields to run through for this, so we run on country roads. We’ll start at Glacier Creek on County Line Road and head north. Not everyone is running a big run today, so you’ll probably have running companions most of the way.”
“Everyone?”
“It’s a club run. Could be ten people, could be twenty. Depends on who got out of bed this morning.”
Allen County is shaped by Fort Wayne. There are some county roads that more or less follow the grid system, but the main highways approach more like a spiderweb. Highways 30, 33, 27, 69, 469, and two rivers interrupt any grid pattern. Just a few miles west of where we live, Whitley County is laid out on a perfect Jeffersonian grid. Each township is thirty-six sections with county roads running north/south and east/west at one mile intervals. As a result, you can ‘run around the block’ and go exactly four miles. I figured I could do six miles by going west two miles, north a mile, east two miles, and back south a mile. I’d probably be done in an hour or so. I was glad I packed my Kindle in my bag. I’d catch up on some reading.
A dozen runners set out at an easy pace. It was clear which ones were just having a pleasant Sunday jog and which were seriously training for a run. In fifteen minutes, the people training were pretty much out of sight on the long straight road ahead. Four women were chatting as they ran and I kept pace with them. They didn’t seem to mind but I wasn’t included in their conversation. They turned north after the first mile, apparently making just a four-mile run. There were a couple runners still ahead of me who were doing longer runs but I didn’t feel like I wanted to push my pace enough to catch up, so I ran alone.
I just relaxed into my pace and let my mind wander as my feet beat out the rhythm. Life was weird. V1 had a hard time with my running routine. I’d been fit enough in high school but no great athlete. By the time I was out of college, I was soft. I was active in that I had a wife and a baby not long thereafter. I had a house to maintain, children to play with, a dog to walk. I’d developed quite a paunch by the time Rebecca got sick. I lost a lot of weight after she died, but it wasn’t through exercise. Smoking and depression cut my appetite. I became a skinny guy with a pot belly.
Renie was good for me. She didn’t try to reform me, but I started eating more healthily. I was back to walking regularly and I cut the cigarettes completely. I still enjoyed my evening cigar but only outdoors. Instead of becoming morbidly obese, I’d just been a bit overweight.
All this exercise V3 did was strange. I ran almost every day. I was a little worried about what would happen after the last cross country meet next week. Will I still manage to run as much and stay in shape without the team practices? I wondered if Livy would still want to run on the weekend when she had basketball practice during the week. And would Nanette and I continue our early morning runs when there was snow on the ground?
The important thing was that I felt good and felt good about myself. I had an occasional twinge in my right leg when the weather changed but I considered myself fully recovered from the accident. Jock had done measurements of all athletes this fall and pronounced my right leg to have the same circumference as my left. My arms were balanced, too.
Where am I? I didn’t recognize any of the scenery. There was just a long tarmac road with a stripe down the middle. I hadn’t seen anyone since a family drove past, apparently on their way to church. The next intersection I came to said I was at the intersection of County Road 700 S and County road 700 E. If I remembered correctly, the County Line was 800 E. It looked like I was going the right direction, so I just kept running. A mile later I turned south and in half an hour was back at the car. I didn’t see anyone else around so started stretching and cooling down.
If asked, I couldn’t have told you one thing I passed on my run. I was totally zoned out. I didn’t even remember what I was thinking about most of the time. I looked at my phone and saw that I’d been out for two solid hours. I downed a full bottle of water and found a tree where I could pee. What the fuck? How far did I run? I really needed to get one of those runner’s watches that kept track. I called up a map and tried to recreate what I’d run. I remembered where the women I’d started with turned off. And passing a corner just after I’d lost sight of the couple who were running ahead of me. I was sure I’d turned on the next road. But 700 was two miles north of there. I tabulated it up and realized I’d run ten miles in two hours. Ten twelve-minute miles.
I sat in the front seat of Nanette’s car and reached for my Kindle before spotting a book shoved between the seats. Zen and the Art of Running. I leafed through the book and found that running and meditation were closely linked by this author. Apparently, that was what I’d been doing.
“Been waiting long?” Nanette asked as she jogged up to the car. I glanced at the time on my phone.
“No. About twenty minutes is all. Did you cut your run short?”
“Are you kidding? I felt good out there so I did a couple of extra miles. You ran for two hours?”
“Best I can figure, I did ten miles.”
“Good for you. You can’t run that long without clearing your head of the mundane. You must have the answer to life, the universe, and everything.”
“Forty-two,” I answered automatically. Nanette laughed.
“I was sure that was a reference that was too old for you. Help me stretch a little and I’ll get you back home. I see you found my book on meditation,” she said.
She put her hands on my shoulders and we leaned into each other to stretch our legs. We balanced each other as we did calf, quad, and psoas stretches. I’d done most of my ground stretches so worked on holding Nanette’s stretches for lower back and glutes. That was the position we’d been in when we accidentally fell together a few weeks ago. I couldn’t help but grin a little as I remembered.
