Authors: K.M. Malloy
Saturday March 20
, 2010
Population: 404
Golden red sunlight sliced
into the windows of 328
Roanoke Street. The first chirpings of the birds’
s
morning song began to drift through her room, and Aire smiled when she
heard her mother trump half asleep down the stairs to make coffee. She’d been awake for almost two hours now and was glad someone else was finally up so she could wander around the house without worry that she would disturb anyone. Her mother gave her a suspicious look as she bounded down the stairs into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she said as she reached for the orange juice.
“You’re up early,” her mother said, staring at Aire through cocked eyebrows.
“Yep,” she said, and disappeared back up the stairs to the shower.
Aire spent
almost an hour
in the bathroom until she looked perfect. Melissa’s hat idea had been a good one, and she was surprised at how good she looked sporting Troy’s jersey and long pigtails under a ball cap. She usually looked like she was twelve in pigtails, but not today.
Today she looked…beautiful. She smiled at the thought and
leaned in closer to exam herself in the mirror.
Her curves had come in two years ago, but she’d still felt awkward and clunky then. Today she saw the woman within coming through in the mirror
,
her curves more proportional and defined, her face thinner, her cheek bones higher under dark blue eyes painted with a touch of wisdom. She smiled
wide
at the sight of herself as she took one last look in the mirror before turning off the light.
Her face fell when she returned to her room and saw she still had nearly an hour left until Troy and the others would be there to pick her up. She
sighed and picked up her guitar, sitting down in front of the bay window as she began to pluck at the neglected strings. It took her a dozen attempts until she could finally remember the notes to a song she’d written several weeks ago. For a moment she was lost in the music as she closed her eyes and ran her fingers over the strings, listening to the slow melody.
This is a good song
, she thought.
Why don’t they make a machine that lets you listen to people’s
songs from around the world? I’ll ask Troy what he thinks about the idea.
She opened her eyes, the moment of serenity gone. She watched the street below for a few minutes before going back to playing again.
It was perhaps the twenty-seventh time she looked out her window when she finally saw her group rounding the corner.
Her mother didn’t have time to say goodbye as she whizzed by the kitchen and through the front door. Troy laughed at her giddiness as she raced down the stairs to hug him, an exaggerated smile on her face.
“A little excited?
” he asked.
“Just a little,” she said with a laugh. It had become so easy to show her affection now that it felt like second nature. She was suddenly amazed at how shy she had been with him just two short weeks ago.
“Good, me too.”
“Dude, I don’t see why you’re so excited. You should be pretty nervous,” Gary said, smacking Troy on the shoulder as they made their way up the street. “I’m going to take you out today.”
“No offense, but I’m smarter than you. I think I’m going to win by outwitting you.”
“I don’t know,” Melissa said, wrapping both arms around one of Gary’s
biceps
. “He is a lot bigger than you Troy. I think he has the advantage.”
“No way,” Aire said. “It’s all about strategy and reaction time, not just brute strength.”
Playful jesting carried on throughout the morning as the boys shared tools and swapped
parts
. They gave a friendly handshake as the announcer called their heat race
to the starting line
. Troy turned to Aire and smiled.
“Good luck,” she said as she gave him a hug before leaving for the grandstands.
“You are my good luck,” he whispered back.
“Just don’t get hurt,” she said, pulling her face away from his chest. He put his helmet on and nodded. She gave him one more quick squeeze before linking arms with Melissa and trotting into the bleachers.
The Senior Pro track was much longer than
that of
the Pee Wee and Pip Squeak track
s
, and filled with more obstacles and higher jumps. Aire scanned what she could see of the course, and frowned when she saw the final jump before the finish line.
“That jump is way too close to the turn.”
Melissa squinted, holding a hand over her brow to shield the sun from her eyes. “Yeah, it does look a bit close, but I’m sure it’s fine. The track designers know what they’re doing”
“It’s way too close. We should-“
“Look there’s the boys,” Melissa shouted, and pointed at Troy and Gary as they took their places at the starting gate.
Aire waved to them and gave another fretful look at the last jump. She was torn as she stared out at the track.
The jump
was
too close to the turn, but t
hey wouldn’t be able to fix the whole thing in a day anyway, so why ruin the fun?
It will be fine
, she told herself
.
It’s too close to the turn
,
a
little voice
within her
whispered.
Hush it up
, she whispered back.
She felt a soft hand grab her own, interrupting her internal debate.
“This is it,” Melissa shouted over the roaring crowd. “Friends no matter what?”
“Friends no matter what,” she smiled back. “Good luck.”
“You too.”
Aire took a deep breath and crossed her fingers, willing herself to brush her worries aside.
It will be fine
, she told herself.
You’re just nervous, that’s all. It’s fine.
It’s too close to the-
The sound level boomed again as the racers took off. Gary was entangled by the inevitable first turn pile up, but Troy took the hole-shot and easily swooped past th
e accident. Ripping his bike fro
m the tangled pile of limbs, metal and plastic, Gary jumped on the kick start and smashed down on the throttle. He gained momentum in the straight away and reached the pack leaders, tying with Troy for first
as
they
rounded the pond and
disappeared into the woods. Melissa and Aire squeezed each other’s hand and chewed their nails as they listened to the commentary of the boys’
s
battle for first.
