by M. F. Lorson
I didn’t ask a lot of questions, mostly I let him do the talking unless it was about the homework and then I asked anything and everything it took to get it done. In the back of my mind however, I wondered why Hayden would think Jordan wouldn’t like him. It was no secret that the leads had privileged information. It was very likely that they knew why each and every one of us had been sent here. So if Hayden thought Jordan handpicked him then he was more trouble than I cared to know about. I decided early on that I was never going to play “What are you in for” with Hayden and that went both ways. If he asked me why I was here I would stay mum. There was no reason to go revealing anything to anyone. Sure I could trust Hayden but what if he let it slip to someone I couldn’t? A little mystery kept people cautious and I wanted to keep it that way. As long as people didn’t know about my past they didn’t know whether or not to be afraid of me. Because as long as they thought there was a possibility that I was dangerous they wouldn’t mess with me. A little mystery could keep you safe in a place like this.Chapter 6
The first week had come and gone and I still hadn’t narrowed down a skill. On the third Friday of August we would take exams in history and algebra. For English we would write an in class essay based on our readings. In sociology we would give our presentations and in biology we would partner up to complete a lab involving some type of cells. I was just praying I got partnered with someone who had a clue what they were doing. All of those things would be unnerving, especially considering my track record with tests but it was the skills exam that made my palms sweat. We had exactly twenty minutes to demonstrate to a panel of four judges, our ability to “contribute” to the school. Robyn was relentlessly preparing for her clarinet solo. Hayden was a talented poet and worked daily on polishing three pieces to read to the judges. Even Wanda was good at something. She spent hours in the art building, coming home each evening with new pieces of intricately designed jewelry. She called them “Wanda Originals” which made me want to puke but also incredibly envious. Every day at lunch Robyn would probe me for possible talents. I tried to think of something but came up empty handed every time. I was getting the feeling I had wasted most of my youth and was now a bit useless to society. It was Hayden that actually got me thinking in the right direction. He said a guy in his barrack was planning on taking the judges out of the judging room so that he could demonstrate his ability to shoot fifty free throws with 85 percent accuracy. Well, I couldn’t shoot a basketball to save my life. I couldn’t play softball or soccer or anything else involving a ball for that matter but, I was fast. I could out run everyone I knew. It’s why I made it to the clearing and Chelsea didn’t. If I could find a way to show them I was fast, maybe they could find a use for me. I could run track in the spring or cross country if they had a team. It was worth a shot. Tonight, after my meeting with Hayden there would still be a good hour before curfew. There was a one mile loop that circled the barracks and the science building. I would time myself at a dead sprint and then I would do it again and again and again for the next two months until I couldn’t possibly run it any faster. That’s what I would show them on the third Friday. It was hit or miss but it was all I had.
I changed into my Huntley and Drake issued gym clothes, laced up my electric blue running shoes and headed for the courtyard. It was so chilly out that each breath I took hung in front of me like that first morning fog on a mountain road. I got the feeling that I was never going to get used to Oregon weather. No one was out tonight. It was darker than I would have liked for my first time on a new course but there were street lights spread across the loop. I would only be in complete darkness for a couple of minutes at best. I was a tiny bit afraid. Maybe I should have taken Hayden up on his offer to run with me. After all it wasn’t a very bright idea, running at night, in a place where people were prone to cause trouble. But Hayden wouldn’t be as fast as me and I needed a challenge not company. As far as I could tell there were no other options. I had wasted two weeks not knowing what I would show the judges. In that time Wanda had made dozens of necklaces, each one better than the last. Robyn had spent hours glued to her music stand, pouring over sheet music. I was behind. I had to run now and every other chance I could get.
