Run

by David Skuy

  “I reserved his services first,” Rajeev cried.

  “I’ll pay more,” Manuel said, laughing.

  “How have the jogging shoes worked out for you?” Rajeev asked Lionel. “I noticed you running past my store with Britney a few times.”

  Britney was sniffing around.

  “He’s in training,” Binny said. “He’s our Marathon Man.”

  “You’re running a marathon?” Manuel said.

  This was getting stupid. Did he look like a marathon runner? He had been running every day, often twice, and his wall was filling up with check marks and stars. He was up to five hundred sit-ups and a hundred and fifty push-ups a day. But that didn’t make him a runner. He needed to put a stop to this before they found out the truth. “I don’t run all that much,” he said. “A few times a week, no big deal. No marathons.”

  “I have tried to encourage my Deepak to engage in more physical activity,” Rajeev said.

  “It’s not your fault I’m lazy,” Deepak grinned.

  “You should run with Lionel,” Gwen said. “You might not keep up, but it’s a start.”

  “I’d be up for that,” Deepak said.

  Manuel elbowed Afonso. “Soccer is starting soon. Wouldn’t hurt you to start training.”

  “Sounds good,” Afonso said. “When do you run — mornings or nights?”

  Lionel figured they’d be too busy to run in the morning. “I usually get up early and run in the mornings. Dumb habit, so …”

  “I’d love to run with you guys,” Kiana said. “I maybe get two track practises a week. Whellan does so much at school he doesn’t have the time.”

  “It’s the morning, early. Are you sure …?”

  They weren’t listening to him.

  “It wouldn’t hurt Britney to run either,” Gwen said. “She’s fat enough for two dogs, and she loves her walks with Lionel.”

  “We’ll take you too, Miss Chubby-Wubby,” Kiana said. She gave Britney a vigorous pet under her belly.

  “You should name your running club,” Rajeev said.

  “Afonso and I can be the Slow Guys in Slow Motion,” Deepak said.

  “You’re not building my confidence,” Afonso said.

  “It should be something about the Market,” Kiana said.

  “How about the Marketeers,” Lionel said. The name just popped into his head.

  “That is very clever,” Rajeev said. “It combines the fact you all know each other from the Market with the sense of camaraderie in Alexandre Dumas’s classic adventure story, The Three Musketeers.”

  They stared at him.

  “You guys should read more,” Kiana said. “I read that last year. Have you read it?” Kiana said to Lionel.

  “Not yet,” said Lionel. He hadn’t read a book in years. “Is it good?”

  “It’s amazing,” Kiana said. “I’ll give it to you.”

  She sure seemed excited about this book. He said thanks to be polite.

  “So, what time should we meet?” Deepak asked.

  “How about seven?” Afonso suggested.

  “Not much time for a shower before school,” Kiana said.

  “So, maybe six thirty?” Afonso countered. “Later on weekends, I suppose.”

  “I thought the Marketeers was gonna be fun,” Deepak moaned.

  “We need to celebrate the birth of the Marketeers in style,” Manuel said. “Get your butts downstairs — and drinks are on me.”

  “No chance,” Binny said. “You ain’t making me look bad in my own place. You’re all gonna rip me off and have your drinks for free.”

  Binny clapped Manuel on the shoulders and the two of them led the way. Lionel hung back, not wanting to get in the middle of things. As Gwen left, he decided to take a last look. It really was a beautiful space. He let himself feel a little proud of what he’d done.

  The best part: Kiana’s family was happy about it.

  “You admiring your handiwork?” Kiana said.

  He nearly dropped to the floor in shock. How come she wasn’t downstairs? They were alone in the room — together!

  “I … um … thought I’d forgotten something — but I hadn’t.”

  “C’mon. If anyone deserves a treat, it’s you.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” This conversation needed to end. He took a step towards the stairs, but Kiana reached out and held him lightly by the arm. The touch of her hand sent a flash of heat up to his shoulder. He looked down at the floor, feeling so uncomfortable it was all he could do to stop himself from running off.