“Rounding the fourth turn its number seventeen, Troy Culver
,
leading by a nose for first,” the announcer, Brad O’Connor, shouted at breakneck speed into the microphone. “And into the first triple jump number thirteen, Gary Owens, nails the landing and takes the lead from Culver. The two are tied for first, Culver gets the hole-shot on turn five and takes the lead, into the straight away Owens takes first again. They’re coming up to the second triple, Owens gains a half a length on Culver, and into turn six Culver takes the lead again! Ladies and gentlemen we have an epic battle for first going on here in one of the most exciting J.P. races I have ever seen! Tailing Culver and Owens by an incredible ten second lag is Polanski for third, chased by Lanning in fourth, leading by two lengths in front of Amos and Sanders for fifth and sixth. Our pack leaders are approaching the clearing neck and neck for first with a spectacular fifteen second lead! This is motocross at its finest ladies and gentlemen as we watch the wolves fight for
the lead of the pack
.”
Troy and Gary emerged from the woods, their front wheels inching back and forth for first place. Aire and Melissa jumped from their seats and threw their fists into the air as the boys drew closer to the finish line.
“There they are,” they shouted in unison.
Still neck and neck with the finish line fast approaching, Gary and Troy became more ferocious in their competition as they neared the end of the race. Gary used his
massive frame to do everything he could to run Troy off course, and the latter couldn’t afford to make a single mistake.
It was Gary’s size and more aggressive nature that caused him to falter. He’d been so focused on off-setting Troy that he wasn’t paying attention to a series of ruts in the road ahead. The first dip caused his front tire to shake, and the second set him so off balance that the bike toppled to the ground before he could correct the path. Aire let out a cheer as Troy soared into the lead.
Troy was in the home stretch now. A good hundred yards straight away loomed ahead of him and he up-shifted to let the bike fly at full throttle. Just before the final jump, he slowed his speed so as not to overshoot it, and sailed through the air for a perfect landing. Aire smiled as she watched what would be his sure victory, until Melissa’s wail screeched in her ear.
“Yeah! Go Gary!”
Aire turned to see Gary flying down the straight away. She grabbed Melissa’s hand and shouted as loud as she could. “He has to slow down or he’ll land in the turn.”
Hands over her mouth, Aire watched in horror as Gary overshot the jump, sailing past the too short straight away after the jump and over the hay bales marking the track. Troy rounded
the final turn, Gary’s shadow
fast approaching.
He
saw the shadow just before Gary’s bike
flew into him,
and dropped his head to avoid the other boy from landing flat on him. He’d turned the wrong way, and the foot peg of Gary’s bike caught Troy’s neck just below the helmet. The impact of the peg ripped Troy from his bike and the helmet from his head as he crashed hard into the far side of the embankment. Gary’s handlebars and front tire snapped off at the awkward angle of the landing as he hit the dirt. His body was catapulted off the track as his bike launched towards the stands
and crashed into the safety fence
. Aire’s ears were deaf to the
screams
of the crowd as she ran down the bleachers.
Pushing past the other spectators and jumping over the fence, Aire sprinted across the
dusty
field towards Troy. He was sprawled in the dirt on his stomach when she squatted down next to him. Tears filled her eyes when she saw the blood pulsing from the back of his head.
“Troy,” she said, her voice cracked and uneven.
He gave a slight groan and rolled over to look at her, a dazed expression on his face. “Aire?”
She smiled, and a tear slipped down her cheek
as she scooped up his shoulders to cradle him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
His body shook as he sat up and clutched
the back of his head. “Gary, how is Gary?”
Aire peeked over the edge of the embankment where a crowd was gathered. She couldn’t see him, but she could hear Gary calling out numbers and body parts to Dr. Caughlin as the other racers reached the scene and killed their engines. She looked back to Troy and nodded. “He’s beat up, but I think he’ll be okay.”
“Good. I want water,” Troy said. “Can you grab my helmet? I’m sure someone will pick up my bike for me.”
“Sure.”
The helmet rested upside down a good fifteen feet from the track. It’s once shiny orange and black surface was now powdered in dust, and sticky brownish-maroon mud was plastered in sporadic clumps over the eagle design. She could feel the vomit rise in her throat when she was close enough to see a chunk of Troy’s scalp sticking to the back of it where the peg had made contact. She covered her mouth with one hand as she bent down, and reached shakily with the other to pick up the helmet an arm’s length away. She gagged as her fingers pinched around some of the blond hair still connected in the chunk of flesh clinging to the base of the helmet. Swallowing the rising bile, she was about to flick the small pile of human mess to the ground when she saw something glinting inside of it. Distracted from the putridness of
it
, she pulled it close to her face to examine it. Sticking out of the wad of flesh and hair
was a small, tube like piece of metal and glass no larger than a grain of rice. Her fingers wrapped around the tiny thing and pulled it from the hunk of scalp. She flicked the remaining flesh to the ground where it landed with a sick splat in the dirt, sending up a miniature dust cloud around it. She shoved the object into her pocket while pretending to wipe the dirt from the rest of the helmet. She brushed her hands on her jeans as she stood up, and went back to Troy, leaning down so he could throw his arm around her neck.