The Girl of His Dreams Page 12

  “Oh, she likes you,” Sophie said.

  “It was a good thing I was in the car that day or she would have broken both my kneecaps.”

  “That’s an awful thought.”

  “Me not able to run? Damn straight.”

  She passed him a can of soda. “My brother wrote me. He says they have to have me up there with the baby so close.”

  “What are they going to do if you don’t show up? What if there’s no Sophie? What then?”

  She was sitting cross-legged, leaning toward him. “I was there to help Pat with both the other babies. I feel sort of guilty.”

  “Well, you told your brother you’d go up for a few days when she has the baby.” He pushed the hair off her forehead. He loved the way she looked and the way he felt and the way they were together, and he wanted to tell her something good. “Want to hear something nice?” And he told her how the coach had called him aside and talked to him. “And then he said he could make a runner out of me.”

  “I told you,” she said. “You’ve got talent.”

  “That’s just what he said.”

  “Isn’t that wonderful? You’re always saying you’re not sure. But this is proof.” Her face was shining and she kissed him.

  Later, they walked around the edge of the beach and ate potato chips. They walked arm in arm, slowly because of Zola. “This has been a really perfect day,” Sophie said. “You’re not going to feel bad because you didn’t run, are you?”

  “Everyone’s got to take a day off now and then. Otherwise you get stale.”

  As they got closer to the concessions, the walk got more and more crowded. “Maybe we should go,” Sophie said. “Do you want to take one last swim?”

  “Maybe.” He glanced over at the diving platform.

  A girl was standing alone on top of the ladder. She was tanned, and her dark hair fell to her shoulders. She was wearing a white bikini, and the light coming off it seemed to surround her with a glistening haze. For a moment he thought it was Lee. She was like an actress or a dancer, someone perfect, too perfect to belong in this place. She stood on the platform, apart and above everyone else, then raised her arms and disappeared into the water.

  “Willis?” Sophie passed her hand in front of his face. “Hello, in there. You didn’t hear anything I just said.”

  “Yes, I did,” he said. She’d asked him something about food. It was always food with Sophie. Suddenly everything bothered him. Sophie’s talking about food again, and all these fleshy, naked people, and the smell of mustard and suntan lotion, and the way everyone was packed together like cornflakes in a box.

  Was this all people did? Work and sleep and eat and eat and eat some more? He glanced up at the platform again. There were just a couple of kids up there, fooling around.

  He wanted to move, take big steps, stride out of here, escape. Escape from himself. Escape from what he was thinking. His big news that he’d stored up to tell Sophie didn’t seem like anything now, because it wasn’t anything. When the coach had said, I can make a runner of you, it had felt like he’d handed Willis a bright, shiny trophy, but now it just seemed like a piece of tin in a Cracker Jack box.

  Him, run? Against Aaron Hill? He’d been making believe all these weeks. The Mystery Runner. The outlaw coming from nowhere. Clark Kent at the racetrack. Super-runner. Superdope. Who was he? He was nobody. He was a laborer in a factory. Nobody was going to let him run in a college meet.

  Famous? Race Aaron Hill? He was a dreamer, and that made him a fool.

  He didn’t intend to go back to the coach’s practice, but later that week Sophie asked him about it. She had the workout book open and was bringing it up to date.

  “I haven’t been back,” he said.

  “Oh.” She was surprised. “I thought you were going.”

  “I’ve been running.” He wanted to let it go at that, but she kept asking questions, and he said he was going over tomorrow. He didn’t feel like explaining how discouraged he’d begun to feel. He didn’t want Sophie to know that he’d lost his spirit.

  “Pierce,” the coach said, “I’ve been looking for you.” He flipped through a sheaf of papers. “I want to show you something.” And he showed Willis his name on the roster. “Last name first. That’s the way we do it. Pierce comma Willis.” The coach looked pleased. He wanted Willis to show some enthusiasm. “I don’t put everyone on this list. There’s a little paperwork to be done and then we’ll get you all set with a uniform and the rest of the stuff you need.”

