Ready or Not

The school bus was full of bedlam as it neared the main stop and young adults all around Ben were starting to stand up even before the bus came to a full stop. It was school sports day and he was miserable. His body was not that of an athlete but a smallish stocky boy who would rather take the rubbish bins out than run 5 mile till he vomited up his lunch, so as a direct result, he was picked on for his size and weight and that made him very sad and always last to sign up for anything.

He stood up at the right time for the bus driver to scream at every one to sit back down till the bus came to a full stop, so down he sat with his school bag at his feet, and his enthusiasm for the sports day just a little lower than that.

“Hey BUM ... you going in the 40 yard dash for fat guys today or what?” laughed the school’s number one track and field runner as he turned his back on Ben and slide down the bus seat in between two adoring young ladies.

Ben wasn’t happy.

Just once he wished he was good at something - something other than beating up computer images or racing middle earth creatures to find the lost what ever.

There had to be something he was good at??

Now the bus had stopped and of course, he was one of the last out of the bus. As soon as his feet hit the ground, and the glare of the bright sunshine bounced off his school hat and made his brow glisten with sweat, he knew it was going to be all bad. Slowly he trudged his way to the school lockers and commenced to open his locker when the niggling started again. By this time his locker was open and he was staring into the eyes of a picture of his Dad that was taken before Ben was born. He was dressed in his running clothes with a gold medal around his neck from some competition that he’d won. Ben slammed his bag into the locker and shut the lock grabbing only the books needed for the first of his classes as there were none after third period as the sports day took over then. Math, Science and Social Science was all he had to sit through before getting ready for what ever hell he would be was asked to compete in started.

The morning flew and it was in no time flat he was in the boy’s changing room with his sports bag and dejected outlook, as he changed into his sports clothes. The changing room smelt of stale sweat and testosterone - if that really has a smell. Well, he could smell it. He lent down and tied up his plain running shoes and once at this eye level he could see other guys slipping into their very expensive running shoes and clothing from the trendiest clothing outlets. All he had were his five dollar specials!

Ben’s Dad had been killed by a reckless youthful driver while he was running around the block near his home. His Mum was only in the early stages of her pregnancy with Ben and since that day it had never been an easy life for Ben or his mother. It seemed they only just got by ... and yet, Ben found himself quite proud of his five dollar specials.

The sports teacher blew a whistle in the changing room that echoed all over the school and made every one jump and stand up to attention...

“Alright men, file out to the court yard in front of the admin block and form a line of two, and wait for me there” yelled the sports teacher. He was a ex special armed services army man who enjoyed inflicting rigorous and intensive training on all the pupils but he it seemed that he took special delight in tormenting Ben, often to the point of tears. Ben hated him. No matter how hard he tried, Ben couldn’t seem to be anything other than a set back to the entire sports program in the eyes of this sports teacher John Derks.

Being last again out of the changing room did not go well for Ben as Derks saw him leave and blew his whistle inches from his left ear and screamed...“Come on Maitland get the lead out”

The ringing in his left ear did not go away till some hours later and already, Ben just wanted to curl up and die somewhere quiet, away from the maniacal rantings of this nasty sports teacher.

But that wasn’t to be.

Ben’s mother had made his running pants from pants his father had worn as a young man. They had a string tie to fasten them around his waist so Ben checked his string tie and looked down at his feet to make sure his laces were tied up secure. All was fastened and ready.

Ben could see all the young ladies running down to the sports ground ahead of his fellow classmates, each with different coloured ribbons attached to their t-shirts to separate their ‘school house’ colours and give the sports day a feel of Olympic tradition.

Derks bellowed at the line of young men before him as if they were going to board a ship to fight a battle in Vietnam and he walked up and down the lines screaming at them to perform to their best ability and all would be okay.

Ben looked straight into his eyes as he walked past and thought he saw Derks sneer at him as if he knew something Ben didn’t. Here it comes thought Ben...“Ok men! First line will do cross country finishing the end of the race on the sports ground in front of the Mums and Dads and girlies. The second line will be confined to field events ... shot put, high jump and hurdles. ANY QUESTIONS???”

Ben wanted to take one step back into line two and almost did when Derks wasn’t looking but Derks had seen Ben and already knew which line he was in...the cross country line. With both lines walking in perfect time to the sports ground Ben wondered if he could ask to go the toilet and stay there for the day and miss running all over the state for no dam reason.

