<link href="css/CSS_1.css" rel="stylesheet" type="text/css"/> <meta content="urn:uuid:6fe4a109-129d-4a77-8387-ddb9b8072f26" name="Adept.expected.resource"/></head><body><div class="chapter"> <h1 id="p0059-01-0"><a id="page56"/><a href="toc.xhtml#c4">Chapter Four</a> </h1> <p style="text-indent: 0em;"><i>W</i>hen Kevin got home and Grandma asked him if he had met any nice friends, he could truthfully say that he had. “Alonee Lennox, she introduced me to her friends, Grandma, and I like them all.”</p> <p id="p0059-02-2">“Alonee,” Grandma cooed the name. “Now that sounds like the name a pretty girl would have, if I do say so.”</p> <p id="p0059-02-3">Yeah,” Kevin agreed. “She’s pretty. But what really makes her special is that she’s so warm. She makes me feel like I’ve been going to that school for a long time.”</p> <p id="p0060-01-0"><a id="page57"/>Grandpa looked up from his newspaper. He’d been working a crossword puzzle. “She cotton to you boy? Good-looking boy like you. I bet she’s looking you over pretty good, eh?” Grandpa chuckled.</p> <p id="p0060-01-1">“Oh, she’s nice to everybody,” Kevin answered, his face warming.</p> <p id="p0060-01-2">“But maybe she’s extra nice to you boy. I ’member when I was a young buck down there in Texas, and this pretty little gal came along and she set her bonnet for me pretty quick. I wasn’t no wrinkled up old man with bad legs like I am now. Oh no. I was smooth and handsome as you are, Kevin. And this little gal, she was pretty as a sunflower. She’s old now too, and she don’t look like she did then, but I still love her plenty,” Grandpa said. </p> <p id="p0060-01-3">Grandma Lena came back at him. “Don’t you be calling me old, old man. You watch your mouth.”</p> <p id="p0060-01-4">“Well, y’are. You’re old, Lena. Ain’t no sin in that,” Grandpa responded firmly. “What’s good is that we’re still together. I never hankered to divorce you, Lena. Never wanted to trade you for another gal, though some of these bold women came on to me. I was doing carpenter work in their homes, and they’d hang around all gussied up and sweet smelling of lilac water. But I never wanted to divorce you, Lena.”</p> <p id="p0061-01-1"><a id="page58"/>“Well, I’ve wanted to kill you a few times, old man,” Grandma said. “But I never did and more’s the pity ’cause now I’d have a peaceful life.” Grandma then smiled toward Kevin and said, “You can have this Alonee over anytime, honey boy. I’ll cook up an extra nice meal, and if that old man over there will shave and shower and put on a clean shirt, we won’t be an embarrassment to you.”</p> <p id="p0061-01-2">“Thanks, Grandma, but we’re just school friends now,” Kevin explained. “Oh and another thing. I joined the track team at school. I’m a Tubman Titan now, and I get to wear the yellow and blue. Coach Curry had me run against some other guys and I won.”</p> <p id="p0062-01-1"><a id="page59"/>“Well, good for you, Kevin,” Grandma said. “You were always as fast as the wind. When you were a little shaver, you’d be running all over the place, and your mama would laugh and say you went so quick she could hardly make you out. She had a nickname for you—Twister. She said the onliest thing faster than you was a twister, a Texas tornado.”</p> <p id="p0062-01-2">“I remember her calling me Twister,” Kevin recalled. “She’d have a chore for me and she’d look for me and I’d be gone. ‘Come back here, Texas Twister,’ she’d holler. She always called me that . . . always. . .”</p> <p id="p0062-01-3">The sadness came back, rolling over Kevin like a cold fog. Kevin remembered Mom in the hospital bed at hospice, where people went to die as comfortably as possible. The nurse was at her bedside all the time. Mom said, “Nurse, I want to see my boy. Twister, you haven’t run off again, have you?” And Kevin, who spent almost all his time there, came to her bedside. “I’m here, Mom,” he said softly. Then, when the end was very near, the hospice nurse told Kevin that, even when his mother seemed to be gone—even after she had breathed her last—he should lean close and tell her that he loved her, and she would hear him. The nurse said she would sail right into paradise with his words in her ear. And that’s what Kevin did. He leaned close and said over and over, “Mama, I love you.”</p> <p id="p0063-01-1"><a id="page60"/>“Baby,” Grandma remarked now, “you look troubled.”</p> <p id="p0063-01-2">“No, no,” Kevin responded. “I’m good.” </p> <p id="p0063-01-3">“It’s because I talked about your mother. It made you sad. I shouldn’t talk about her so much, but I loved her and I want to remember her,” Grandma explained.</p> <p id="p0063-01-4">“Grandma, it’s okay,” Kevin said. “I want to remember her too. I never want to forget her.” </p> <p id="p0063-01-5">Grandma smiled. “I made meatloaf and mashed potatoes with thick gravy and pecan pie, sweetie,” she chuckled.