There were three sprint meets and three team meets in a row. As the season continued, we swept every sprint event and won every track meet. We'd gone from the joke of the school to the class of the field, being the most successful team at Suitland by far and that's before we went undefeated through our entire Prince George's County schedule. The fifth track meet was at Wheaton and that would separate the men from the boys.

Wheaton was in Montgomery County. They were more like us, being middle class, but they were still in Montgomery County, getting the benefits that came with it. Going to Montgomery County was starting the second part of the season and anything that came before you went to Montgomery County was irrelevant if you were a serious track power. Montgomery County Schools were esteemed enough to not journey into Prince George's County, we always went to them.

To top it all off, Richard Montgomery would be there. They had a 100 man who ran ten flat the week before. Beaudreault had brought a newspaper to practice to show Whitey. They both stared at the time and knew he was the next guy they faced.

I wouldn't have known the difference, except it's the kind of thing Whitey and Beaudreault always knew about their competition, and it made a difference to Beaudreault. He'd rolled over the competition all season but running a guy that ran ten flat was going to require his best race ever. There was no mention of the guy in the 200, so Whitey wouldn't know if he would run against him in his event until Thursday.

Beaudreault became moody after reading us the paper. He didn't isolate himself as he once did. He more got quiet and apprehensive, spending more time in his starting block. Bladensburg was going to be the fourth team at the meet and so there was little chance we'd finish last.

We'd already had a great season and nothing could change that but expectation made it much more nerve racking. In some ways it was easier being a loser. There was no expectation. You ran your race and you sat down. Wheaton was fairly ordinary according to their record, but they did run mostly Montgomery County schools.

Their track wasn't as good as Northwestern's but it was way better than ours. Before we got relaxed in the bleachers they were calling the 100 men to report. I walked with Beaudreault and Whitey and didn't like the feel of it. They'd never been that quiet.

Beaudreault smiled and shook my hand boldly. I never got more than a dishrag quality shake out of him before most races. Whitey smiled and turned to adjust his block. I walked away after they drew lanes.

Whitey was in lane four. Beaudreault was in lane six. The Richard Montgomery guy, a huge black dude, was in lane five. When he stood behind the block he was imposive. He kept his hands on his hips and looked beyond me but never at me. I looked at Beaudreault's lack of musculature and winced. This guy was going to eat him alive.

Bladensburg only fielded one 100 man and so there were only seven in the race. I stopped next to Coach Becker on the inside of the track. Everyone was a buzz with the talk of the 10.0 flat time.

"He certainly is big," Coach Becker said. "I'm told he plays fullback on the football squad."

Coach Becker offered me a watch but I turned it down. I'd taken times for him during some of the earlier meets, always anxious to see what Beaudreault or Whitey did. I wasn't going to be able to focus because I was too worried about the outcome. I never really worried about Beaudreault or what he was about to do but I always expected him to win. For some reason, a very logical one, I didn't expect it today.

Maybe it was my failing or perhaps it was just the odds playing themselves out. Whatever it was, I wandered back into the bleachers, feeling guilty for doubting my guy. I joined Droter and James at the top of the bleachers.

"How is he?" James asked.

"Fine."

"Did you see the Richard Montgomery guy?" James asked.

"Yeah."

"What's he look like?" he continued.

"Big! Very big!" I said, making the word sound big.

"Will Beaudreault beat him?"

"Shut up, James. You'll know when I know," I snapped.

"Yeah, shut up James," Droter agreed, stretching up on his toes for a better view.

"I was only asking. Geeze Louise, it's only a race."

Second and third isn't bad. We were leading the track meet after Kennerly and Payne finished second and third in the hurdles. No one went down to greet Beaudreault or Whitey. I knew better. Neither of them were going to be in a good mood and this put Whitey's race and the two relays on the line. Our sweep of the sprint events that had carried through the season was over and all bets were off when Wheaton surged ahead in the meet, taking first, second, and third in the pole vault and winning both hurdle events.

For the first time that season Droter and I hadn't raced each other to a sprinter's celebration. He apparently felt the same way I did but we didn't compare notes on it.

We won the 4X100 relay and Beaudreault was fine and he had put his loss behind him. In fact he had something to prove in the 4X100 relay, only the Richard Montgomery guy never appeared. Their relay team wasn't all that good, finishing well behind Wheaton and only defeating Bladensburg by a yard. It was more confusing when their 100 man didn't show up for the 200. I kept expecting him to appear at the last second, but he didn't.