  A little paperwork? Willis could imagine the coach in the front office, and the head honcho or the foreman or whoever they had there saying, Willis Pierce? Who’s that? There’s no Willis Pierce registered in this school. And the coach, with his round, sincere eyes, not getting it and saying it again. You’ve got to have his name. I was just talking to him. Pierce. Pierce comma Willis.

  Thirty-two

  In the zoo, Sophie and Willis wandered around looking at the animals. “Look at the giraffes,” Sophie said.

  “Long legs,” he said, but his mind was elsewhere.

  “I love the zoo,” she said. She put her arm through Willis’s. “Look at the elephants. Don’t they look like old, dusty blankets?” At the monkey cage, she pointed to a male sitting off by himself with his arms crossed. “Willis, who does he remind you of?”

  “Your boss.” It was the first time all morning that he laughed. Maybe the first time all week. It felt as if his face had cracked. He’d stopped running. Not a day since he’d seen his name on the coach’s roster. And he hadn’t told Sophie yet.

  He’d been having bad dreams every night. Running dreams. The dreams would start beautifully. Him running through crowds, then running alone through the country, hearing only the whisper of his footsteps, seeing flowers and butterflies and the road rising and falling and climbing toward the sky.

  Then, suddenly, the dream road tilted steeply down, and he could hardly keep his balance. Ahead, he saw a wreck, a burned hulk of a car on the side of the track. And his father coming toward him, his coat open, words coming out of his mouth that Willis couldn’t hear or understand. And then he was tangled in the arms of his father’s coat.

  He cried out. He fought. He was being held and beaten. He fought back, but he had no strength. His knotted fists were soft as pillows. Every time he had this dream, he woke confused, unsure, depressed.

  At the zoo’s pavilion, they ran into Lee and Benny, both of them dressed in white and wearing dark glasses. They looked like they had come to the zoo to make a movie. They were the stars, waiting for the director. And what were he and Sophie? The extras waiting to walk on for the crowd scene.

  Benny waved. “Willis! Over here.”

  “Oh, him,” Sophie said. She made a face. Willis was reluctant, too, but they walked over.

  “You remember Willis, don’t you?” Benny asked Lee. “And this is, uh …”

  “Sophie,” Sophie said in a loud voice.

  “Oh, right. Sophie,” Benny said. “The shy and elusive Sophie.” He had a camera around his neck, and under his white jacket he wore a black T-shirt that said TOGETHER WE CAN.

  “Can what?” Sophie asked.

  Benny looked down at his T-shirt and laughed. “Well, Sophie, I haven’t figured that one out yet.”

  Willis and Sophie went to the counter to get something to eat. “Don’t let me sit next to him,” Sophie said.

  “Okay,” Willis said, but when they returned to the table, Lee moved over to make room for him and he sat down next to her. Sophie ended up next to Benny.

  “Every time I come to the zoo, I see you guys,” Benny said.

  “No,” Sophie said, “this is the first time we’ve been here.”

  “Same for us.” Benny had a big smile on his face.

  “Ooh! Funny.” Sophie turned to Willis. “I fell for that.”

  “Your cone’s upside down,” Benny said.

  She had a scoop of chocolate in a dish with the cone set on top of it. �
��That’s the way I always eat my ice cream.”

  “Strange.”

  “You think so? My brother likes his with spaghetti.”

  “She’s putting me on,” Benny said, “isn’t she, Willis?”

  “All the time,” Willis said. He swallowed a yawn. Benny could be a pain. Willis looked at Lee. She hadn’t said anything, and the dark glasses made it hard for him to read her face. He thought of asking her about his seeing her on the diving board. Had it really been Lee?

  He remembered the haze of light around the figure on the diving board. She had been distant, unreal, like a goddess in the sky. And now she was sitting next to him, her hand inches from his. Her hands fascinated him. She had a ring on every finger and glittery nails and gold chains on her wrists.

  “Are you still running, Willis?” She pushed her dark glasses up into her hair.

  “He runs every day,” Sophie said proudly. “Don’t you, Willy?”