</p> <p id="p0064-01-0"><a id="page61"/>“When I’m coming home from school, Grandma, I smell the good smells coming from here and I run even faster,” Kevin said.</p> <p id="p0064-01-1" style="margin-top:2em;">The next day, as Kevin walked onto the Tubman campus, a girl with cornrow braids said to him, “Hey, you really run fast. You’re fun to watch.”</p> <p id="p0064-01-2">“You must have seen me yesterday,” Kevin replied. A small group of Tubman students watched yesterday’s trial race.</p> <p id="p0064-01-3">“Yeah, you blew away the competition,” the girl said. “Hey, I’m Carissa Polson. I think we’re in the same speech class.</p> <p id="p0064-01-4">Just then Grandpa’s old pickup truck came rolling up to Tubman. Grandma was driving. “Hey Twister,” she called. “You got out so fast this morning you clean forgot your lunch.”</p> <p id="p0064-01-5">Kevin ran to the cab and got the brown bag from his grandmother. “Thanks, Grandma. Sorry you had to come over here.”</p> <p id="p0065-01-0"><a id="page62"/>“I’m going to the supermarket anyways,” Grandma said, waving from the cab of the pickup as she drove off.</p> <p id="p0065-01-1">“That your grandma, huh?” Carissa inquired. </p> <p id="p0065-01-2">“Yeah. She brought my lunch. I forgot it this morning.”</p> <p id="p0065-01-3">“She called you Twister. What’s that about?” Carissa asked.</p> <p id="p0065-01-4">“Texas tornadoes are called twisters. My mom gave me that nickname ’cause I’m so fast,” Kevin explained.</p> <p id="p0065-01-5">“That’s cool,” Carissa commented. “You sure ran like a tornado yesterday. We’re having a meet against Lincoln pretty soon. We always get buried. But if you run like I saw you, we maybe got a chance to get some points. That would be so amazing.”</p> <p id="p0065-01-6">“I’ll try,” Kevin promised. Carissa was really cute. She had a dazzling smile and big brown eyes. If Kevin were not avoiding getting involved with anybody, he would have talked a little longer. But he smiled and headed for English.</p> <p id="p0066-01-0"><a id="page63"/>Carissa said to his back, “I’m glad you came to Tubman, Twister. You make it more exciting around here.”</p> <p id="p0066-01-1">Kevin practiced hard with the Tubman track team. Back in Spurville, practice was held on the blacktop of the school parking lot. Most of the other members of the Spurville team were really poor, but Kevin learned the basics. He learned how to breathe deeply and smoothly and how to pace himself.</p> <p id="p0066-01-2">Other than Kevin, only three boys on the Tubman team were good runners. Marko Lane was good, and so was Trevor Jenkins. The third boy was a gangly kid named Matson Malloy. Coach Curry planned to build the team around these four boys.</p> <p id="p0066-01-3">“You guys will be in the relay team when we go against Lincoln,” Curry explained. “You’ve all had some experience in running relays, and you know how important coordination is. The last time we ran in a relay match, we got hammered because one of the guys fumbled the baton handoff. That killed us. To be more specific, Marko, you dropped the ball that day.”</p> <p id="p0067-01-1"><a id="page64"/>Trevor and Matson laughed a little, but Kevin kept a straight face. He didn’t want to antagonize Marko.</p> <p id="p0067-01-2">“Of the four of you, I’ve got to pick the fastest guy to be the anchor running the final lap. From what I’ve seen over these practice days, my job is easy. I’m giving the anchor position to Kevin Walker,” Curry announced. </p> <p id="p0067-01-3">“Hey Coach,” Marko spoke up, “I can help the team a lot as anchor. I’m much better than I was that day against Garfield. I really think I’ve earned—” </p> <p id="p0067-P-1">“Walker is going to anchor the team,” Coach Curry said.</p> <p id="p0067-01-4">Kevin could feel Marko’s resentment burning against him. He ignored it as Coach Curry started practice. The trial relay would be run with Trevor leading off, Marko doing the second lap, Matson the third, and Kevin doing the final lap. Coach Curry stood watching as the team took off. Trevor ran a good first lap, ahead of his usual time, and he passed the baton smoothly to Marko. Marko ran his lap better than anything he had done before, putting the team ahead of its best time. But then the baton was bobbled between Marko and Matson, almost falling to the ground. A groan went up from the little group of students watching.