THE RACE -Short fictionA Story by Stephanie DaichDad said we should support Mom, but I just wanted to stay in bed.Dad said we should
support Mom, but I just wanted to stay in bed. Mom had trained for the race for
six months. He dragged me to see her off on a chilly Saturday at an unrealistic
hour. I tried hiding my unselfishness and didn't want to go. "Hold this, will
you?" Mom said. She slapped a bracelet on my wrist and bent down to tie
her shoes. I took the bracelet off and
slapped it back on my arm. "Don't play with
it," Mom barked. "That bracelet is the most important part of this
race. I have to wear it. It tracks my time." "Hey, sweetheart,"
Dad said, jogging to us. "The bathroom line has become smaller. I know you
needed to go." "Good idea," Mom
said, sprinting to the line. "Dad, can I wait in the
car?" I didn't want to be there. "Samantha, stop it. We
are here to support Mom." "Grrr.""what a
stupid way to spend a Saturday morning. "Runners, this is your
five-minute warning. Please line up at the start line." The announcer
calls. "Oh no, Mom is still in
the bathroom," I said. "I will find her,"
Dad replied. My hands felt like ants
crawled on them. Mom couldn't miss the start. Where was Mom? I scanned the runners. Where
was she? "On your mark, get set,
go!" The announcer called. Those psychological ants
moved down my legs and to my feet. Dad came to my side,
smiling. "Dad, where is Mom? She
missed the start?" "She made it." His
smile made me smile. "Phew!" "Come on,
Samantha," he said without looking back. I scratched my itchy arm.
"Oh no, Mom's bracelet!" It still had it on my arm. "That bracelet is the
most important part of this race. I have to wear it," I remembered Mom
saying. Runners still ran through
the start line. I looked back at Dad. I knew what I had to do. I
had to catch Mom. She needed her bracelet. My anxiety rose. I wanted to
make sure I didn't sabotage Mom's hard training. I used that burst of nervous
energy and ran through the start line. I will just find Mom and
slap this on her wrist. "I will be right
back," I yelled to Dad. I blazed past runners,
determined to find Mom. I didn't know the importance of the bracelet, but she
needed it. A sea of faces surrounded me
as I heard heavy breathing from the other runners. I couldn't find Mom, and I
panicked. I pushed myself, even though
I felt like quitting. I can't give up, or Mom might lose because of this
dumb bracelet on my arm. It often felt like we were
packed together like crayons shoved in a box, and I had to push through people
to get by. Other times, I had stretches of emptiness. And yet, I couldn't find
Mom. It didn't take long until I
saw the backside of the blue arch and ran through it. People cheered and
snapped pictures on the other side. Eventually, I saw Dad and ran into his arms
with tears blurring my vision. "I couldn't find
her," I said. My lungs tightened, and I coughed each time I tried to
breathe. "Do you realize what
you just did?" Dad said in a high voice. I looked at the bracelet and
my feet. It wasn't my fault mom had put the bracelet on me. But, yeah, I knew I
caused her to lose the race. "You won first
place!" Dad said, jumping up and down. My head popped up, and I
looked around me. Several people surrounded me with flashing lights and
excitement. When the last runner came
in, the race officials whisked me to a stand where they put the first-place
medal around my neck. Had I just won the
entire race? How? I am only thirteen. Somehow, I had even won the adults. Finally, I spotted Mom. I
felt excitement and shame. Before I could apologize, she lifted me off the
podium and swung me around. "You won! I am happier
than I would be if I had won." I looked Mom in the eyes.
She did look happy. I made her happy. I had only been trying to
return the bracelet to her. But it turned out it tracked my run since I wore
it. I ran the 5K in 17.4 minutes. I didn't know what that meant, but Mom said I
have a future in running. In trying to help Mom, I
discovered a new talent. Thankfully I got out of bed that early Saturday
morning. After that, it was Mom who rose early to support me. © 2024 Stephanie Daich |
StatsAuthorStephanie DaichSLC, UTAboutBio- Stephanie Daich writes for readers to explore the soul and escape the mundane. Publications include Making Connections, Youth Imaginations, Chicken Soup for the Soul: Kindness Matters, and others.. more..Writing
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