Run to Me (11 page)

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Authors: Erin Golding

BOOK: Run to Me
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‘I’m sure you’re a great wife. He’s lucky to
have you,’ he says before pulling up into a walk, leaving me all alone in the
middle of the lap.

 

***

 

I decide to bludge English on Friday afternoon.
I don’t want to see her; reckon I wouldn’t even be able to look her in the eye.
I was such a sap at training yesterday. I can’t believe I said that about her
bloke being lucky. I mean, come
on
. Geez, could I have laid it on any
thicker? I should have just come right out and asked for a fuck.

I don’t bother telling Matt and Reggie I’m
bludging. Instead, at lunch I say I’m off for a smoke and I just don’t go back.
I hang out round my smoking place in the trees until ten minutes after the
fifth period bell then I jack the hell out of there. I can’t go home because
Mum’s there so I head straight to the skate park. I’m not worried about running
into McFadden at this time of day. I figure while Amanda’s in school he’s
probably off doing some other bird, or down the pub playing pool. Either way,
he won’t be at the skate park for another couple of hours.

As I guessed, the place is deserted when I get
there. Someone has obviously nicked a trolley from the supermarket down the
road and now it’s lying near the ramp with its wheels pointing up, like a dog
playing dead. An overturned bin has spewed rubbish onto the cement and a lone
chip packet is skidding across the ground in the breeze. As I walk past the bin
I get a whiff of rotten banana skins.

I park myself on the edge of the ramp and pull
out my cigs. I turn my head to the side to shield the cig from the wind and,
cupping my hands round my mouth, light up. There’s a discarded soccer ball by
the dumpster and I consider getting up to have a bit of a kick around. I could
use the gap between the trolley and the bin as my goal posts, and see how many
clean shots I can get through there. But it’s no fun on your own, with no one
to defend the ball. It’d be better if Matt was here.

I take an extra long drag on my smoke and think
about the English class. She’s probably asked the boys where I am and only
partially believed their shrugs. I’m glad I didn’t tell them. She would have
seen straight through Matt’s lie and Reggie’s loud mouth might have slagged on
me anyhow. He can’t help himself, Reggie. He’s got to be talking. And half the
time he doesn’t even know what he’s muttering on about. Sometimes I wonder why
I bother being mates with him. But suppose he’s not so bad. Just annoying is
all.

I swap my cig into my left hand and rake my
right through my hair. Matt might be a bit worried about me. He could be
thinking I’m on the toilet with a dodgy stomach or something. Though if he
spends long enough on it he’ll probably realise it’s got something to do with
her. He kept asking me what happened when he left us alone yesterday, but I
just shrugged. I wasn’t about to admit I’d been a world class sap. I’m trying to
forget about it, not give a running commentary. Still, he’ll probably find out
sooner or later. Matt’s a hell of a lot smarter and he’ll find a way to drag it
out of me.

For now though, I don’t want any hassles. I lean
back on the ramp and watch the clouds shoot by above me. Apart from the breeze
knocking that chip packet around it’s fairly quiet here. I try not to think
about her but it’s hard not to. I did like it when we chatted yesterday.
Because up until the lucky remark I’d managed to hold it together, and not look
like a total nut job.

I take a final drag on my smoke and heave the
butt towards the dumpster then I curl my hands behind my head and close my
eyes. Without even trying she wanders into my mind. This time she’s fully
dressed; in her running gear. Her hair is out and she’s brushing it slowly with
a comb. Each stroke is long and deliberate. Her eyes are fixed on me and they
have this kind of curious look in them, like she’s not entirely sure who I am.
After a minute or so she steps forward and drops the comb at her feet.

‘Paul,’ she says, barely a whisper, and cocks
her head to one side.

I’m surprised she’s talking in this one. All the
other fantasies were silent. But I like the way her voice sounds.

‘Paul,’ she says again, this time louder, and
reaches her hand out for me. ‘Come here.’

In real life I’m shaking my head. I can feel my
hair scraping against my fingers.

She starts to pout.

‘Don’t you want me, Paul?’ she asks. ‘I want
you. You know that.
Don’t you?
’ She emphasises the last bit and holds
her arms out for me again. ‘Isn’t it obvious?’

I can hear my own voice now, speaking from the
blackness, like a director behind the camera. ‘Of course I want you. I wanted
to take you right there on the oval yesterday.’

