Running Through It by Lorie Scarfarotti

Author:Lorie Scarfarotti
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Red Deer Press
Published: 2022-08-11T18:29:30+00:00

Chapter 18

“I Ran”

Rain, already, I thought, looking at the grey Saturday morning sky. Rain wasn’t going to ruin my run, but it would ruin my night at the fair. Dad and I ran plenty of times in the rain. His theory was, if I could train in crappy weather, I’d have no problem racing in it. We used to jog along the ravine trails that cut through the city, and get home soaked, with mud splattered up the backs of our legs. Dad would say we got Jackson Pollock-ed, after the abstract artist.

I planned on running to the track at the high school as a long warmup, and I’d brought my metro card to come home. It was only two stops, but if I got soaked and tired, I wanted an easy out. Standing on the front porch, I chewed my last bite of bagel with peanut butter, and checked my playlist. I clicked on “Back Down,” put my phone and card in a Ziploc, and was off.

I looked for Gigi when I was nearing the corner, but all her windows were closed. The relief Lucas felt, seeing her lean out her window, reminded me how his mind was always ticking, and how I often forgot to think about things. A teacher told Mom once that she could see the curiosity bubbling when he spoke. All that Wikipedia reading, I guessed.

The Arkells’ “11:11” played as I jogged past apartment buildings, Linda’s Nails, Chacho’s Restaurant, and wove around people walking their dogs, their kids, themselves. I began to doubt if doing the drills again would help much, especially on my own, but I’d told Dad I would do it. I’ll get it eventually. I crossed the street and wished Dad would be at the track to help. He was tired and having tests, but I still wanted him with me. It was totally selfish.

I slowed down as the sidewalk got more crowded, and passed by a mix of cafés, restaurants, and stores. I thought back to Dad talking to his friend on the phone. He was so outrageous, the way he was talking, and not just the smoking bombshell. It was the way he sounded. Loose and—honest. That was it. He seemed so honest, talking to his friend. Even when I couldn’t hear him all that clearly, his tone was sincere. And what he said about smoking wasn’t anything new to his friend, just to me. It just kind of threw me. Plus, I didn’t know what some of the things meant. And when he got quieter . . . is that why I felt something was missing?

I rounded the corner by the station when thunder boomed. Rain wasn’t the problem, but lightning brought it to a different level. I ran into the station to try to decide what to do: track or home, track or home? I didn’t want to get all the way to the high school and get caught in a thunderstorm. I checked the weather on my phone, and sure enough, there was a little cloud with a lightning bolt, and 100% underneath it.

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