  “I don’t want you to think my dad’s a hoarder like those freaks on tv. He’s not. It’s just, at least this is what my mom thinks, that my dad got into … like … a bad habit. He began to collect, and then collecting became way more important than what he was collecting, and then he began collecting things he shouldn’t have and …”

  She was obviously struggling to explain something to him. Why him, though?

  “I was happy to help.”

  She raised her arms and let them flop to her sides. “I’m never good at saying what I mean. I’m stupid that way.”

  “You’re the smartest kid in school.”

  She blushed. “Not sure about that. There’s a difference between school smart and life smart. Anyway, I wanted to tell you how awesome this is and … it was fun getting to know you … and talking to you. You’re different at school. You never say anything.” She laughed. “Just thanks, okay.”

  He’d never seen her look so beautiful. They sat close to each other in English, but this was different. She was actually talking to him. He’d clean ten rooms full of junk to share a moment like this. He looked fully into her eyes. He’d never done that before. They were crystal clear blue, soft and light, with a tiny bit of green around the edges. He wondered why he’d never noticed that green color before.

  She was the first to look away. “You wanna … um … get down there? I’m dyin’ for a mango-strawberry-banana smoothie.”

  “What do you want, Lionel?” Binny’s voice rang out as they walked into the café.

  They were sitting around two tables that had been pulled together.

  “I’m okay, thanks,” he said.

  He didn’t want to look like the typical fat kid who ate all the time — it was just nice to be included in the Marketeers. He’d also promised himself not to drink any pop until all the boxes on his running sheet were checked.

  “Hey, Georgina, get Lionel something to drink, will ya?” Binny called out. “We can’t have a toast unless everyone has a full glass. It’s bad luck.”

  “Maybe I’ll go pick something,” Lionel murmured.

  “Go for it,” Binny said. “Anything you like.”

  “Can you get my smoothie?” Kiana said.

  He nodded and went to the bar. Georgina was pouring beer from the tap into frosted pint glasses. He waited for her to finish.

  “You need something?” she said. Her face was cold and her jaw set firmly in place.

  She sounded irritated, almost mad, which wasn’t like her, at least not with him. “It’s Kiana. She wants a mango-strawberry-banana smoothie.”

  Her shoulders slumped and she put two beers and two orange juices on the counter. Somehow Kiana’s order upset her. Probably because it was more work.

  “I’ll just have some water — and thanks.”

  A glimpse of a smile appeared. “Water? That’s it? Binny’s buying.”

  He nodded.

  The smile got bigger. “Ice?”

  “I guess. Thanks.”

  She began to put the fruit in the blender.

  Lionel didn’t want to just leave. It seemed unfair, with everyone getting a drink except her. “Did you hear that we’re starting a running club?”

  “I know. Binny told me.”

 
“Do you run at all?”

  She turned the blender on leaving him wondering if she’d heard, so he waited until she finished. It took a long time.

  Binny was getting impatient. “Hey, Georgina, it’s a smoothie,” he called out. “You don’t have to pulverize it for half an hour. I’m a thirsty man here.”

  “I’m coming,” Georgina said gruffly, twisting the blender from the base.

  “So, do you run?” Lionel said.

  The question embarrassed her. “I don’t anymore, not since I was a little kid in cross-country, like in grade three, and I’m a bit of a klutz.”

  “Me too,” Lionel said, “but we’re only jogging. It doesn’t matter how fast you are. You can’t be slower than me.”

  “You run all the time,” she said.

  As if.

  “You should come,” he said. “It’s early, like six thirty in the morning, but it might be fun. We won’t run too far, I bet, and like I said, I’m so slow you could keep up easy.”

  She picked up the tray. Lionel was amazed at how strong she was. The tray was loaded and she carried it like a pile of feathers.

  Lionel suddenly got it. “Georgina’s going to join the Marketeers,” he said, following her to the tables.

