Chapter 25
Mr. B. called us to the gym for a quick meeting after school. He wore green pants, a blue shirt, and matching blue shoes. He looked like the earth, and probably got the ocean-to-land ratio about right. I agreed with Sofia. I preferred his colourful outfits to the boring jeans and T-shirt.
I dodged the younger kids, and walked over to stand with the twins. We weren’t talking for long, when Mr. B. whistled with his fingers.
“All right, gang. The race schedule is being passed around, so make sure you take one. Tomorrow is The Show, and I want everyone to have pasta for dinner. Ask Mom or Dad real nice, or make it yourselves. I’ve emailed your parents, and we’ve arranged how you’re getting to the meet. You must be there, to warm up, an hour and a half before your race time. I don’t need to remind you, we are a team; there aren’t as many of us, so bring your big loud selves to cheer for each other. Oh, and also, in bed early. Okay, any questions? No? Good. See you tomorrow.”
I picked up my knapsack from between my feet, and was saying bye to the twins, when Mr. B. came up to me.
“How are you feeling, kid?”
“Pretty good. I practised those times again.”
“Oh, nice. And did you have fun at the fair?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I said, adjusting my knapsack on my shoulder. Bird had assured me that Mr. B. hadn’t seen me in my drunken stupor, but I couldn’t be sure he hadn’t heard rumours.
“Great. So, listen, about tomorrow, I don’t want you to put too much pressure on yourself, under the
circumstances.”
“Uh, I’m not,” I said.
“What I mean is, you’ve done great, so just have fun.”
“Okay. Um, I’ve got to go meet my mom. Thanks, Mr. B.,” I said.
“Is she coming tomorrow?” he asked.
“I think so.” I walked toward the door.
“Awesome! We sure enjoy her cheering,” he smiled. Mom cheered for every kid on the team, even if she didn’t know them. I was way past being embarrassed, because so many of them said how nice she was. And she was. She’d always been encouraging, but at the same time, her guttural bellow sounded like she was channelling Darth Vader.
I found Lucas in the playground, and we took the bus to meet Mom at the Running Box. He lit up all over again when he told Mom about his speech being chosen, and she used her track-meet voice to express her excitement.
She didn’t seem to care that we were inside.
When Mom calmed down, she showed me a few pairs of socks she’d been waving around in her hands.
“How about these?” she asked. Mom knew I needed to inspect and feel the fabric, because of her past botched sock purchases. She claimed I was “fussy,” but I just didn’t like how thick or bunchy the socks were that she usually bought. Or worse, how the toe seam would bother me.
“Maybe.” I rubbed them between my fingers, and traced others on the rack. I thought of Dad’s lucky socks that he wore for every meet. I had my lucky shorts, so it wasn’t that different, except that my shorts were always clean.
“Can I go look at running shoes?” Lucas asked, then dropped his knapsack and left before Mom answered. I lifted a mini hanger with a pink pair of socks.
“These feel good.” I handed them to Mom; she checked the price and grabbed another pair.
“Let’s take two. Or do you want another colour?”
“Oh. No, those are good. Shmanks, Mom.”
We went to pay, and it dawned on me that when Mr. B. emailed parents, Mom might’ve written back and told him about the fair.
“Did you email Mr. B.?” I asked, while Mom tapped her credit card on the machine to pay.
“I responded to his email. Why?” She handed me the socks, called Lucas, and we headed out of the store.
“What did you say?” I asked, as we walked along the street to the car.
“Well, when he emailed all the parents about tomorrow, I just wanted him to know you’ve been under some stress.”
“Geez, Mom! Did you tell him about the fair?” I looked around, thinking I was kind of loud.
“Of course not. I didn’t give him specifics.”
“Why did you have to say anything?” I couldn’t believe that she’d even answered him!
“I just thought he’d be sympathetic, if you’re feeling too stressed,” Mom said.
“Oh my God! Too stressed? Like I wouldn’t race?” I asked, clenching the socks in my hand.
“No, of course not,” she said, as we all got in the car.
“Can you two stop arguing?” Lucas asked, and silenced the both of us. I was so annoyed with Mom, but I didn’t know how to work through it. Feelings from the fair, feelings about the race were all jumbled.
“Mr. B. kind of requested your cheering,” I said.
“Oh, great! I’ll have to warm up my voice,” she said.
“Well, I don’t really want you to,” I said, waiting for her reaction.
“You don’t want me warming up?”
“I don’t want you cheering. That deep voice you use is embarrassing.”
“I can use my normal voice.”
“I think it’s good, how loud you can get,” Lucas said.
“And I don’t want you being so loud.”
“All right, honey. I understand.” She reached over and took my hand. “I get you’re nervous.”
“Noooo!” I pulled my hand away. “I just don’t want to hear it, and have it distract me and stress me out even more.”
“Okay,” she said.
I stayed quiet the whole way to the hospital. Mom and Lucas talked about his swimming lesson, and the things he would probably do. I just couldn’t wait to see Dad, and get the pep talk I needed more than ever.
I kept thinking about what had even happened at the store. It felt like one minute, I was picking out socks and feeling good, and within a few seconds, I was mad again. It seemed stupid that Mom emailing Mr. B. flicked a switch that made me want to turn Mom off. It was bad enough Dad couldn’t come to the race, and then I silenced Mom. Mom and her booming voice that made me know she was there, rooting for me. I had missed them both at the East Division meet, and it was going to be the same thing at City Finals. And it was my own fault.