Running With the Wind by John Foley

Author:John Foley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: flux, teen, youth, young, adult, fiction
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2011-11-17T00:00:00+00:00

12

“For whatever we lose (like a you or a me)

it’s always ourselves we find in the sea.”

—e. e. cummings

For an hour I sat in the cabin of Morning Sun and thought about what I’d say to Kelly. I picked up the phone, put it down. Got up from the bunk, sat back down. I would have paced if there was enough room.

Finally I called her. Naturally, Mr. Armstead answered. He was formally polite, as usual, although he sighed a couple of times. I could almost hear him thinking, Not the O’Connell kid again. Thought that boatyard bastard was out of the picture.

He handed the phone over to Kelly. “Hello?” she said tentatively.

“Hi, Kels, Jackson. How you doing?”

“Hmmm. Fair to partly cloudy. You boating types like weather reports, right?”

“And you Ivy League types like witty conversation,” I said, “but I don’t think I have much at the moment.”

“Don’t worry, neither do I. Look, Jackson, I miss you and feel rotten that I hurt you. I was going to call you, but I was a little mad because I don’t think you had sufficient empathy for me.”

“My empathy was insufficient,” I agreed. “I also needed to think things through. I just had lunch with Gerry … ”

“Did he tell you I called him?”

“Yeah, he did, but I was probably going to call you anyway, Kelly. You know Gerry. He just gave me a little push.”

“I told him not to tell you, then I told him if he wanted to tell you he could,” she said. “Deep down I wanted him to tell you.”

“He did. We had an interesting conversation. Did you know he’s going to ride his bike to Colorado and go to graduate school out there in the fall?”

“Gerry’s a wild man.”

“He’s also really into meditation and Buddhism,” I added. “He said we’re always meditating about something, and the truth is I’ve been meditating about you since the wedding. Hours and hours of Kelly meditation.”

“That’s good to know,” she said. “I’m starting to feel the sun break through the clouds. Yes, it’s definitely clearing up.”

“Good. Want to go for a motorcycle ride?”

“I take this to mean you sold the brown beast. Sure, come on over. I want to see the look on my dad’s face when you pull up to the house.”

I kept the Intruder in a storage locker I rented, along with my basketball, winter clothes, and books. I was getting a good feel for her on the highway, and trying to be very careful. It helped that—okay, I’ll admit it—I’m a pretty slow driver. I’d noticed already that drivers had a harder time seeing motorcycles; a few started pulling their cars into a lane I was occupying. I tried to stay clear of blind spots and be very aware of the vehicles around me, which made the experience more intense than driving a car.

It was getting toward dinnertime by the time I reached the Armstead’s. I was hoping Kelly wouldn’t invite me inside for another uncomfortable meal. Mr. Armstead, hands on hips and a scowl on his face, watched me pull into his driveway on my bike.

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