</p> <p id="p0068-01-1"><a id="page65"/>“Idiot!” Marko hissed at Matson, who looked stricken. Matson managed to recover the baton and run a fair lap, but the team was well behind its best time now. By the time Matson passed the baton to Kevin, the practice run was clearly going terribly. But then, baton in hand, Kevin burned up the track. In the final push, Kevin’s arms were pumping like a machine, and his body was a blur. Kevin made up the lost seconds and sailed over the finish line with a torrid time of 46 seconds. An awed silence followed, then an explosion of cheers. The spectators screamed and jumped up and down. The chant went up quickly.</p> <p id="p0069-01-0"><a id="page66"/>“Twist-er! Twist-er! Twist-er!”</p> <p id="p0069-01-1">Matson Malloy came over to Kevin and said, “You’re the man.” Trevor gave Kevin a high five. Coach Curry was grinning widely, “That was some show, boy. You are greased lightning. I don’t know what possessed your family to send you to Tubman, but I owe them!” Curry beamed, slapping Kevin on the back.</p> <p id="p0069-01-2">Marko Lane was a lonely figure standing by himself. He was a good runner. Before Kevin came, he was the best of the Tubman Titans. Whatever successes the team had they owed to him. Coach Curry often said that, if the rest of the team was as good as Marko, they would win some meets. But now, suddenly, it looked like the team had found a star who could lift them to a winning and maybe even a championship season.</p> <p id="p0069-01-3">Slowly, Marko approached Kevin. “You think you’re the big dog now, don’t you? You think you’ve chased old Marko Lane out of the ’hood, don’t you? Well, listen up, this is only the beginning,” he warned.</p> <p id="p0070-01-0"><a id="page67"/>“I’m sorry nobody ever taught you sports-manship,” Kevin replied. “We’ve got to work together, not against each other if we’re going to be any good.”</p> <p id="p0070-01-1">But Marko was already gone, in search of Matson Malloy. “Hey freak,” he said bitterly, giving Matson a nasty shove. “I passed the baton cleanly and you fumbled it. What are you, stupid? A monkey could have grabbed the baton, but you’re not as smart as a monkey. What are you doing on the team anyway? You’re a freak, you know that?”</p> <p id="p0070-01-2">Matson stood there, shaken. He was a gaunt, nervous boy who had never excelled in anything. But now he was a pretty good runner and he was getting better. Coach Curry was bringing him along, and the coaching was showing results. In recent weeks he had gained speed and confidence. Until today, Matson was feeling a little better about himself.</p> <p id="p0070-01-3">Kevin watched the ugly scene unfolding. The old rage he felt at the sight of a bully in action was roused again in his heart. He wanted to go over there and deck Marko, to push his face into the dirt. But he knew that would get him thrown off the team, and it wouldn’t do Matson any good either. So Kevin just stood there until Marko had spent his fury.</p> <p id="p0071-01-1"><a id="page68"/>Matson sat down on a tree trunk where a big eucalyptus had been sawed down. His head was bowed.</p> <p id="p0071-01-2">Kevin walked over and stooped near the other boy. “Hey man, it’s easy to bobble the baton,” he told the boy.</p> <p id="p0071-01-3">“Nah, it was my fault,” Matson whined. “Lane was right. I’m a stupid idiot. I’m a jackass.” His voice was raw and wounded.</p> <p id="p0071-01-4">“Matson, did you ever hear of Wilma Rudolph?” Kevin asked.</p> <p id="p0071-01-5">“Oh sure. She was a legend. When I joined the track team, I read all about the great runners. She won an Olympic gold medal. She was beautiful too,” Matson said.</p> <p id="p0071-01-6">“Do you think Wilma Rudolph ever bobbled the baton during a relay race, Matson?” Kevin asked.</p> <p id="p0072-01-0"><a id="page69"/>Matson shook his head vigorously. “No way! Not her. She was one of the best. Only dumb idiots like me fumble the baton.” Matson was parroting Marko’s cruel insults, believing them himself. Kevin figured this wasn’t the first time somebody had told Matson he was stupid and clumsy. He had probably gotten that message most of his life.</p> <p id="p0072-01-1">“The Olympics, nineteen-sixty, in Rome,” Kevin started. “The big relay race was on. Wilma and her three teammates were running for the United States against Russia. Everything was going great until Wilma fumbled the baton. Almost dropped it. Yeah, she did, Matson. But she was the anchor. So she ran the final lap with incredible speed and won the gold medal for the team.”</p> <p id="p0072-01-2">“She . . . she was a champion. Champions don’t fumble the baton,” Matson protested, his eyes wide.</p> <p id="p0072-01-3">“Yeah, she did. We all do. But we learn from it and we go on. You’ll learn from it and next time you’ll be much better. You might even help Tubman win a meet down the road man,” Kevin said.</p> <p id="p0073-01-1"><a id="page70"/>A slow grin came to Matson’s face. “Hey Twister,” he said, “you’re all right.”