Free The Memory of Running by Ron McLarty

my chest and stomach, but I didnt have either one.
    I play third base. Youre on the baseball team? Third base. Thats why Im wearing cleats.
     Thank you for getting me my ring. You threw it. . . . Thanks. I just . . . picked it up. I
     saw Jills face and realized she was pretty. It was a round face, and
    she had black eyes, or at least they looked black through her tears.
    Also, she had long, straight black hair. Chest men dont notice, I guess, the details. That
     day, for the first time, I noticed some details.
    I got to go. I got to walk home. Billy was supposed to take me home, but now hes . . .
    She threw her head back and let out one final sob/moan. I forgot about her face. I thought
     she might just break that red blouse to pieces. She didnt.
    We walked to the music-room door and into the hallway. Listen, Im going to my junior prom.
     I know. Im going alone. By myself.
    Why? I want to. Oh . . . okay. This was not good, and I was stupid. We walked to the field
     door.
    I was going out, and Jill Fisher was heaving her chest up the stairs. You wouldnt want to
     go. You probably wouldnt like it. You
    probably would hate to go. Where?
    My junior prom. Im a sophomore. Thats what I mean. Id have to go with a junior, or I
     couldnt go. Exactly. Some junior would have to ask you, and youd probably
    say no. I guess.
    Like, if I said, Want to go to my junior prom? youd say what? Id say what? Exactly. Okay.
    What? Ill go.
    And it happened to me in the music room like it almost always did. It just happened. I was
     a pool ball, really, ricocheting off every- body and everything. So even though my boy
     life didnt come com- plete with a specific plan or some logical course of action, it was
     my own little way of being in the world. Being a part of the whole. But nothing happens
     anymore. Im not on the pool table anymore. It wasnt getting hurt, or Bethany, or nothing,
     really. I just found the TV easier, the beer, the pretzels. You put on the tube, you drink
     the refreshing lager, you settle in for a good smoke, who needs contemplation?
    I didnt talk to Jill for a couple of weeks. Then one day a girl passes me a note in
     English class with Jills phone number, and it says to call her. That night I talk to a
     girl on the phone for the first time.
    Are you mad or something? she asked me, sort of pissed off. No. Then whats the story? Are
     we going to the prom? Sure.
    Its in two weeks. I know. Well, God! What color cummerbund are you wearing? Cumber What?
     God! I mean . . . Look, a cummerbund is a wide belt they wear with tuxedos.
    They come in different colors. Usually the cummerbund and bow tie are the same color. I
     want you to get a purple one.
    Okay. And . . . have you got some paper? Uh . . . yes. Okay, write this. A yellow corsage
     with some lily in it. Doesnt
    that sound perfect? Im so excited. Whats your name? Smithy Ide.
    Smithy. Okay. Are you driving? Ive got my license. Okay. Call me tomorrow night, same
     time. Okay. Bye. Bye. It didnt seem like much, but it was a terrific first phone call to a
    girl. I felt good. I walked downstairs to the kitchen and thought about a bowl of cereal,
     but I was never hungry and wasnt hungry that night. Bethany came into the kitchen in her
     robe and slippers and made herself a bologna and cheese sandwich and a coffee milk.
    Want one, Hook? she yawned. No thanks. She made her sandwich, put the mayonnaise and
     cheese and
    bologna in the fridge, and sat down at the table with me. She looked a little ratty.
    Im feeling icky, she said between chews. I stopped taking those pills, and I feel clammy.
    Youre not supposed to stop taking those pills. Cmon, Bethany. Theyre good for you.
    She looked at me and took a bite of sandwich without looking away.
    Cmon, I said again.
    A lot of times, Hook, not all the time but a lot of times, you can be a real cocksucker.
    I hated when she talked like that. Sometimes she could use words that made me actually
     throw up. I looked