  “Lionel,” Georgina hissed.

  “For sure. The more the merrier,” Deepak said.

  “Get yourself a drink and get over here for the toast,” Binny ordered Georgina.

  “Well, I could use the exercise, I guess … on days I’m not opening,” Georgina said quietly.

  “I’m happy to open for you,” Gwen said.

  Georgina put the tray on the table. “Smoothie’s for Kiana, right? I assume you two are having the beers.” She gave them to Binny and Manuel. She gave Gwen and Rajeev the orange juice. “Here’s your water,” she said, holding it up for Lionel.

  “Hurry up and grab something,” Binny said to Georgina.

  “I’m okay,” she said.

  “No chance. That’s an order,” Binny said.

  Georgina blushed. “Thanks. I’ll just have a Coke.” She scurried back to the counter.

  “You’re having water?” Kiana said to Lionel. “You gotta live once in a while.”

  “I’m thirsty,” he said.

  “You sure you don’t want something else?” Gwen said to him.

  “This is fine,” Lionel said.

  Georgina came back with a Coke.

  “We’re ready,” Binny declared. He held up his beer, and everyone else held up their glasses. “I want to thank you kids, and the beautiful Gwyneth, for cleaning up my mess. I feel so great I could almost join the Marketeers myself — almost.”

  They laughed.

  “Thanks to Deepak and Kiana for all their hard work, and to Afonso and Manuel for fixing the roaster. Here’s to Binny’s Beans being a massive success, and here’s to Rajeev and Manuel fixing up their places too, and most of all, here’s to Lionel for doing most of the heavy lifting.”

  “To new beginnings,” Gwen said, clinking her glass with Binny’s.

  “New beginnings!” the rest of them sang out.

  Kiana held her smoothie towards him. Lionel gave it a touch.

  A new beginning? It was something he’d dreamed about — for a very long time.

  Friday night: 6:35 p.m.

  Lionel covered his mouth and looked down at the sidewalk as a group of girls walked by. He prayed they hadn’t seen him laughing to himself, like he was some outpatient from a mental hospital. He couldn’t help it when he remembered how Binny bet Georgina he could balance her Coke on his head — and it fell all over him. Binny laughed so hard Lionel thought he was gonna have a heart attack.

  Weirdest part was, Lionel had the feeling Binny knew he couldn’t do it, but tried anyway. Lionel would’ve been so humiliated he’d have run straight out and never come back. Binny wiped himself off and kept right on joking around with them. He even said he’d come out with the Marketeers one weekend, and that he was going to try and stop smoking — which made Gwen cry again.

  Kiana — it still didn’t seem real. They’d talked the entire time. Of course, he couldn’t think of anything cool or funny to say, except it didn’t matter because she asked him a million questions and told him about her teachers and how Ian had this crush on Rashmi and drove her crazy with ten texts a day, and that Rashmi kept saying to Kiana she didn’t like him — she always answered to be polite, she said — which made Kiana think that deep down she did like him. Kiana also told him Nick was texting her a lot, and he kept asking to go to Pearl’s for lunch or after school, and she’d kept putting him off until it was getting rude so she finally said yes.

  The only negative was Kiana pressing him about his English story. She forced him to tell her about it; worse, she made him promise to let her read it. She even said it sounded awesome, which he couldn’t believe was true. Then she told him she wanted to be a writer someday, and she made him promise never to tell anyone or she’d kill him because she was so embarrassed about it — as if Lionel had anyone to tell. Lionel said her story was the best in the class and he thought she’d be a great writer. After he’d said that, she took a long sip from her smoothie, like she was thinking about something important.

  Lionel surveyed the front of his building. It looked like the coast was clear, and he didn’t hear any music playing from the basketball court. No Hombres. He waited for a break in the traffic and then sprinted for the front doors. He hadn’t seen that man since he’d stolen his money. Lionel wasn’t taking any chances, though, and he made sure the Hombres didn’t see him coming or going.