Whitey beat Beaudreault by five yards in the 200. Beaudreault didn't seem to have his heart in it but finished second anyway. The 4X200 relay was another romp. By the time I got the baton we were twenty-five yards ahead of the second place team. Whitey must have felt guilty adding injury to insult. I was at the finish line by the time the Wheaton guy came in second. There was a muted celebration when we came back to celebrate victory.

As Todd ran away with the mile, Coach told us the meet was in the bag if Todd didn't break his leg. The 4x400 relay finished last, but luckily we didn't need those points and while we only won three out of four sprint events, we'd won the fifth track meet in a row.

We'd gone to Montgomery County and hadn't been embarrassed or defeated. Our enthusiasm was still a bit muted. We understood the meat of our season was about to begin, and while all the wins were wonderful, the competition was about to get turned up a few notches. It was going to take a major effort to stay on top of our game and at Wheaton we hadn't won convincingly enough to feel comfortable. It was the most important track meet since the PG Relays and our biggest win of the year, because it was won in Montgomery County.

Tommy was sitting on the curb waiting for the bus to return. He was delighted we'd won and I gave him a run down while driving him home. We were practicing both Friday and Saturday and the Northwood Invitational Track Meet wouldn't be run until the following Saturday. It gave us extra time to rest our muscles and catch up with our lives.

On Friday after Wheaton, Beaudreault mostly stood by his block and leaned on the front of the bleachers like in days of old. When we took the baton down to him and practiced a few handoffs, he gave it his usual effort but we all knew to tread lightly around him. His second place finish in the 100 was the only disappointment in the entire season. It was best to give him a lot of room when he needed it and so we did. Letting him do what he needed to do.

I spent all my time with Droter and James and let the practice run its course. We never pushed it the day after a meet and we had two extra days before Northwood. The weather had never been better and it had held up for over a month.

I've got to think that Northwood was on Coach's mind. I don't mean Northwood next Saturday but Northwood last year. That's where Beaudreault pulled his hamstring and it was all down hill after that.

If Northwood wasn't on Coach Becker's mind, it was on mine. It wasn't just about Beaudreault getting hurt. I remembered how they shortchanged us in the 4x100 relay, which may have cost us a win. No one else mentioned it, so I didn't, but I thought about it plenty, and it still got me mad. I figured there was no way they could pull a dirty trick like that again.

The intensity of our practices heightened by the beginning of the next week. We had the Junior Picnic on Wednesday and I wouldn't have school the entire day, so this was a nice gift in the middle of a busy week at practice.

Little did I know how much trouble someone could get into during a picnic. I was naïve enough to think, not much, but I ended up not knowing the difference between helping a friend and crossing the line, according to the school administration.

It all started when I went off on a bus with 814 of my classmates. The only thing on my mind was being out of class for the day but before we'd turned out of the driveway, Sandy Perry was sitting next to me. It was the first time we'd been together, minus Charlie James, since sixth grade. I didn't think much of it but I did have a hinky feeling down in my gut.

"Hi, Charles," she said, once she'd negotiatied the seat away from Eddie Dow.

"Hi, Sandy. How are you?"

"Not doing so well. My boyfriend dumped me, you know."

"No, I didn't. You shouldn't have any trouble there," I said, and she smiled a bashful smile and let her fingers intertwine with mine.

"More than you think, Charles. I don't know how to talk to boys. I mean they have no trouble talking to me but they're all after the same thing, you know, and I hate that. I mean I want a boy to like me because they like me, you know."

"Gee, Charlie James is crazy about you, Sandy," I said without him telling me he was but I'd seen the look in his eyes.

"James?"

"Sure," I assured her.

"But we're friends."

"Well, partly because he likes you, and he's a super nice guy."

"You're a nice guy," she said in a soft low voice, squeezing my hand.

"We're friends, Sandy," I said, using her own logic.

"Yes, we are," she said, snuggling closer and I wasn't as concerned about promoting James when she did that, but I knew better.

I did like Sandy but girls weren't really on my radar screen. I wanted to be there for her if she was in distress, but I still had no desire to complicate my life.

I had no clue what complications were until that day. My relationship with people, except for Tommy, was always like walking on ball bearings. I knew I wasn't ready to risk my emotions to romance.

During the bus ride, Sandy told me about her boyfriend and how he'd hit her and made demands. I told her she'd done the right thing leaving him but she hadn't left him, he'd dumped her and she was miserable without him.