She moves even closer, running her hand over her
right tit and down her body. ‘Take me now,’ she says.

I’m smiling, and nodding, and my pants are
pulling tightly around my crotch. I open my eyes and look down. Sure enough,
I’ve got another mammoth hard-on bulging in my trousers. I sit up and hunch my
shoulders. Not that it matters; there’s no one around anyhow. I shake my head
and curse loudly. I’ve got to get some relief. These fantasies are driving me
nuts. I light another smoke and try to will my boner away. While I was lying down
the breeze picked up and now that empty chip packet comes sailing past my head.
I watch the trees across the road swaying in the wind and as soon as I exhale
the smoke is flipped back around to smother my face. I stand up and shake my
legs. This one didn’t hang around long, but I can still feel my blood pumping
around down there. I’m raring to go. I decide Mum or no Mum, I’ve got to get
home so I can rub one out.

Once my feet are moving, I’m practically running
across the paddock to my place. When I prise open the front door I can hear Mum
nuttering from the kitchen. I pause to see if she is on the phone, or if
somebody is with her. And then I hear it; Tara’s loud horse laugh. That noise
usually grates on me but today I could almost kiss her for being here. Sure
that my Mum is safely distracted, I sneak upstairs and quietly close the bathroom
door. I sit down on the toilet and undo my trousers. Flopping him out, I curl
my fingers into a nice tight hold, close my eyes, and picture her there.

‘Paul,’ she says. ‘Take me now.’

Eight

 

 

At the last running session before the Easter
holidays I take my team off school grounds to a nearby park. They follow me,
eagerly, all smiles and high-fives because they think they’re getting out of
running altogether. It makes my stomach churn to tell them otherwise but I have
a plan and I’m sticking to it.

‘OK everyone,’ I say when we reach the edge of
the park. ‘Now, I know you’re all very excited about the prospect of bludging
sport this afternoon, but unfortunately that’s not why we’re here.’

Melanie and Sarah both let out a groan. And a
few of the boys shake their heads in disgust.

‘It’s not that bad. What I wanted to do was give
you the opportunity to practice on something other than grass.’ I point to the
gravel track that leads off to my left. ‘This track encircles the entire park,
which I’ve calculated to be about five kilometres in total.’

‘So we just do half, right?’ asks Melanie.

I smile. ‘Of course not. You can do the five
today, Melanie.’

She turns to Sarah and they both shrug.

‘Now, the way it’s going to work is you’ll all
head off to the left, and I’ll head to the right. No bludging,’ I say with a
smile to the boys. ‘If I don’t run into you somewhere along the track, I’ll be
issuing detentions. I expect us to cross paths and meet back here before I let
you off.’    

I turn to Paul and Matt who are lounging on the
grass. As usual, Paul’s eyes are already on me.

‘This is a chance for you both to do a full ten
kilometres, if you’re up to it.’

‘Sure thing,’ says Paul with a broad smile. Matt
looks suitably unimpressed.

I clap loudly. ‘OK. Let’s go people.’

I wait to make sure they all get started and
then I peel off in the opposite direction. I’m used to running solo, so it
feels great to be on my own again. The slight breeze whips at my hair and I can
feel the autumn chill in the air. I take a deep breath and slip into a steady
pace. I don’t have my iPod so I focus on all the individual sounds in the park:
the gravel scrunching under my feet, kids laughing, a dog yapping.

When I round the first corner I come upon a
large open space, covered in freshly-mown grass. A woman dressed in an
oversized trench coat is throwing a ball to the yapping dog. It’s a pug with
black and white markings and every time the woman threatens to chuck the ball,
the little dog barks and barks. The shrill noise seems to echo all around the
park, even though there are no walls; only trees surround us in their varying
sizes. Still, the bark floats back to me on the breeze. As I’m passing by, the
ball is clipped towards me and the dog comes hurtling after it. His legs are so
small it looks like they are swallowed up by the grass and he is bouncing along
on his stomach. The ball goes flying past me and so does the dog. I almost stop
to play with him but then I remember that, technically, I’m working right now.

