Race # 12 Sectionals

 

Dad takes myself and Hans LoGrtto to the Sectional meet. All five runners running from our conference I have beat at various times droning the season, including Peacock.

I can still feel Renae’s lips on mine from the night before.

 The sectional is at East Peoria When we arrive we see Coach and Peacock. He is warming up. He is ready. Hans and I both walk over to him give him a hug and wish him best of luck.

Hans seems like he can give two shits He looks tired. Hans is a year older. The class of '95. The class Mr. Reents swears by. The class that is purported to have scholastic promise and flare.

I am a freshman. I am trying to impress Hans.

"I had a date last night man. I’m dating this really cool girl from Limestone. She’s beautiful she’s amazing." 

I hold the picture for hand. He looks at the photo of Renae. He squints as if optically scrutinizing a film negative.

“You’re dating her?”

 

“Yeah, she’s my girlfriend. I mean, she kinda dated a buddy of mine for a while last year only I don’t think they were all that serious. He’s more of the suck helium out of the homecoming balloon and make funny voices type.”

 

“Dude, dave, that’s your girlfriend?”

 

Hans says as if he thinks I am not capable of sating a creature of such grace.

 

“Dave, you hit that shit?”

 

“What?” No! For some reason when Hans way the word hit I think he is talking about physically abusing her.

 

“No I mean, do you guys have sex?”

I am shocked. I want to tell Hans that I am  Christian. I want to convey to him that I don not believe in premarital sex.

“No, I mean, we just started dating.”

 

Hans grabs the pictures and holds it up even though it is a gray day outside.

 “Dave bro that is one beautiful girl man. That is one beautiful girl, Dave. Very impressed man. ”

I am still thinking about Renae from last night. I am still thinking about how her lips felt. I can still see her closing her eyes gravitating towards my face.

I try not to think about her naval or the ruffled foam of her panties.

The green Gideon bible is in my front pocket.

 

The race is about to begin. 

 

 The race is ready to beginning. Our sectional is raw.He is fighting. Central is there as a team. As is Metamora, Richwoods and Notre Dame as well as power houses from Bloomington. Schools we normally don't compete against. There are a stream of runners. Akin to Detweiller East Peoria course is two and half loops. It is damp. The weather can almost best be defined as being morose.

 

Central gets dogged, At the two mile mark I find myself cheering on Sheep Dog Boy who only weeks earlier I clashed with because he made a racial slur about our Hispanic Captain. Adam White and Tim Broe battle almost stride by stride the entire race. The captain of Morton's squad is not far behind. Peacock is battling. 

                                                  

I am cheering Randy on. At the second mile I stand next to Coach Ricca. I ask Coach if he thinks Randy has a chance.

 

He needs to move up more. I am cheering Peacock on. I have not run all week. I am waiting for my body to heal.

“ I am screaming out his name, I am telling him go Peacock.  I am telling him that this is the last mile of his high school career. I am mandating that it is now or never. Peacock has a steady lope. It is a grueling course on an unforgiving day.

 

I am yelling at him to fly.

 

As if a precursor for the state meet Adam White finishes ahead of the pack. A cool kid with long hair Bloomington finishes in the top six. Peacock runs his fastest time of the season. It is 16:24. In retrospect in it only about six seconds faster than I ran in Morton, only Morton was flat service.

The first thing I do is that I met Peacock at the back of the chute.

I give him a hug.

There are four other individual runners who finished ahead of him. He finished ahead of the entire Central pack. He is four runners shy of participating in the state meet.

Coach is smiling. It is Peacock’s fastest time on grass.

“That sure is a helluva way to finish out the season.”

I am not thinking about what would have happened had I been healthy.  I am not thinking that I was kicking Peacocks ass in practice and that the first meet I had the lead destined to trump my cousin’s record until I took a wrong turn.  I am not thinking about how last week I got beat by Leatric who I have schooled every race.

I am thinking that next year myself and Logrotto will return and the two of us will be faster and we will lead the team. 

“You did it brother.” I tell Peacock,

 

I look at Hans.

"Next year this is going to be us brother. Next year we are not only going to be here but we are taking the entire team with us. Next year."

“Dude, if I were you I’d be all over that girl in the photograph. She is hot as shit. Fuck next year, tap that shit tonight.”

It is Halloween and it looks like it could snow.