Before I knew it, we were at Fort Washington. The bus doors opened and chaos ensued. Everyone was running around and acting like fools. I guess a day out of school can do that to you. We'd all been cooped up inside for the winter and this was our chance to get out and explore.

I decided I'd stay with Sandy since she was so sad. There was no one else I had planned to spend the day with. Tommy was with Bonnie and while some of my teammates were there, none I wanted to hang with.

Once we settled in at a picnic table, Sandy wanted to go for a walk.

"Let's go to the fort," she suggested.

A lot of the kids were roaming off in that direction and we followed them over to climb on the gun turrets that overlooked the Potomac River a short ways from Mount Vernon. After a time, we took a path that we thought might lead us back to the picnic tables, although neither of us cared, and we strolled off from our classmates hand in hand. It was nice being with Sandy but I couldn't help but feel like I was betraying James by doing it.

The longer we walked the more we became certain we weren't going to end up at the picnic tables. We'd pretty much walked in a straight line away from the fort, but instead of retracing our errant steps, we decided to take a short cut through the woods so we wouldn't have to backtrack a half a mile back to the fort. That was our second mistake.

We got tired, or at least Sandy did, and we sat at the bottom of a dry wash on an old rotted log. Sandy leaned over and kissed me and I did my best to return the favor, thinking we were headed for trouble and not knowing what to do to stop it.

"You're nice, Charles," she said. "A good friend."

"So are you but we're friends, Sandy." Doing my best to not complicate things any more.

"Yeah, I know. I just wanted to see."

"Well?" I said.

"We're friends."

It was easier being with her after we got that out of the way. I was sure I didn't want a girlfriend and thinking she was expecting that from me made me nervous; not with the butterflies that cluttered my stomach before races but more with the uncertainty of too much too soon and before I was ready.

We walked hand in hand, cutting back and forth across country each time we decided we were going the wrong way, but no matter which was we went, we didn't run into any picnic tables. I have no clue how long we were out there, but I got a good idea once we finally heard the insanity and disruption of our classmates, who probably never knew we were gone.

As we emerged hand in hand from the woods, we were met with the glares of Mr. Jack and Mr. Lavene, and a half dozen other teachers.

"Where in hell have you been," Mr. Jack said succinctly.

"Walking," I said in a peppy unaware voice.

"Don't get smart with me, Charles," Mr. Jack advised.

"What?" I asked, confused.

"We've been out looking for you for hours. Where have you been?"

"Walking," I said, as Sandy squeezed my hand to tell me to shut up.

"We got lost. We walked to the fort and took a shortcut, except we got lost," Sandy said, sounding a bit addled and ditsy.

It was time for me to squeeze her hand. She was too smart to pull that one off and the more we talked the deeper into the dodo we got.

"Get on the bus and don't move," Mr. Jack ordered.

"What?"

"Don't sass me, young man. Get on your bus. Miss Perry, you come with me. You're not to be on the same bus with this boy."

And so our day ended abruptly but I hadn't heard the last of it. I hadn't even heard the first of it. I was starved and really looking forward to a hot dog, but I decided not to push my luck.

All the way back to school the boys sang happily, "Shame on you. Shame on you."

I was at a loss to figure out why all the hullabaloo. We'd only been walking and I was about ready to take a poke at someone. It didn't much matter who. The razing went on non-stop and I didn't like what I thought they were suggesting, but once I got back to school, I would rather have been back on the bus. There was a different kind of guilt trip waiting for me as they had been alerted about the happenings that day and they were waiting for my arrival.

At first, I was confronted by the Vice-principle, Mr. Burgess, and his title fit the order of the day. He was usually stoic but had turned angry and red faced by the time he got to me. I thought I might get poked before it was all said and done.

My opinion was, everyone had gone off the deep end or took up smoking wacky weed. They had all come to the same conclusion about what was going on in the woods for all that time we were missing. Beyond a single innocent kiss and a lot of sweaty hand holding, we were chaste as the driven snow. I was a little shocked by our accusers. It confirmed what I thought about adults. They were reactionaries that came up with platitudes to cover each contingency. They spent all their time judging and pontificating and no time listening.

I sat alone in Mr. Burgess's office because no one could put into words what they were thinking. The bells dismissing school came and went and the kids had all poured out of the school as I waited to find out what happened next.

"Charles," Mr. Burgess said firmly, after attending the dismissal of the school. "Report to Coach Becker. Lucky for you Mr. Warthan is out for the rest of the day, but you haven't heard the last of this. I can assure you of that."