I follow the track over a slight hill where it
curves round to the right. Now I tune out the external noise and listen to my
breathing. It’s still loose and relaxed because I haven’t really pushed myself
yet. I want to take it nice and easy today. I focus on the in and out, trying
to fill my lungs completely and holding on for a couple of seconds before
exhaling. When I do this, I feel that groggy high in my head; the oxygen
overload.

I keep my legs pumping and look down at my feet.
I remember during my first half-marathon I did this same thing. It helped
somehow; watching the rhythmic steps, knowing that as long as I didn’t think
about stopping my legs would continue to move. It helped not to think at all. I
prefer to fall into a kind of meditative state, like I’m having some
out-of-body experience. But I can’t do that today. I’ve got to keep an eye out
for my students.

 Sure enough, when I round the next curve I see
them moving towards me. Paul is out front, of course, with Matt right alongside
him. I can tell from their strides that they haven’t even begun to tire yet. Even
Becky is doing well; keeping up with Pete and Joey in the middle of the pack, unlike
Melanie and Sarah who are pulling up the rear. They are a good hundred metres
behind the rest of my team and their feet are barely off the ground; each step
is a drag of gravel and dirt.

‘Keep going, keep at it,’ I yell to them as I
get closer.

‘Hey, Miss,’ says Paul.

I catch his smile out the corner of my eye as he
and Matt sail past me. I give a half-hearted wave, instead focussing my
attention on the two girls.

‘Come on Melanie. Let’s go Sarah. Pick up those
feet.’

‘Yeah, ok, Mrs Fox,’ says Sarah lazily.

I just shake my head and continue on. It doesn’t
matter what I do, those two are about as interested in running as the boys are
interested in
Wuthering
Heights
. I may as well focus on the ones
that do care, like Paul. He really is a strong runner. And he wants to be here.
Watching the way he pushes himself every week, and does the circuits without
complaint, makes me feel good. I’ve actually managed to motivate him.

Although the driving force is probably that
little crush of his, rather than my stunning motivational skills. I thought it
would have petered out by now, that he would have gotten sick of me. But I
still often catch him staring. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being
self-absorbed. Maybe he’s like this with all the female teachers? He did make
that surprising comment about Luke being lucky to have me. That was strange. I
wonder what he meant by that? Probably wanted my attention. And here I am
running along thinking about him. Just what he was hoping for.

 I shove Paul out of my mind as I step it up for
the final leg of this first lap. Ahead, a man pushing a pram stops at one of
the wooden benches that line the track and eases himself onto the seat. The
child looks barely a year old, and is fast asleep under a white crocheted
blanket. As I draw near the man smiles and nods hello. I wave back. After I
pass, I turn my head and see him bend down over the pram and tentatively tuck
the blanket tighter around the baby’s chest. The sight brings a wave of nausea
over me. Luke will never be that guy.

I wonder if Luke considers himself lucky anymore.
There were moments of that when we were first together but eventually life got
in the way. I’m sure there have been times over the years when he has wished
he’d never met me. It’s not nice to think about, but I know it’s probably true;
I’ve had those thoughts myself. Especially over the last two years when he has
been so reluctant to compromise. How did we get to this point? That’s what
baffles me.

I get back to the starting point before the rest
of my team, so I pull up and lean against a bench. I lay one hand on my stomach
and focus on my breathing to try and force my problems with Luke out of my
mind. People are always reminding me that it does no good mulling over things.
Usually I hate having to heed their advice but even I can recognise that this
isn’t the time or place. Besides, I wouldn’t want to break down in front of my
students.

Paul and Matt are the first to race towards me.
The second half seems to have tired Matt; there are patches of sweat all over
his T-shirt. I’m surprised; it’s only been five kilometres.

‘Are you OK, Matt?’ I ask as he stops next to me
and leans over. His breathing is heavy and laboured.

‘Nope,’ he wheezes. ‘I just can’t do it today.
I’m really tired.’

‘Sit down. Breath deeply.’

I sit on the grass with Matt while the others
filter in one by one.

‘What’s wrong with him?’ asks Sarah in her own
wheezing voice.

‘Nothing. He’s fine. Are you OK?’

‘Sure, Miss,’ she says before doing an elaborate
collapse onto the bench. Melanie follows suit and they both dissolve in laughter.

‘I’m OK Miss’ says Matt, giving me a crooked
smile. ‘But I’m done.’

‘OK.’

I look at Paul, who all this time has been
pacing up and down in an attempt to keep his heart rate up.