  He moved the ketchup and sugar jars around on the table. Sophie’s voice jarred him with its eagerness.

  “He runs twice a day and … how many miles this week, honey? Is it fifty? He’s running up at the college, too. The coach is working with him.”

  He shut his eyes. He wished she hadn’t said that. “Still working in the market?” he asked Lee.

  “Oh, yes,” she said languidly.

  “Since when are you running at the college?” Benny said.

  Willis shook his head. “I just went a couple of times.”

  “No,” Sophie said, “you’re going every—”

  Willis kicked her foot, and she stopped and just sat there.

  For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Benny raised his camera. “Willis, turn to Sophie. Let me get a shot of you two. Move a little closer. Sophie, put your arm around your man.”

  Sophie hesitated, then slapped her hand on Willis’s shoulder. “Hate you,” she whispered in his ear. Then she smiled at Benny. “Is it one of those instant cameras?”

  “It’s a single-lens reflex.”

  Benny took the picture. Sophie moved away from Willis. “I don’t know the first thing about cameras,” she said to Benny.

  “It’s easy to use. All you have to do is adjust for the light and the focus. You see that little mark? Here, try it.”

  Willis watched them. Their heads were together. All of a sudden they were buddies. Why? Because Sophie was mad at him. When they were alone, he’d talk to her, tell her why he’d stopped going to the coach’s practice. As a matter of fact, he’d say quietly, I’m not even running that much anymore. Nothing to get excited about.

  He turned toward Lee. He imagined telling her the same thing. You’re not running, Willis? she’d say. Oh. That was all she’d say. No surprise, no popped-open face, no Oh, why, Willy? She wouldn’t ask him anything.

  If he felt like it, he’d tell her about seeing his name on the roster and how, right after that, he’d stopped running. How all that talk about running and racing and becoming famous just stopped meaning anything to him. The whole idea had been like a big, bright balloon that someone had poked a finger into and the balloon had burst.

  Fine. Nothing to get excited about. He was possessed by a what-do-I-care? attitude. He was who he was. Willis Pierce, who worked in a factory. What did running have to do with that? What was running going to get him? College boys ran to get their exercise. They were the ones who got the awards and the trophies.

  He was aware of himself, relaxed, sitting there in the sun, turned toward Lee. Lee, he’d say, now that I’m not running, I’m free. I can do anything I want, go anywhere. I don’t have to be working all the time. So what do you say? I have a car, a little money, we could take a trip. Just you and me. No fuss. Just get in the car and go.

  He imagined the two of them in the car, Lee in front next to him, Zola in back. He was driving, it didn’t matter where. He’d seen a movie like this once. He couldn’t remember the name. The man and the woman driving through the country on a curving road with trees and bushes.

  “Do you like to drive?” he asked Lee.

  “Yes. I’m a good driver.”

  And he imagined the road rising and him driving and her beside him. And then sometimes she was driving and he was in the seat next to her, not thinking, just watching the road unfold in front of them.

  Thirty-three

  When they walked over to the pony and camel rides together, Sophie was next to Willis. But so was Lee. He was actually walking closer to Lee than to Sophie. Was she being too sensitive? She didn’t think so. Willis had been in a mood all morning, but they’d been having a pretty good time till they ran into Benny and Lee.

  Well, if they ran into them, they could run away from them, too. She took Willis’s arm, gave it a little squeeze and a tug, but there was no response. His arm was like a piece of wood.

  “Get up on the camel, Lee,” Benny said. “I want to take a picture of you on the camel.”

  “It’s too high. I’m not dressed for this.”

  “Lee, don’t be a baby. It’ll make a great shot.” He didn’t let up. “I want it for our album. Come on, you love to have your picture taken.”

  “Not on a camel.”

  “Be a good sport, angelface.”

  “Benny!” She turned to Willis. “Willis, talk to your friend. Make him stop it.”

  “Don’t you think we should go?” Sophie said to Willis. She didn’t want to be around when other people were fighting, but Willis just gave her a blank look.