"Yes, sir," I said, wondering what I had heard and what I might hear more about later as I eased myself out of his office, happy to make my escape and running to the locker room and a safe haven, or so I thought.

I was certain Coach Becker would refuse to participate in whatever it was that was going on but he was an adult after all.

"Charles," Coach Becker said firmly as I passed his door.

"Yes, sir," I said, stopping to lean inside.

"Come in here and close the door behind you."

They'd gotten to the Coach.

"Yes, sir," I said, not liking the tone in his voice.

"What were you thinking?"

"What?" I protested loudly, but being tired of the evasive nonsense that I was being charged with, but not in so many words; not in any words.

Why didn't someone ask us what happened?

"You and that girl," he said alarmed. "You have a track meet Saturday. They want to expel you from school."

"Expel me! I haven't done anything," I said way too loud for that office.

"What happened?" Coach asked.

Finally!

"Her boyfriend dumped her. He was a creep. She was upset and wanted to talk. We talked. We got lost. We got found. That's what happened."

"That's all? You didn't … there wasn't … you can't behave this way."

"What way? I was trying to help a friend," I protested some more, sensing he was actually listening.

"You've got to stay away from her, Charles. I might be able to keep you on the team but Mr. Warthan hasn't heard the details yet."

"You can tell him nothing happened."

"School will be out in a few weeks. We only have a couple of meets left. You've got to tell me, you'll do that. Not see her."

"Coach," I implored. "We're friends. She's in trouble. Oops."

I backtracked realizing that wasn't the word I wanted.

"Scratch that. She's having trouble. I can't not help her, Coach. She's my friend. We've been friends forever."

"You aren't ... you don't ..."

"We aren't and we don't," I said as firmly as possible as I looked him square in the eyes, hoping he'd see the truth.

"Can you stay away from her at school at least? We're coming up to the biggest track meets and school will be out before this blows over. I don't want to lose you."

"I suppose. We hardly see each other at school. She's not in any of my classes. We eat lunch together some days but I'll tell her we can't."

"I see you meeting her after practice," he said. "It's got to stop, Charles. Not at school."

"Yeah, James and I go to the Mo for sodas. Sometimes she goes with us. Sometimes she meets us there."

"James? She's involved with James, too?"

"Yes, sir," I said, and Coach Becker ran his fingers through his hair and had a why me look on his face.

There was no gap tooth smile or any pleasure that came from our meeting. He dismissed me and told me to dress for practice while he tried to figure some way out of the situation.

Everyone knew. Even the sprinters were snickering at me. How could news travel so fast? Droter was the only one that didn't make an innuendo about the incident, but I hadn't seen James yet. If Droter was adult about it James was absolutely childish. He was the only one I wasn't sure I wanted to face. I was certain he'd be less than happy over the rumors that followed me to practice.

"I thought we were friends," I heard James say, and I turned around to look at a very angry looking boy, as I was getting one leg in and had one leg out of my shorts.

He seemed quite unhappy with me and he looked a lot larger than usual.

While James wasn't all that much bigger than I was, he had muscles that made him seem larger and those muscles were all bulging as his skin took on a red hue. I'd heard but never realized how much trouble women could get you into. My classmates were no big deal. I didn't much care what they thought. The teacher's anger was a confirmation of what I already knew and it didn't upset me that much. Coach Becker's frustration mirrored my own, and I was certain the team would stand behind me once the furor died down, but James, he was my friend and that hurt in a way none of the rest of it mattered. I didn't have that many friends to call my own and the idea of losing one by accident wasn't to my liking, even though I knew the entire time I was with Sandy that if James heard, he'd not take it well.

"We are," I said, trying to think of something original to bail myself out with.

The truth seemed like the way to go at the time, although I hadn't had much luck with that concept yet. James and I had talked and he knew me, and he was a kid, so I thought he might be more receptive if I told him the plain and simple facts, but he also had a major crush on Sandy and that was the wildcard. When infatuation rears its head, all bets are off.

"You know how I feel about her, Charles, and now I hear you two ... you two are ... I don't like what I hear. No, I don't like it at all."

"How do I know how you feel?" I sidestepped, hoping he didn't notice. "You've never said anything to me about how you feel. We've all hung out together and that never bothered you and she was my friend first. If I go somewhere with you is she supposed to get pissed off?"