</p> <p id="p0073-01-2">“You’re all right too, Matson,” Kevin came back, high-fiving the other boy.</p> <p id="p0073-01-3">As Kevin was heading for the street and the jog home, Carissa came along. She had obviously been waiting for him to finish talking to Matson. “That was the most exciting relay race I’ve ever seen,” she said. “It looked dismal and you pulled it off. So tell me about yourself, Kevin. Are your parents good at sports? Do you have brothers and sisters in sports? I mean, I just want to know everything.”</p> <p id="p0073-01-4">“I’m an only child, and my parents never got into sports,” Kevin offered, hoping that closed the door to any more questions about him.</p> <p id="p0073-01-5">“So how did you get into running?” Carissa asked.</p> <p id="p0073-01-6">“I don’t know. It’s fun. I’ve always done it. I guess I never stopped,” Kevin said. “Don’t you run?”</p> <p id="p0074-01-0"><a id="page71"/>“I used to, as a kid,” Carissa answered. “I guess I stopped when I was ten or something. It didn’t seem cool. I mean, now if I see somebody running, I think they stole something, and in a minute I’ll see a clerk or the cops after them. I guess you come from a small town in Texas, but we’re near a big city and we got a lot of gangs and crime.”</p> <p id="p0074-01-1">“Well, I jog home from school, and I run across some fields, and it’s nice. I even get to see the wildflowers. Running is great, it really is. Back home, my health teacher, she said that when you run for fifteen or twenty minutes, your body produces something called . . . uh, endo . . . uh, endorphins. Yeah, and they make you feel good. It’s like some guys do drugs for that feeling, but you can get it just from running.”</p> <p id="p0074-01-2">“Wow, that’s really cool!” Carissa exclaimed. “I’ve never heard that before. Like when you’re depressed you can just run it off.” </p> <p id="p0074-01-3">“Something like that,” Kevin nodded. “Well, gotta get home. See you tomorrow, Carissa.”</p> <p id="p0075-01-0"><a id="page72"/>Kevin was a little late getting home and his grandmother was worried. “You got that cell phone, boy. It ain’t just for tweedling or twirping or whatever you kids do. It’s also for calling your grandma and putting her mind at ease,” Grandma chided.</p> <p id="p0075-01-1">“Sorry, Grandma. We had track practice and I did really well. Then this girl stopped me and we got to talking. I lost track of time,” Kevin explained.</p> <p id="p0075-01-2">“This girl was Alonee? The girl you mentioned?” Grandma asked.</p> <p id="p0075-01-3">“No this girl’s name is Carissa,” Kevin replied.</p> <p id="p0075-01-4">“Carissa,” Grandpa said, repeating the name. “Boy has been in school a coupla weeks and already he’s got Alonee and Carissa. You’re doing okay boy.” Grandpa finished his crossword puzzle. He always used to do them in ink. Lately he was using pencil. Now he chuckled, “Lena, we got us a boy who is attracting the ladies.”</p> <p id="p0076-01-0"><a id="page73"/>“Well Kevin, you are a fine looking boy,” Grandma said, “and if you run as good here as you did back home, you might end up being a big sports star, and then the girls will be wanting your autograph.”</p> <p id="p0076-01-1">“Well, I haven’t helped my team win a meet yet, but we’ve got one coming up against Lincoln in a few weeks. Coach Curry thinks I can compete in the hundred meters and the relay race. If we get enough points, Tubman can win for the first time in ages,” Kevin said.</p> <p id="p0076-01-2">“Your father was good in sports, you know,” Grandpa said. “He was on his way to being world champion.”</p> <p id="p0076-01-3">Kevin spun around and stared at his grandfather. “Say what?” </p> <p id="p0076-P-1">Grandma glared at Grandpa. Her look said, “We don’t talk about that man around here. Our daughter married a troubled man, and we don’t heap praise on his head in this house. We don’t even mention him.”</p> <p id="p0077-01-0"><a id="page74"/>But the words were out. They could not be called back.</p> <p id="p0077-01-1">Grandpa shrugged. He was sorry. But it was too late.</p> <p id="p0077-01-2">“Grandpa, what are you talking about?” Kevin demanded, going to the old man’s chair and standing in front of him. “Nobody ever told me this before. My father was on his way to becoming world champion in <i>what</i>?” </p> <p id="p0077-01-3">Grandma shook her head. “Well, since the cat has jumped out of the bag—thanks to you, old man—we got no choice but to talk about the thing,” Grandma conceded.</p> <p id="p0077-01-4">“He was a fighter, a boxer,” Grandpa explained. “He was a light heavyweight. He was just a boy when he won all these preliminary fights. He was on his way to qualify for the United States Olympic team. . .”</p> </div> </body></html>