“I can see what you are thinking, young man,” she said with an eyebrow cocked. “The first time is an accident. The second time is an on purpose.” I looked at my strong lean running mate, suddenly aware of the way my hands were on her thighs pushing forward. She was looking intently at me—challenging me. I think forty must be the most attractive age in a woman’s life. There was maturity and a hint of mischief in her eyes.
I gave a little push to the sides and her thighs parted. I fell into the gap, almost seriously losing my balance and falling on her. I caught myself in time to simply press my chest against hers as I brought my lips up to kiss her. Nanette didn’t resist the urge. Our mouths melded together and our tongues played. A little thrust of her hips met my growing erection where it touched her crotch. We just enjoyed the moment and all too soon, it was gone.
I pushed myself back and offered her a hand to get up. We self-consciously brushed leaves off ourselves and turned to the car. I was worried as we buckled in and she started the car. She’d just put it in gear when I couldn’t take the silence any longer.
“Nanette…”
“Shh,” she hushed me. She turned and placed a finger on my lips. “Don’t spoil it. Meditate on it.” She tossed the Zen book into my lap and then drove me home.
Once I was home and in the shower, I meditated on it some more. Twice.
I was in a strange mood. I made lunch for Mom, Dad, and Pey and sent Mom a text to not go out after church because I made food. I got a surprise emoticon back from her. It wasn’t elaborate. I made a salad and then doctored up some commercial pasta sauce with vegetables and Italian sausage. I got the water boiling so when they got home from church, all I had to do was toss the spaghetti into the kettle to cook. They were very appreciative of the meal and I felt good about sitting with my family. It was still sad to see Emily’s empty chair, but Pey was ready to talk about anything and everything that popped into her little head.
We cleaned up the kitchen together and then sat at the table to do our remaining homework. I’m not sure I comprehended what kind of homework a fourth grader has, but she was determined to sit at the table as long as I did. When I was finished with my Trig, I closed my books and Pey closed hers with a big sigh. She took me by the hand and led me to my bedroom where she carefully handed me my guitar. I leaned against the head of the bed with pillows behind my back and started to strum. Pey crawled up beside me and leaned against me while I played. I got lost in the music, no more paying attention to what I played than I had paid attention to my running earlier. I glanced down and realized Pey was sound asleep. I thought it looked like a good idea and soon let my eyes drift closed as well.
“Aren’t you two sweet,” Rachel whispered, leaning across Pey to kiss me on the forehead. “Are you too sleepy to come dance?”
“No. I’m ready,” I said. “We just were playing some music.”
“Can I come and dance, too?” Pey yawned.
“Why not?” Rache said. “Brittany’s little sisters will be there. I bet I could even get Richard to tag along.”
“Yeah. He’s got a big crush on Joyce. And we can’t all dance with J.”
We got ready quickly and Rachel picked up Richard before we headed to Brittany’s house. We were all on our best behavior with the kids all there. When she found out about Richard and Pey, Livy brought Donnie and Barb, her younger sibs. Pey was delighted that Donnie came and I noticed the younger two were picking up the dance steps quickly. That left Barb and Joyce to share Richard as Lisa was torn between wanting to dance with the younger kids and wanting to dance with the teens. We just tried to include everyone.
Our kisses at the end of the afternoon dance date at Brittany’s house were slightly less exuberant than we liked, but there were lots of hugs and we knew we’d all see each other tomorrow.
“Jacob, can you come by to visit at lunch on Wednesday?” Ms. Levy asked after class Monday morning.
“Certainly, Ms. Levy. I’ll be here.”
“Date with your girlfriend?” Brittany teased.
“Yeah. You know we can only steal moments together. A twenty-minute lunch. Hidden glances. It’s an ill-fated affair,” I teased back.
“Goofball. I’ll see you at lunch.” She kissed me on the cheek and I turned left to join Rachel for Trig.
I was nervous when I walked into Ms. Levy’s classroom Wednesday with my bag lunch and a soft drink. There was no reason to be embarrassed. It wasn’t like I’d given her another of my attempts at erotica. I just felt… exposed.
“Jacob. Pull up your chair and let’s talk about your latest work.”
“Thanks, Ms. Levy. And thank you for continuing to help me with my writing.”
“I have to start out by asking you, did you write this?” she said. What the fuck? What was she getting at?
“Yes,” I said a little strongly.
“I’m not doubting you,” she said. “It’s just that this is so different than other things of yours I’ve read—either your creative writing or your classwork. This is… It’s not just good, Jacob. It’s head and shoulders above anything of yours I’ve read. I was moved. To tears. I’ve read it so often I’ve nearly memorized it. And I am just so proud of you.” Ms. Levy shocked the hell out of me when she reached out her hand and stroked my cheek. She touched me!
“Um… uh… thank you,” I managed to get out.
“Jacob, I knew you had been seriously injured last fall. But this goes beyond that incident. You died. And this, all… Is this what really happened?”
“Mostly. I tried not to deal with the direct events. Of either time.”
“Either time?”
“I’ve died more than once,” I sighed. “I just needed to get this out of my system and on paper to deal with what happened.”
