Home is where your Heart is

Palo Alto Invitational

We were up against three other teams at the Palo Alto Invitational. We rode up in a short yellow school bus. It looked pathetic compared to the shiny long ones.

"Alright, put them on." Dad said, tossing a plastic red bag into the back. Smiles lit up each face as the boys pulled out new pairs of sneakers, cheap red shorts and McFarland tank tops.

"I'm not wearing these." Victor griped as he held the shorts.

"Then you're running naked because these are your uniforms."

Johnny smirked. "If we wear them, you wear them, ese."

I laughed as I hopped off the bus. The shorts were ugly. But they were all Dad could afford. I was happy I had my own nicer ones that still sported our school's colors.

"What are you smirking at?" Thomas asked as he came off the bus with the others following after they had all changed.

"Nothing," I replied too innocently.

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

We all gathered together and I explained the rules while Dad signed us in and got our numbers. "So this is how it works. You are scored on the place you come in. You come in first you get one point, second two points and so on. The team with the lowest combined scores from their first five players wins."

"So the lowest score wins?" Jose repeated uncertainly.

"Yeah," Dad said, as he came up to us. "It's like golf."

Damacio snorted. "You think we play golf?"

"We don't have a country club. We don't even have a Kmart." Thomas chuckled.

"I bet that guy plays golf." Johnny snickered, pointing to where the Centennial boys were warming up. We all laughed at that.

"Wait," said Danny a little disappointedly. "If my score doesn't count, why am I here?"

"If any of us gets ahead of any of their top five runners then that adds to their total score. That includes you Danny." I told him encouragingly.

Dad patted my shoulder proudly. "Alright, let's show them how it's done." We all moved to the starting line and the other teams watched us go by.

Someone wolf-whistled at me. "You're looking fine sweetheart. Want to give me a kiss for luck?"

"With my fist," I snapped back. He and his teammates only burst into laughter.

A restraining arm fell on my shoulder and steered me toward the line. I looked up in surprise to see it was Thomas. He was glowering at them as well. Once at the line, the other teams fell in. The jests from them didn't stop there.

"Where the hell is McFarland?" one of the boys said loudly.

"I heard they can't run without a cop behind them." snickered someone in the back.

"Or a Taco Bell in front of them." added another. I could feel the tension coming off my teammates in waves. Not one of them retaliated. I wished so hard that they would, but the McFarland boys were better than them and I knew they were right not to.

"Runners on your marks, get set..." The starter fired his pistol into the air and we began. The sun beat down on us and the air was dry. I had worked hard to adjust to these conditions and I wouldn't let them get the better of me now.

For a good portion of the run, no one was really racing. We weren't trying to outrun the other runners around us. All we did was try to pace ourselves, keep close to the people in front of us and stay ahead of the people behind us. Most of all, our eyes were wide open in anticipation of the final stretch, the leg of the run that really counted. Unfortunately for the McFarland runners, that last stretch was a hill. McFarland was completely flat. The boys had never run up hills before. They were completely unprepared for it. Thomas took a chance and sprinted past the runners in front of him, placing him in first place. He hit the hill first and tried his hardest to keep up the same speed, but even though the slope wasn't extremely steep, it dragged back at him and reduced him to half his speed.

Seeing this, I knew I had to make up the points for him. I had more experience with hills than they did so I was way better off. I launched myself into a hard sprint and sped past five runners before passing Thomas. My calves were burning half way up the hill, but I kept going and passed several more runners. At the top of the hill, I was side by side with a Palo Alto runner. I pumped my arms and legs as hard as I could. My sides ached, my heart was hammering and my lungs felt like they were about to collapse. But I kept going and did not stop until I crossed the finish line. I was just a step behind the Palo Alto boy.

After that I did collapse. I stretched out on the grass, struggling to get enough air into me. "Come on Thomas, you can do it!" Dad yelled and I sat up to watch him come in. Seventh place. McFarland was doing great until that hill. It was like quicksand and it sucked down the others just like it did Thomas. They all fell back several runners, placing us in a very bad spot on the scoreboard. We all knew we had lost, but Damacio still pulled me to my feet and we stood with our coach as the scores were announced.

Centennial came first and Palo Alto came in a close second. Morro Bay was third. We came fourth, also known as last, with an impressively high score.

"Better luck next time!" one of the Morro Bay boys said in passing as they headed to their bus. It was painfully obvious he was not sincere. Everyone was quiet as they climbed back onto the bus. No one said a word. There was tangible disappointment hanging in the air. After ten minutes, Dad pulled to the side of the road and looked back at us.

"I want you to know that what happened today was not your fault. It was my fault. I should have known about that hill. I should have checked the course. Otherwise Thomas would have eaten that kid's lunch. And Julie, that was some great running. It's a good thing tomorrow's a Saturday because you probably won't be able to walk for a while." His attempt at humor didn't reach anyone. "It's on me, okay? Understood?" He waited until he got a few nods and 'yeahs'. After a few minutes on the road in dead silence, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Okay, that's it." I sighed, kneeling on my seat and looking back at the others. "We have a long ride back and I for one don't feel like sulking the whole time. Let's play a game." I got more than a few bemused looks.

"A game?"

"Yes, a game."

Johnny sat forward interestedly. "Like what?"

"How about 20 Questions?" My eyes lit up with a sudden idea. "No, let's make that 40 Questions. Think of anything you want and make it silly. We have twenty questions to guess what it is and twenty more to guess what it might be wearing or doing or whatever. If you get stuck, you can ask for a hint, but be careful because you are only allowed three. I will go first and I already have an idea so go ahead."

By the end of the first twenty questions the boys figured out the object of my imagination was a dog. By then Dad understood where I was going with it and asked me, "Is it a dog wearing a tutu?"

"Yes!" The boys all laughed at the picture this put in their heads. I explained to the team why I chose that one. "Back in Idaho we had a neighbor who had a Chihuahua and she loved that dog to pieces. She would dress her in the most ridiculous things, most frequently this poufy, sparkly tutu that the poor dog could barely walk in." It was good to see the smiles on their faces. For the moment they had forgotten our horrible defeat.

"I've got one!" Danny shouted from the very back of the bus. And so the game went on, the objects becoming sillier and sillier until no one could guess what it was even with forty questions and three hints. But it didn't seem to matter. We all got a kick out of it when it was finally revealed. We went from dogs wearing tutus to hopscotching bananas to my dad wearing a clown outfit. Our spirits were lifted once again and each member seemed a little more cheerful as they were dropped off by their houses.

"That was pretty smooth." Dad said with a chuckle as we returned the bus and headed home.

"You always said laughter was the best cure for low spirits."

When we got home, Mom greeted us with a big hug and dinner. I was so tired though I was practically falling asleep at the dinner table. I went to bed at 8 o'clock for the first time in at least five years.