  Benny got his way, and Lee got up on the camel. “Can’t you make it hold still?” she said to the pony boy.

  “Willis.” Sophie shook his arm. He couldn’t take his eyes off the beautiful Lee.

  “Benny, take the picture before I fall off.” The camel was shifting around. “Where’s the brake on this thing?”

  “Lean back. Show a little leg.”

  “Forget it. I’m getting off right now. You’re all done, Benjamin.”

  “Wait, a couple more shots.”

  Just then, the camel started to move. Lee grabbed the pommel. The camel trotted down the path, Lee rising and falling like a boat on the water.

  “Hang on, honey!” Benny called. “Hey,” he said to the pony boy, “stop that thing.”

  “Don’t worry,” the pony boy said, “Abdul will just go around the track and come right back.”

  “Lee’s not going to fall off,” Sophie added. The camel was like Ferdie, a big, slow farm horse they used to have. He was so big and so gentle, Sophie could walk under him without fear.

  The pony boy ambled after the camel. He wasn’t worried. He knew his camel. So what was Willis doing, running past him down the track and blocking the camel? The fireman with his net out. The rescue squad. The good guy, saving the princess. If she had been up there, Sophie thought, Willis would have fallen asleep.

  He ran around the side of the camel and held his arms up to Lee. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

  The way he was looking up at Lee made something hard stick in Sophie’s throat. He was glowing. Sophie knew that face. It was a face only she should see. That face belonged to her. To them, when they were together. He didn’t have the right to give it to anyone else. It was a private face, a special face.

  She dug her hands into her pockets. She felt like crying, but she just stood there watching as Lee slid off the camel and into Willis’s waiting arms.

  Thirty-four

  “Where’s Sophie?” Lee said.

  “She probably went to the little girls’ room,” Benny said.

  Willis didn’t say much. He hung around Lee, a little dazed, still feeling her arms around his neck. It was crazy. He should have been thinking about Sophie. One minute she was there and the next she was gone. He should have gone right after her. If he’d been thinking—but he hadn’t been thinking.

  The three of them drifted over toward the women’s room. Lee went in to check and came out shaking her head. They walked toward the gate. Maybe Sophie was waiting there.

&n
bsp; Going past the pony and camel rides again, Benny said, “How about a camel ride, angel?”

  Lee threw her arms around Willis. “Save me!” she whispered into his ear. “My boyfriend’s in love with a camel. Let’s escape.”

  For the second time, Willis’s arms were around her. He smelled her skin, her hair. Her lips were next to his ear. Benny framed another shot of the camel.

  “Hey, boyfriend,” Lee said, “meet you at the gate.” She put her arm through Willis’s. That was the way they were when Lee spotted Sophie at the bus stop across the street from the zoo. “There she is, Willis.”

  Willis waved his free arm. Sophie didn’t wave back.

  “Uh-oh, you’ve got troubles,” Lee said.

  He crossed the street. Sophie was on the bus already, and he followed her in. She was sitting next to a child with a huge blue-and-white panda in his arms. Willis stood next to her. “Sophie, I was looking for you.”

  “I noticed.” She patted the panda. “Did you win it?” she said to the little boy.

  “My mommy won it.” He looked around to see if his mother was still sitting behind him.

  “Sophie, what happened?”

  “Ask Lee.” She said it without looking at him.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Oh, you know!” She began drumming on her leg. “The camel! Lee! How would you feel if I went running after Benny?”

  “He wasn’t on the camel.”

  “Very funny.”

  “It didn’t mean what you think,” he said.

  She looked at him. “You can’t say one thing and think something else, Willis. It gives you a crooked look.”

  “Is that Brenda talking?”

  “Don’t you even know me? Can’t you even hear what I’m saying? Forget it.” She stroked the panda. “I don’t want to talk to you right now. I don’t want to talk to you, period. Why don’t you go your way and I’ll go mine?”

  He went to the back of the bus and sat down. What was he doing on this bus? His car was at the zoo. Thanks a lot, Sophie. He glared at the back of her head, ordered her to turn around and look at him.