“It’s raw and emotional. It is tender and calming. I would like to publish it in our annual student literary journal. Jacob, I cry when I think about this.” She showed evidence with a tear that collected in the corner of her eye and ran down her cheek. I snatched a tissue from the box on her desk and gently dabbed at the moisture. It was just a spontaneous motion and I didn’t think about what I was doing. But I softly caressed her cheek.
“You’d better go. I made some notes and minor spelling corrections. Please let me know when you have something more for me to read.”
I stood and picked up the folder.
“Thank you,” I whispered and left for my sixth period Music Theory class.
26 September 2019
I need to figure out what I did. I know the result of what I did. I made a connection between me as an author and Ms. Levy as a reader. For a few minutes, we were emotionally connected. She touched my cheek and I dried her tears. How did I make that connection?
I told Rebeca and Rachel about my experience as a child—the root of my nightmares. But I didn’t tell them about the story I’d written. I started it back in early August, a few weeks after Emily left for Service. For no longer than it was, I’d worked on it for weeks. It bore little resemblance to the strictly factual account I wrote at first. I’d changed details, increased the drama and tension a little. But in the last analysis, the story wasn’t about getting buried or resuscitated. I titled it simply, ‘My Angel’s Hands’. I wrote about the care and love that overwhelmed me when I realized what my sister had done.
Was it just the story itself? Was it the way I wrote it? The vocabulary? Or did I manage, somehow to find a magic that I didn’t understand but used like the Sorcerer’s Apprentice?
I asked Beca to read it last night while we were studying. It isn’t very long so she sat and read at the table. Tears. She wrapped her arms around me and cried against my chest. Still, Beca and Ms. Levy both know me and have a bit of a vested interest in me. I need to find an independent reader to look at this. I need to know if I could make that connection with someone who doesn’t know me. I wonder who.
Our final race of the regular season was an hour north on I-69. The Pokagon Challenge was a high school race that was not sponsored by any individual high school. It was sponsored by the State Park and before the high school boys’ and girls’ 5ks would be run, an open 10k and 5k would also be run. Several of the lower ranked runners on our team weren’t bothering to make the trip or were only making it to cheer on teammates. I was undecided about running against the elite runners who showed up for this challenge. Most of our meets had been across fairly flat or slightly rolling hills. Pokagon had some serious climbs. And when it came down to it, I wasn’t going to be running in the sectional anyway. There was no reason for a twenty-minute 5k runner to run in statewide competition. I was sitting beside Livy on the bus talking about her strategy for the hills when Jock came down the aisle.
“How are you feeling this morning?” he asked.
“Fine, coach. I’m still not going to qualify for sectionals, though.”
“I know. That’s why I don’t think you should run our race,” he said. I was expecting that but it still hurt. “I think you should run in the open 10k instead.”
“What?”
“The open 10 is a tough race and there will be all ages competing. The race is divided into categories by age and sex. We’ll be at the park in plenty of time to get you registered and warmed up. The open 5 and 10 will be run before the high school races. As a result, there won’t be many competitors in the eighteen-and-under category. I think you can run the distance and do it well enough the make the school proud. How about it?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “I like the long distances.”
“Don’t be surprised to find you have a running mate once we get there,” he chuckled.
“Well that sucks that he isn’t even giving you a chance to qualify for sectionals,” Livy said hotly.
“Not really,” I said, trying to calm her down. “No male who runs more than eighteen-thirty is going to place in this race. Maybe below seventeen. I’d have a hard time placing in your race. I like the idea of taking a good long run this morning. I don’t know what it’s like to run hills.”
“Good luck with that.”
The open 10k had a single start with everyone in a pack. There were about forty runners and I jumped out of my skin when one put a hand on the back of my neck and whispered, “Do you want it fast or slow?”
“Um… Both?” I suggested, turning to find Nanette.
“Fine. We’ll run fast downhill and slow up hill. You with me, partner?”
“This will be fun,” I answered. The starter called our attention and we were off.
It was a hard run. I was not used to hills but Nanette kept urging me on, shortening our stride uphill and lengthening downhill. After my run last Sunday, I felt like I could run forever, but running fast forever was a different situation. We crossed the finish line in just under forty-five minutes.
Livy caught us as we exited the chute and gave us both a hug. Then she kissed me while I was still trying to catch my breath. That didn’t help the process. Nanette laughed and Livy turned to lay one on her, too.
“Whoa! Girl!”
“Don’t worry,” Livy said. “I’m seventeen. You’re safe.”
The boys’ 5k cross country took off next and I managed to get to the starting line in time to watch the girls take off. A minute and a half after the last girl crossed the starting line, the first boy was entering the finish chute. I was happy to see it was our top runner in first place. Sixteen minutes later, Livy crossed the finish line, leading the girls. We had a double win.
It takes a while to tabulate results in the field, even when we wear transponders. The State Park Rangers had things well-organized though. We were back on the bus with two individual firsts and two team firsts.
“And we have a third and fourth individual first,” Jock said. “Jacob Hopkins and his running partner Nanette Schwartz placed first in their age and sex divisions in the Open 10k.” Well, hell! I needed to give Nanette another big kiss after that. I’d look forward to it.
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