The grounds were full of parents wearing different colours befitting the house colours of their children ... the impending sportsmen and women...“Right men, cross country over here and make your way to the starting position. You too Maitland!”said the sports coach as some of the others laughed at this request. Ben was last to line up as the overhead speaker announced the start of the race .... “LADIES AND GENTLEMEN WELCOME TO THE FIRST HEAT OF THE DAY. THE MEN’S CROSS COUNTRY RACE”

It’s a distance of 6 kilometres, with the race ending in a 100 metre dash to the finish line. Right here in front of us – where the race starts. Runners are now under starter’s orders, the loud speakers echoed over the entire school and surrounding hillsides.

Ben just looked at the starter holding his starter’s gun and wished he would put Ben out of his misery right there and then ...

“TO THE LINE GENTLEMAN”

Ben walked up and looked toward the stands and saw no one he knew watching him or waving to encourage him on. He did see Derks waving at him and laughing and so his heart sank even further.

“TAKE YOUR MARKS”..........Ben leaned forward in the ‘go’ position and stared at the ground and his shadow. At least his shadow would be right there with him the whole way round this horrible track and funnily he found some sort of comfort in that knowledge.

BANG!!!!

Off he jumped with the rest of them and the stadium cheered, not for Ben, but for all of them. All at once the group broke into two separate packs. The fast runners took to the course like gazelles in flight from a lioness with Ben naturally finding himself in the second pack of slower runners. They made it to the bush area at the foot of a slow rising hill and that’s when Ben knew he would struggle to keep up ... even with these slower runners.

And so it was. Ben was coming in last and his poor body was aching from the distance and punishment the track had dished out. He had walked some of the way up the hill and delighted in the slow trot down the other side to the flat area and surrounding dams with rotting trees standing guard in them.

Maybe a dip in the dam would cool me off and make me run better he thought as he jogged past the last one. Doubling back and taking off his runners he lay down in the water and at once felt better about the fact that he’d be finishing last. Then realising he had better get a move on he left the water and didn’t spend as much time doing up his shoe laces as he should have, or re-doing the tie in his running shorts.

The end of the course was in sight now and Ben lumbered into the sports ground. Derks was waiting at the finish line and holding a stopwatch taking glances down the track to see Ben struggling to finish the course.

“I MUST FINISH THE COURSE”, Ben thought.

He sensed that one of his shoe laces was falling open slightly and then it began smacking Ben’s other leg as he ran.

“CANT STOP”, Ben muttered to himself .

String tie in pants loosens.

“MY SIDES ARE KILLING ME.”

Finish line in sight.

His shoe lace is fully undone now and for the first time, Ben realises something is wrong with his shoe and panic sets in. Then he hears Derks scream at him...

“COME ON MAITLAND RUN IT HARD AND TRY TO FINISH WITH SOME DIGNITY.”

So with all that he has let in his body he accelerates towards the finish line and at once his shoe leaves his foot ... and his pants begin the slow decline down his lower body.

“CANT STOP”, he thinks.

Just meters from the finish line his pants come down around his knees and trip him up in front of the entire audience of people waiting at the finish line. His head thumps into the ground and for a short time the world becomes groggy and peaceful and very blurry. The sweat from his forehead is now coated in dirt and grass from the sports ground and his eyes focus on a pair of running shoes inches from his nose and a raging voice telling him to get up and finish.

Must be Derks??

Ben waited till he could focus again before trying to stand and wondered why no one else had come to his aid apart from the man screaming at him to finish. Once on his knees with his pants around his ankles, he did his best to stand up and retrieve them and tie them tightly. Ben didn’t care about his shoe at all, he just wanted to get away from Derks.

He was dizzy.

His sides ached from a cramp.

He took a step and was confused and light headed.

He saw the finish line but all he heard was Derks.

He took another step.

He heard the crowd cheer for another event on the ground.

He heard Derks incessant yelling.

He took another step.

He looked at the sky and the world went grey and fuzzy.

Derks voice trailed off as if in cave.

And that was all he remembered.

Ben woke up to his mother holding his hand in the back of the ambulance and the siren ringing out as they raced to the local hospital. Then it went blurry and quiet again and Ben remembered nothing except the sounds and smells of the intensive care ward at the Mount Gratten Hospital several hours later. His mother was still by his side, holding his hand, and smiling at him when he finally opened his eyes.

The second he opened his eyes he remembered what had happened at the sports day and the finish of the race. A small tear traced its way down his face to the stiff white pillow under his head.

Thirteen years old and I wish I hadn’t woken up.

Will the world ever be right for me Ben wondered?