"You knew I liked her. How could you do this to me?"

"What you heard was wrong. Nothing happened. Sandy and I are friends," I explained, sitting on the bench to make a smaller target should my rational fail to appease him. "You and I are friends. I have no desire to change that with either of you. Her boyfriend dumped her. She was upset. We went for a walk. We got lost and now all of this. People sure have dirty minds," I said, and then I raised my voice for everyone in a three mile radius. "Nothing happened!"

"You serious?" He asked, his skin becoming less red.

"As a heart attack, dude. She's my friend. I wanted to help. You're my friend and I'd never do that to you. Besides she likes you."

"She isn't with her boyfriend anymore, huh? Cool!" James said with a space cadet look in his eyes and a silly grin on his face. Ain't love grand.

"We're friends James. Me and you, me and Sandy, you and Sandy. Friends. If you want it to be more than that with her, you'd better talk to her about it. If you have any doubts about what I'm saying, call her, ask her. She tell you the same thing."

"Cool. So she doesn't have a boyfriend?," he said, smiling and acting relieved. "I didn't think you were like that. Sorry," he said and he was, "but you know how I feel about her."

"Sorry about what?" I asked.

"About thinking what I was thinking about you. It wasn't cool. I hope you aren't mad at me," he said, sounding concerned.

"James, I can't take any more dramatics today. We're cool. You're cool. We're friends. If you want to make time with Sandy that's your business. I don't and don't ask me to help you."

"Cool. You think she likes me?" he said. "Want to go to the Mo after practice? She likes the Mo about that time."

"Sure," I agreed, checking to be sure his muscles had relaxed.

It was like a wildfire and the winds were just starting to fan the flames. Sandy was waiting in the parking lot when I left practice for the showers that day.

"You okay?" I asked. "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry," she said. "It was my fault. I didn't mean to get you into trouble."

"I know," I said. "It'll blow over."

"Charles!" Coach Becker yelled from the track a hundred yards away.

"Yes, sir," I answered, half looking over my shoulder. "James and I are going to the Mighty Mo. We'll meet you up there and we can talk?"

"Charles!" Coach Becker yelled as he jogged toward the fence.

"Yes, sir," I said. "I can't see you at school from now on. 'Til schools out."

"OK. I'll see you up there," she said, walking away.

Sandy seemed to be able to weather the storm, maybe a lot more able than I was.

Coach Becker called me into his office before I could make a clean getaway. He reminded me again that I wasn't to see Sandy on school property if I wanted to stay on the team. There was no compromising.

"I was telling her that, Coach. She understands. We can't see each other at school."

"Okay," he said, sounding satisfied.

"What about T.V.?" I asked.

"You mean our Principal?" Coach said, waiting for a clarification.

"Yes, sir. Mr. Warthan." I said, seeing I was not out of the woods with him yet.

"I'll talk to him," he said pensively. "I'll tell him I believe you. He's not going to be happy with your conduct, Charles, but I'll tell him I need you and I'll assure him that you'll stay away from that girl if he lets you run."

"At school," I reminded him, remembering my date after practice and not wanting to lie to him.

"I'll leave that addendum out of my conversation with T.V."

He looked up at me sensing this wasn't a point easily negotiated and he wanted it to all go away and that made two of us. It had been a good year and I felt pretty good about myself as well as what I was doing, but I'd hit a brick wall. It wouldn't go away and there was no way around it. I was watched like a hawk.

Whitey caught me before I got much beyond the backdoors. He too was not pleased with me and if there was anyone I wanted to stay on the right side of, it was Whitey Sheldon.

"What did Coach say to you?" Whitey asked as we stood nose to nose at the corner of the school. "What about the team?"

"He's going to talk to Warthan."

"What about that girl?"

"What about her?"

"You seeing her?"

"Yeah!"

"You're going to keep seeing her?"

"She's my friend."

"You get your butt kicked off this team and you'll have worse problems than TV Warthan. I'll personally hunt you down and kick your butt. You get where I'm coming from?"

"Yes, sir," I said, feeling like a little boy.

"You do whatever it is you have to do to get rid of this for another two weeks. After that you can self-destruct on your own time. Don't do it on mine. This is all I get, Charles? After this month, it's your team. You can do what you want. It's my time right now. Do whatever you have to do."

"Okay."

There was no smile and no see you later. Whitey walked away having said everything he had to say. I'd never seen him that ticked off before.


Send Rick an email at quillswritersrealm@yahoo.com

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