I had a cheap rubber sports watch to keep time with. It didn’t actually keep time anymore but the stopwatch function still worked so it would do. I’d never been much for stretching and I’d never seen the point of wasting energy just to warm up. So, I didn’t do either. I did what I always did. I took off in a dead sprint, rounding barrack A with considerable speed. I felt wild and alive. My lungs burning with the cold air. If I could maintain that feeling forever I could die happy. But it quickly left me. My legs were rusty and before long I had gone from smooth and fierce to sloppy, off pace, out of practice, and sluggish. I had wanted to complete my first loop with speed and good form, but I was already losing both. By the time I reached the darkest part of the path I was gasping for air, a stitch growing in my side. I wasn’t a quitter though, not when it came to this. I knew how to push through the pain. I didn’t stop. I didn’t slow down. I ran as if I were being chased. I ran as if the man in the blue house was two steps behind me, his hands outstretched hoping to grasp the length of my pony tail, t-shirt, whatever he could get his hands on. I ran like my life depended on it, because at one point it had. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t notice the first few leaves crackle beneath the weight of a second runner. As the sound got louder and faster I realized I was not alone. Whoever it was was gaining on me, and fast. I didn’t dare look behind me. What if they were closer than I thought? What if that split second was the difference between safety and danger? I pumped harder. My lungs were burning as if I had swallowed lighter fluid and I was still a good thirty seconds from the nearest street light. They were so close now that I could hear their breath as ragged and heavy as my own. Who ever it was had closed what I guessed was a hundred yard gap in less than ten seconds. I was out of shape and a bit sloppy but they were fast, much faster than me, even on my best day. If they had wanted to catch me I’d already have been caught. I burst into the bright circle beneath the first street lamp, whipping around to get a good look at my assailant. He didn’t pause, not even for a second. If I hadn’t hit the street light when I did I never would have been able to identify him. His face wasn’t illuminated for more than a second but it was long enough for me to recognize him. Jordan was like a streak of lightning one second there and the next, just a shadow in the dark. Before I could call out to him he had rounded the library and disappeared from sight. What little I saw of him was extraordinary. When he ran his whole body was transformed. He was like a machine, each piece running in sequence with the others. His stride was long and quick and his arms pumped back and forth in smooth strokes that propelled him forward at a speed I could only fantasize about.
I had been too distracted the first lap to check the stop watch but the second time I clocked myself at seven minutes fifteen seconds, a fairly abysmal time for someone who planned to ask four people to stand in August’s dry heat just to watch them run. My third lap was better. I finished in seven minutes and ten seconds, a five second improvement. I was exhausted by round four so I took it easy, using the time to clear my head. It didn’t take long for me to figure out what I wanted. Jordan ran like I needed to run and I needed him to teach me. But when was I going to talk to him and how was I going to convince him it was worth his time? He wasn’t like Hayden, no amount of batting my eyelashes was going to impress him. I couldn’t talk to him in the library not with the tension between him and Hayden and I definitely didn’t feel comfortable inviting myself to his lunch table. Even with Luke’s easy going manner it would be too awkward. As far as I could tell my best bet was to catch him, literally. I needed a strategy although the ability to plan things in advance had never been a strength of mine.The following night I would leave the library earlier than usual. When Jordan got up to go I would take it as my cue to leave. He would have to go back to the barracks
to change so if I wore my running clothes to the library I would have enough time to find a well lit spot on campus before he went out for his run. I was resting a lot on the assumption that he ran every night. If he didn’t I was shit out of luck but that kind of speed couldn’t have been the result of an occasional jaunt around the campus. It was likely that he trained hard, and regularly. I was going to wait for him to run by and then chase after him with everything I had. If I was lucky curiosity would get the best of him and he would slow down long enough to figure out why I was stalking him.
Tomorrow would be about strategy, but tonight was about homework, of which I still had a pile of waiting for me back at the barracks. As I made my way back to Barrack A I began to get an uneasy feeling. It was an unusually quiet night, even for a cold one. Where were all the other residents? How come I didn’t see upperclassmen traipsing in and out of the library? Sydney’s presence on the front step confirmed my suspicion that something was wrong. She was perched on the porch chain smoking with shaky hands, something I had never seen her do before and was pretty sure wasn’t allowed.
“What’s up?” I asked. She took a long drag on her cigarette before answering.
“You can go inside and go to bed now” she didn’t so much as look at me while she said it. I knew she was meaning to sound stern or at least authoritative but the way it came out she sounded far more scared than angry. Despite the fact that she was our supervisor she wasn’t our mother and she had never told any of us when we could or couldn’t go to bed before. Something had happened and I needed to get inside and make sure whatever was happening wasn’t happening to me. Like the rest of campus, Barrack A was silent. It was only ten o'clock but everyone was in their cots. Some did homework with a flashlight but most lie perfectly still. The only sound I could hear was the shower running in the other room. I did a quick scan of the rooms. Only one person was out of bed and I was less than surprised to observe that Wanda was the only one not obeying Sydney’s direction. I sat down on my cot to pull my shoes off. Robyn was still awake, facing me on her side. I mouthed “What happened”. But her only response was to put one finger up to her lips and motion for me to keep quiet. I really needed to make an effort to improve my connections here. I was gone for half an hour and I had obviously missed something huge and yet there wasn’t a single person here inclined to fill me in. A few moments later the shower clicked off. Wanda was on the am shower list now so not only was she violating Sydney’s early to bed rule but also she was taking up someone else’s time slot. I was going to be angry if Sydney was out there chain smoking and barking orders because Wanda felt like screwing with someone’s shower time. If she was that weak this early Wanda would have control of the whole barrack by Christmas break. But then I saw it, what it was that had everyone stone silent, eighteen girls, lying catatonic in their cots. As Wanda exited the bathroom, I had to cover my mouth to silence a shriek. Even with her head hanging down so that her wet hair covered half of her face I could see that something was very wrong. Her whole body trembled as she slowly lowered herself onto her cot. Wanda’s face was swollen so badly on one side that she was almost unrecognizable. Her right eye was swollen shut and she had already begun to form a deep green bruise above her cheek. I thought for one brief, guilty yet joyous moment that some no name from barrack A had finally stood up to her. But, I knew better. There wasn’t a girl in that room that had the balls to confront Wanda verbally, they sure as hell weren’t going to do it physically. Whoever hurt her was not one of us. Wanda had been jumped and I couldn’t help but think that other than myself, there had only been one person out tonight and they were running like someone who didn’t want to be caught.