  He felt a smile break out. It sure was nice to sit in the café and talk to Kiana. It didn’t bother him that Kiana was doing it because she had to. Kids like Kiana know how to talk to someone like him. He’d seen it tons of times. Popular kids would treat losers nice once in a while, for no reason — because they could. The mistake was thinking the popular kid was your friend. Try doing that at school and Kiana would put him in his place. He got in the elevator and laughed out loud when the doors closed. Like they were going to be besties!

  He stepped out. Three pizza boxes had spilled across the floor in front of the apartment next to Donna’s. They really were pigs. He bent down to pick them up. He’d better run this downstairs to the recycling bin. A couple of days this week he’d been late getting back from the café and Donna had taken the recycling down. He’d felt guilty about that. She was too old to be lugging pizza boxes and bottles.

  Donna’s apartment door opened.

  “Lionel, this is so nice. I was going to knock on your door and drop something off. Then I heard the elevator and thought it might be you.”

  Caught red-handed. “I was late today. Sorry. I was at the café and … I’m sorry about this mess. I’ll get these in the bin,” he said.

  “Those boxes can survive until tomorrow. Give them here.”

  “I … I’m sorry. I’ll do better next week.”

  She walked over to him. “Poor Lionel. Everything is hard for you, I think. Give me the boxes. You’ve had a long day. I’ll put them out tomorrow morning and you can take them then. Okay?”

  She reached her arms out and Lionel gave her the boxes. Suddenly, she threw her head back and laughed.

  “You are the dearest young thing. So serious. What other teenager would be so worried about recycling pizza boxes?” She tapped her cane on the floor. “By the way, thank you for telling me about Binny’s. I went there the other day and had a nice cup of coffee and a muffin, which was delicious, and I had a nice chat with a young girl who dresses like a witch.”

  He laughed. “That’s Georgina. She’s nice.”

  “She is, once you get past the horrible stuff she’s done to herself, what with those earrings everywhere and all those silly tattoos.” Her eyes got wide and she took hold of his forearm. “She even has a pi
erced tongue! An earring right through her tongue. Yuck! I asked her why she’d do something so silly, and she said she liked the way it looked. I said no girl in her right mind would put an earring in her tongue. We had a good time, though. I like her. Anyway, how’s the job going?”

  “We’re done. Afonso, one of the other kids, fixed a coffee roaster and Binny’s gonna start roasting his own beans — Binny’s Beans — like real gourmet coffee. He’s gonna fix up the café with some of the stuff he’s collected, like with a chandelier and pictures and plates, and now I’m gonna help Rajeev and Manuel fix up their places, so that’s good — and we have a running club — the Marketeers.”

  “That’s wonderful. Sounds like things are working out well.” She looked at her watch. “You’ll have to excuse me, though. I arranged to Skype my son. He’s in California — an actor.” She was obviously proud of him.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

  She rapped the floor with her cane. “You stop being sorry all the time,” she snapped. “Honestly, you say sorry more than anyone I know — and I don’t know what you’re sorry about. Now can you be a sweetie and put those boxes in my apartment?”

  Lionel followed her back. He looked in. Her place was neat and tidy.

  “Just put them there,” she pointed to a space under the table in her hallway. “Now, wait for a moment.”

  Before he could say a word, she disappeared into her bedroom. Moments later she came back. “Here you go. This is for helping me with my neighbors. I hope you like it.”

  He took the bag. “You didn’t need to … It’s not my birthday or anything, and I don’t mind helping.”

  “Shush. I like buying presents for my friends. Now open it up. I have to make my call.”

  “It’s one of those smart watches, I think they call it,” she said. “Keeps track of your distance and your time and how many strides you take. It even tracks your heart rate, although I have no idea how it does that. The person at the store said it also lets you text and check emails … You kids are so good with technology. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  “I can’t take this. It’s too much. And I’m not a runner — I mean, not really.”