Although he was no longer on one leg, it was still hard for JB to walk any distance. However, without making a fuss, he slung his arms around Taylor and Drew and they linked theirs around his waist and away they went. Over the soft sandy carpet through land that was like a velvety fuzz of green down, they walked to the slipway and looked over the water to Scarp.
‘The island’s uninhabited now,’ Dougie told them. ‘But I had family from there and I remember my old Uncle telling me how he thought of Harris as the mainland, how there’s a point a little way along where the voice carries right over the water at the Clach na h-Eigheach – the shouting rock.’
This place, thought Taylor.This place.
‘But enough with the history lesson,’ Dougie said. ‘You’ve a marathon to run.’
‘So get moving, ass-wipes!’ JB said and Dougie looped JB’s arm around his shoulders as if it was his favourite scarf. Only then could Drew and Taylor pick up their pace; marching, striding, jigging and jogging; forwards, backwards, sideways, back to the starting point.
Visitors to Hushinish watched the antics in the car park; two young men shedding layers, donning fancy drinking vests, jumping around on the spot, stretching, shaking out their legs and their arms. Smart watches were set, checked and setagain. Gels in pockets were counted and recounted. Vaseline was applied to lips and nipples, sunblock to noses. Laces were tightened, loosened and tightened until they felt just right. It was coming up for eleven o’clock and a small group had gathered.
JB clapped his hands. ‘Ladies, gentleman, cute dogs and small kid eating sand – I declare the Harris MarathonON!Godspeed my friends, godspeed.’
But Taylor and Drew faltered.
‘Godspeed motherfuckers!’ JB hollered, but still they didn’t leave. They walked over to him and enveloped him in their embrace. And there they stood in a group hug, foreheads together, silent for once.
That first mile – damn that first mile! Taylor always found it hard to run it slow though he knew it was crucial that he did, so it was a blessing and a curse that the first mile was an immediate climb. He had a monkey sitting on his shoulder hissing in his ear how it was all going to be too much, but at the one mile mark the wind changed and there was a barrage of beeping from Dougie’s car, JB leaning out of the window with battle cries of encouragement. And after that, Drew and Taylor had the road to themselves.
‘One mile down. You good?’ Drew asked. He felt so happy. His feet were cushioned with air. He loved his legs, his lungs, his heart and his absolute belief that if he trusted his body, it would carry him all the way.
‘I’m good,’ Taylor said, slaloming between the cows, orcoos, who were now mooching around the road and weren’t remotely interested in the running men.
‘Look where we are, man!’
‘God’s own country.’
They’d decided to run colours today, splitting the marathon into quarters. The first six and a half miles were coded green – for go, for freshness, for the colour of spring which, on this island in this weather, was bursting out around them. The perfect distance to ease themselves in, to find their pace. They felt good and strong. They could hardly believe how they’d eaten into the miles when, around a bend theWeaver Welcome!sign came into view. Next to it stood Duncan himself, hitting a saucepan with a wooden spoon and calling out to themcome on laddies, come on!
Taylor touched the old man’s arm as he ran by. This was going to be ok.
Drew glanced at his watch. This was going to be great.
Was it only yesterday that Taylor had made this journey? ‘What’s the day today?’ he asked Drew.
‘Friday. Is it Friday?’ Out on the road, strange things happened to time and space.
‘That guy drinks whisky out of a mug.’
‘Like – a whole cup?’
‘No just a splash.’
On and on. The surface had bounce to it. Their feet were hungry, gobbling the road.
‘Good time we are making.’
Taylor laughed. ‘You’re doing your Yoda thing.’
Sometimes Drew did this subconsciously, as if putting one foot in front of another was a greater priority than stringing words together correctly.
‘Love Star Wars.’
‘Me too.’
‘It’s defined my life.’
‘When I was a kid I wrote to Santa for aLight Saver.’