Chapter 7
Sometimes the dreams were more like memories. They were so familiar, so real that I didn’t know they were dreams. It was as if everything else had been a dream and these, these were the real moments. We were on the school bus again. Chelsea and I. Her big curly blond hair took up half of our seat.“You’re blocking my view.” I whined.
“Soooooorrrrryy.” she said, drawing the word out as long as possible. We were waiting for our newest crush. Every morning ride was a chance that we might see him. “Oh my gawd”, she gasped. “He’s coming out to get the paper! That’s twice this week!” Her voice squealed with excitement “I think he looooves me, I bet he doesn’t even read that paper, just picks it up so he can catch a glimpse of my radiant face!” I slugged her in the shoulder
“Right, you’re totally right” As always the two of us were a fit of giggles, boys had that effect on us of course but he especially had that effect on us. He, was the gorgeous stranger that moved into the big blue house on Oak street. “Lemme see” I cried. Chelsea shifted just enough that the both of us could get a good look out the window. He was bending over to pick up the paper. Chelsea let out a loud whistle. With the windows rolled up there was no way he could of heard that whistle yet….he was standing up straight now. He was looking directly at the school bus.
“Holy crap!” said Chelsea .“He looked right at us!”
“Looked” I cried, “He’s looking right at us.” We weren’t imagining it this time. The man from the blue house was definitely staring at us. We had seen him dozens of times. In the grocery store, on our bus ride, once at McDonalds, but he had never seen us back. Two twelve year old girls didn’t usually gain the attention of a grown man. But today was different. Today we weren’t invisible. He smiled, his perfect white teeth gleaming in the morning sunlight. “I dare you to wave” I said.
“Serious?”
“Serious” She shrugged, “Why not.” and before I could take it back she was waving frantically, like someone trying to flag down a cab that was about to drive away with their wallet still in the back seat.
“Enough” I cried “You’re gonna freak him out!”
“I guess I already did.” she laughed. She was right, the man from the big blue house wasn’t smiling anymore. We couldn’t tell if he was happy or angry or irritated. His face was flat. “Maybe he’ll be out on the way home” Chelsea said. “Maybe” I replied, both of us were discouraged. Then it happened, just as the bus turned the corner, just for a second, After twenty consecutive bus rides with no response, the man from the blue house raised his hand and waved.
That was the dream I hated the most. Because in the dream I wanted to see him, in the dream that wave made me smile and giggle and snuggle close to Chelsea, the two of us blissfully happy, clueless and stupid. I always woke up sick to my stomach. Maybe if I didn’t have those dreams all of the time I would have moved on by now. But, I did have them and I couldn’t help but feel like they were there for a reason. Like I was still missing something. I couldn’t shake the feeling that if I could just figure it out I could change something. At this point changing anything was better than going on as if she had never existed. It’s what her parents had done, what my parents wanted me to do, but I refused. I was never going to pretend everything was okay just so I could get on with the rest of my life not with Chelsea still out there. Dead or alive she deserved better.
Whenever I dreamt about Chelsea I woke up feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. It was going to be a long day and I had a lot to straighten out. Robyn still wasn’t talking to me. But it wasn’t personal no one was talking to anyone. No one wanted to be the person that got caught gossiping about Wanda getting her ass kicked. I would wait till lunch and ask her then. I was getting incredibly sick of salad and prepackaged items. If I made it past first cuts the first thing I was going to do was take an off campus pass to the grocery store. Until then it was yogurt and lunchables. Why they stocked those for high schoolers is beyond me, but since I was living on them I wasn’t complaining. Robyn was not intimidated by questionable entrees she tried and liked most anything. It blew my mind considering she was so picky about everything else. Not a day went by that I didn’t hear what an injustice it was that we all had to wear the same uniform. I had no desire to engage in small talk today so I cut strai
ght to it.
