July:
Therapist:July, where are you going?
127.
now
I know what I have to do.
I place the items—one, two, three, four, five; sticker, baseball, bucket, napkin, cross—into the backpack I used for Yolo. I pull it on over my shoulders. All the clues are inside. Except for the journal, which I burned.
And the running shoes, which I carry with me to the front porch steps. I pull the shoes on over my feet. I make sure the laces are tied tight.
Once they are, I stand up and stretch. My arms and legs, my quads and calves. I crouch as if someone is going to fire a gun, legs taut, arms at the ready, and then
I whisper to myself
go.
128.
once
The Fall Creek Girls Manifesto
We are the Fall Creek Girls.
We travel in a pack.
We run faster than fast, harder than hard.
Our feet push off the ground. Blood pumps in our veins and pounds in our hearts.
We know how to tear up a hill and how to fly past you when we’re tired. We’re not immortal, but we’re as close as anyone can be.
When we’re together, we turn heads. People pause, they watch, they look.
We make people jealous.
Older people wish their bodies worked like ours.
Little kids wish they were us. They want our long legs. Our laughter. Our freedom. Our arms draped over each other’s shoulders, our ponytails swinging when we walk.
We run all over town, but there is one run in particular that defines us.
It starts in a gorge that could break you. It doesn’t break us. We run up the stone steps, through the crevice the water has cut. Across the suspension bridge, a thread over the gorge. It is secret and misty in early mornings. We go down a long road, past Flatrock. The sun chases us along that road and through green farmland, rolling hills. Then we cut through the wildflower preserve, through the grass and blossoms and rumbling bees, to Fall Creek, where the water is deep and emerald green and the cliffs are darkest gray.
You can live a lifetime in a long run.
This one ends at the jump.
129.
now
The rain is rolling back as the sun lowers in the sky. It’s like the world, the town, nature, whatever is in charge, is sayingGood. You got the message. You’re doing what we asked. You’re going where you know you have to go.
Was there ever any other choice?