‘You’re good for another lap?’ I ask him.

He just nods.

I stand up. ‘Who wants to go again?’

Melanie and Sarah shake their head vigorously,
but Pete and Joey say yes.

‘All right. Those of you who have had enough can
just wait for us here. It’s too early for me to dismiss you.’ I bend down to
Matt again. ‘Sure you’re OK?’

He wipes his still sweating face with his shirt.

‘Yep,’ he nods.

‘OK. Come on guys.’ I motion for them to follow
me and take off the way they came. I figure it’s better to stick together this
time, so I can make sure none of them are struggling. Running solo might not
have been my best idea today.

I steady myself into my most comfortable stride
and Paul wastes no time in pulling up alongside me.

‘Can I run with you, Miss?’ he says.

I turn my head and he is smiling at me. A wide,
welcoming, happy-go-lucky smile that takes over his whole face. Even his eyes
are smiling, if that’s possible. I nod my head yes, but I don’t smile back.

 

***

 

‘So what are you doing over the holidays, Miss?’
I ask as we break away from the rest of the pack.

‘I’m not sure. Lesson planning mostly.’

‘Great,’ I say sarcastically, but she still
doesn’t crack a smile.

‘And what about you, Paul? What will you be
doing?’

‘Your English assignment of course.’

That’s got her. I see her lips start to curve.

‘Aside from that.’

‘Just hanging out I guess.’

‘Your family isn’t going away at all?’

I can’t help but scoff at this.

‘Nope. We don’t do that.’

She looks at me for a long moment and I can
almost see the question marks in her eyes.

I shrug. ‘The Chief doesn’t like travelling.’

Now the marks are flashing neon red.

‘The Chief?’

‘My father.’

‘You call him The Chief?’

‘Yep. Because he’s most definitely in charge.’

‘Ohh.’

She turns away and focuses on the path ahead. I
want to change the subject so she can’t probe any deeper, but she’s talking
again before I have a chance to.

‘Is everything OK at home, Paul?’

I groan. ‘Nope. But there’s nothing to talk
about.’

I can see her looking at me, probably wondering
whether to just drop it or not. This time I don’t let the moment rush past.

‘So have you been travelling? Like overseas, I
mean?’

She takes a minute to respond.

‘Why do you want to know these things about me?’

I laugh. I can’t tell her the real reason so I
say ‘Just making conversation, Miss.’

‘Hmm,’ she says and we run along in silence for
a few minutes. I try not to watch her chest bobbing up and down and I try to
ignore the honeycomb smell that wafts over to me whenever the breeze picks up.
But I can’t stand it forever and after a bit I turn to look at her. She must
see me move because she looks at me too. I raise my eyebrows and she surprises
me by smiling.

‘OK,’ she says. ‘I’ve been to Europe. Paris, London, Berlin. All those big cities.’

As she’s talking my knee starts to twinge. I
silently curse it and kick my leg out but it’s too late, it seizes up and I
buckle over.

‘Paul? What’s wrong?’ she says, pulling up with
me.

‘My knee. It’s seizing up.’

I bend and rub it with both my hands.

‘You should sit down.’

‘No. I’ve got to walk it out. It always fixes
it.’

She looks back to wave Pete and Joey on ahead of
us.

‘Keep on it, boys,’ she yells. ‘I’ll stay with
Paul.’

They breeze past us. She turns to me with a look
of pity.

‘It’s OK, Miss. I just need a few minutes.’

I straighten up and start walking. My knee is on
fire but the movement isn’t so bad. I look at her and smile so she thinks I’m
all right.

‘So Paris and Berlin huh?’ I ask. ‘When was
that?’

She pushes her hair behind her ears and gives me
this look, like she’s fed up with me.

‘You ask a lot of questions.’

‘So?’

She laughs. ‘There’s another one.’

I laugh too, and shrug my shoulders. ‘What’s
wrong with questions?’

‘Nothing, I suppose. It’s good to challenge
people.’

I raise my eyebrows. ‘I challenge you?’

She hesitates and then looks away. I swear I
catch a glimpse of red on her cheeks.

‘I went overseas before I met my husband,’ she
says, without looking back.

I’m still smiling about the challenge remark
when she turns her face to stare straight ahead. I wipe it off quick.

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