The Memory of Running by McLarty Ron

Author:McLarty, Ron [Ron, McLarty,]
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 0739455346
Published: 2010-06-03T04:00:00+00:00

The Memory of Running

33

In the morning I could hear rain pelting the red metal roof. I rolled onto my back, but the cut above my shoulder blades put me back onto my side. I had fallen asleep in one of the stuffed square chairs in the center of the big room and somehow made my way to the floor, where I spent the night. I looked over to the bookcase cor- ner. Carl was still asleepor at least amazingly still.

It was day outside, and some of that gray light spilled onto my head from a large bay window. As I became more awakeand it was hard, because I slept solid and didnt even dreamI could sense an ache that pinched all over me like a lot of tiny pins. My hands and arms were black and blue. I looked at my chest and my stomach and the rest of me, curled, swollen, and discolored. Using the square chairs, I stood, feeling as if I were balanced on a ball. It was a high- wire shuffle to the bathroom, where I ran a hot-hot bath and soaked in it until at least the little pins disappeared. My shorts had a big hole in the thigh part and the heel of my Father Benny sneaks had been ripped clean off. I pulled on my clothes and my paper shirt. I took four more aspirin.

When I pushed open the bookshelves and walked out of the bath- room, Carl was sitting up in bed. He had brushed his damp hair back with a brush from his night table. Even in his illness, he looked young, almost like a child. I felt embarrassed in my green paper shirt.

Youre all messed up, he said quietly, pushing out the words in a kind of puff.

I dont know. You are. God. Look at what I did. No, no. I shouldnt have been stopped there. You were on the grass. You were twenty feet off the road. Carl

raised his arms and dropped them. His fingers were pink skeleton fingers. I was out of it at the hospital.

Thats okay. Im out of it. Even my doctor says Im out of it. I remembered something about the doctor but not much. Pony-

tail. Protein. Food. Food, I said. Check the fridge. Theres food. Id eat. I made things I could make. I could make scrambled eggs and toast

and tea and pour apple juice. I cant drink apple juice, Carl said when I put the tray on his lap.

I drink it and actually piss it out as apple juice. Right away. Im out of it.

I pushed one of the square chairs over and ate, too. Eggs have a lot of protein, but for some reason I only ate a little.

Good, he said, chewing. He put some egg on the corner of his toast and said it again. Good.

We were quiet while he ate. My family was quiet while we ate, too. Some families have loud meals, and food is only a part of the loudness.

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