An Ordinary Life
“See you tomorrow for the training”, I called out to Danielle as I walked down the stairs from school Friday afternoon. She waved back, busy in conversation with her new boyfriend. Removing the chain locking it in place I grabbed my old bike and strapped my backpack to the cargo rack. Weaving out into traffic I almost choked on the diesel fumes that seemed to get worse every year. Weren’t there supposed to be environmental regulations in place to make the air better instead?
Biking was scary with all the potholes and drivers who didn’t seem to know what a bike was, but it was still better than trying to catch a bus or walk. I took a detour to the Salvation Army second-hand shop to see if they had any new clothes since the last time I was there. With a single mom who worked as a waitress, we had gotten used to living cheap.
Inside, I nodded at the cashier who recognized me as a regular customer by now. Not as scruffy as some, just never in really new clothes. Looking through the racks I found a black ‘Meat is Murder’ T-shirt. Not that I was that militant, but I knew exactly who it would annoy and I looked forward to her outraged protests. I also found some black pants to go with the look.
Entering the fitting room I found that the pants were too narrow to fit. At 5 foot 5, 175 lb I wasn’t exactly the model type. Even if I almost only trained running, somehow my upper body had filled out as well, all except my breasts. If I hadn’t kept my dark brown hair long and used makeup people might have mistaken me for a boy. A padded bra helped too.
The T-shirt was big enough to fit, and it was probably for the best the pants didn’t. Even second-hand clothes cost money better spent elsewhere, and I didn’t really need another pair of pants. Going out I checked the phone. A message from Mom that she would spend the evening with Billy, her most recent boyfriend. “Just heat some leftovers from the fridge”, as if I hadn’t made the lasagna myself yesterday in the first place.
Billy was a pretty decent guy and they had been together for over a month by now, almost a record. The relationship with my father, whoever he was, “Richard” “Rocky” or something, my mom didn’t even remember his name, had supposedly lasted all of two hours ending in his car outside a bar. There had been dozens of men while I grew up, yet she never gave up trying to find the right one.
Outside the store, the streets had started to fill up with people getting home from work, and I got my revenge on the drivers as I could weave through traffic while they were stuck in queues. I turned into our driveway and parked the bike inside our otherwise empty garage. The house was old but cozy, with most of the furniture still there from my grandparents. Worn, but made at a time they built things to last, and every dent had its history like when one of Mom’s crazier boyfriends had smashed an empty bottle against the kitchen table when he got mad he was out of beer.
I ate dinner in front of the TV watching some old movie, texted my friends for a while, and then went to bed early to read. English class had done some good as I discovered Jack London. Life in White Fang was tough, but so exciting compared to my own.
I had always been a morning person so I woke up when the sun reached my window, took a quick shower and put on leggings and a t-shirt with a hoodie on top. As I had promised to head over to Danielle after training, I packed a towel and change of clothes in my backpack too. After a quick breakfast, I yelled to my mother who still wasn’t up that I would be off training and visiting a friend and would be back in the evening. I only hoped she was awake to hear me, I had already been asleep by the time she got home.
The April morning was still crisp, but I got warm doing some easy yoga to soften up while I waited for our trainer to pick me up. Soon he arrived in his SUV. Juan and his son were in the front seat while I, Danielle and Mia got to sit in the back. Today we would just do running in the Maybury State Park west of Detroit. We had been there too often for orienteering to be a challenge and finding new areas where we needed to use a map would mean a longer drive.
We met the others arriving in their own cars at the entrance to the park. With 16 people in the group, we filled up the path as we started the run. Since we were very mixed in ages and skill we set off at a slow tempo. Juan’s son was only 13 and wouldn’t be able to keep up otherwise, but give him a real course and a map and he’d beat half the field since he was a natural when it came to finding a good path through terrain, and he never got lost.
After ten minutes when we had warmed up, Juan blew his whistle. This was the signal for the better runners to sprint ahead as fast as we could until turning back at a second signal. He would repeat that at random intervals to keep everyone on their edge. No official score was kept, but it had evolved into a strategy game where you tried to trick the others into running too fast the first times so they exhausted themselves before the finish of the run.
By now I was uncontested as the fastest of the girls, and only two of the older boys were still faster. During the sprints, I held back a bit and let those two wear each other out so that at the end of our eight-mile run when we had a final half-mile sprint to the finish I could overtake both of them and triumphantly raise my arms in a victory gesture.
“You are getting better all the time, Nemi.” Steven complimented me as he put his arm over my shoulder. Three years my senior he was like a big brother to me, although I think he hoped we could become more. Maybe as I joined him in college next year. I really liked him, but right now those years seemed like an eternity.
The other senior, Calum, had thrown himself on the grass while panting and acting as if he didn’t have any energy left. I think he could have overtaken me, but Calum never seemed to want to win, so different from the rest of his family. He had given me the iPhone I used when he got a new one from his dad. He always had the newest model, and I had been a bit wary about accepting it in case he wanted something in return, but he really wasn’t into the ‘family business’, he just wanted to be nice. Show he wasn’t like his dad and older brother.
After we had done stretching, Juan brought up the coming state championships, urging us all to enter. He was of the opinion that it was more important to participate than to win. Orienteering wasn’t a prestige sport in the US, those who wanted fame or scholarships should switch to track and field, this was for fun and to keep in shape.
Getting back in the car Juan drove us over to Denise who lived two miles from my place. We showered and changed clothes before fixing up a late lunch and then spent the afternoon watching TV. Dinner together with her parents and afterwards we all played Settlers of Catan. When the second game was almost finished, I got a message from my mom: “Shouldn’t you be home by now?”. I had forgotten the time, it was almost ten, long since dark outside and the neighborhood wasn’t the safest.
As I left, Danielle’s dad urged me, “Don’t take the shortcut along the old railroad this late, follow the main roads even it is longer.” Did I? Of course not, I had taken the path behind the houses on the abandoned track dozens of times without meeting anyone, and I figured it was safer than the streets. As soon as he closed the door I turned and headed between the houses.
It really was kind of dark, but enough light spilled in from nearby houses and roads to make it an easy passage as long as I made sure to lift my feet so I didn’t stumble on some unseen obstacle, but then that’s no different from running in a forest.
About halfway home, the tracks crossed a lit-up road, and in the light, I could see bats circling, hunting for insects. I tried an old trick, picking up gravel and throwing pebbles after them. Not to hit them, but it was so impressive to see how they instantly turned towards the pebble, then realizing it wasn’t edible returned to their earlier path.
I got so caught up with the game that I didn’t notice a man coming up at me from behind until he was right behind me and I heard a soft chuckle. Startled, I turned and saw a tall, undernourished man with long unkempt hair and torn clothes. His movements were jerky and in his hand he held a large kitchen knife that he waved around slowly as if he wasn’t quite sure what to do with it.
I slowly backed away as I felt my heart pounding and my breath was coming in short gasps. Whatever drugs he was on, I doubted I could just talk to him. “Run!”, I thought as I sidestepped and turned to get away. Then my foot got caught on the rail, I felt myself falling and all went black.
