They each opened a gel and sucked them down.
‘My mom still saysDark Vader,’ said Drew.
‘My mom’s put my Star Wars stuff in a box for me to sort out,’ Taylor said. ‘I don’t know where I’m going to put it. I don’t know where my things belong.’
On they ran and Drew listened to Taylor’s footfalls. They were light, despite his heavy silence. He put his hand between Taylor’s shoulder blades for a moment or two.
‘It sucks,’ Taylor said.
When the Amhuinnsuidhe estate came into view, they knew they were approaching the five mile mark. Before the archway, from the estate buildings, staff stood clapping and cheering. A young girl came rushing out of the honesty shop and sprinted ahead of them under the arch to the door of the castle, giggling all the way. Sunlight was skimming the surface of Loch Leosavay and there, at its head, on the neatly tended lawn, stood JB. His arms were raised aloft and he punched the air and bellowed at them. Drew and Taylor nodded at each other. They left the road to run a circle right around JB who knew that if he didn’t keep roaring he’d sob. So roar he did and Taylor and Drew ran backwards a few strides taking their fists to their hearts. Then away they ran as the road started to climb while the fast flowing Abhainn Mhor tumbled away from them and down into the loch.
‘Mind if I join you a wee while?’
Dougie was at their side. They’d forgotten about Dougie. Drew found he couldn’t remember his name but that was okay because he discovered how going through a long list of possibilities in his mind made the incline disappear. As the road levelled, he listened to Taylor’s breathwork. It was rhythmic, the exhales long and strong.
‘What do you do, Dougie?’ Taylor asked.
Dougie!thought Drew, who’d been stuck on Angus though he knew that wasn’t right.
‘I’m a photographer.’
‘Cool,’ said Taylor and Drew in unison.
‘You’re students, aye?’
‘Aye,’ said Taylor.
‘Aye,’ said Drew. ‘Grad school we are going.’
‘Yoda,’ said Taylor.
‘And after?’ Dougie asked, knowing well how much rubbish he could talk whilst running.
‘I want to be a novelist,’ Taylor said.
‘What’s your story?’ Dougie asked.
‘I don’t know yet.’
They’d covered another two miles and were grateful for Dougie pacing for them.
‘Bloody buses,’ Dougie laughed and pointed. ‘Hey there! Have you been waiting long?’
Right inside the bus stop at Cliasmol, a lone sheep was lying down as if she’d been waiting all day – for the bus maybe, but perhaps she was there to alert Drew and Taylor that the green zone had become orange.
Orange, for the next quarter, notified them to stay aware, that they might not feel so good and to be ready for that. The road was climbing again and the camber kept changing. Without fuss, Dougie stayed in the lead, giving the lads something to focus on. For Drew it was Dougie’s top and how the twist of fabric changed with each footfall. Taylor just stared at his ponytail, fixating on whether it was cool or not and wondering how long it would take to growhishair to be able to bunch it. Would it suit him? Accidentally, he knocked against Drew, not hard but still his friend lost his stride for a moment.
‘Sorry man.’
‘You’re good.’
Taylor’s right knee was hurting. Or was it? Was there a piece of grit just under his sock? Possibly. Probably not.
‘Orange,’ Taylor said.
‘Think: juice and flavour and that lovely colour and all that vitamin C,’ Drew responded.
The road had levelled again. Taylor’s knee was absolutely fine, there was nothing in his sock.
