The Running Diaries: Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Ben Havleck, February 2016
            “Oh no! My evil step mother stole my car, what will I do now?”
            “MuwHaha you’re stuck now! Go back in and clean the house! We are off to the ball!”
            “That’s not fair! I’m supposed to meet my Prince Charming at the ball.”
            “Have no fear princess! I’m here to save you! Quick, jump on my back I’ll run you to the ball!”
            “Ben that’s not how the story goes … The godmother can’t carry Cinderella all the way to the ball …”
            “Oh yeah?” And dropping his own doll, he scooped up his little sister and hoisted her onto his back. Ben ran around the house as Cayley giggled with glee.
            “Ok, now it’s time for the ball! I’ll go get the dresses!” She exclaimed. When he put her down, she disappeared upstairs. As she left, Ben’s mother replaced her daughter in the room.
            “Tag in for me, Mom?” He reached into the closet, grabbing a pair of snow boots and his signature navy blue and gray knit hat. “I have to get to work by 7.”
            “I’ll take over, but only because your evil stepmother voice could give someone nightmares.” To avoid tripping, she picked up some of the toys lying on the floor and placed them on the dining room table.
            “I think Cinderella is going to wear her blue dress because that’s the Prince’s favorite color!” Cayley called to the two of them from her room.
            Ben’s mother smiled. “The two of you have always had such powerful imaginations.” There was a short reminiscent pause then, “Do you want to pack a snack in case you get hungry later?” She stuck her head into the fridge and searched for something suitable. “Or maybe just a granola bar?” Reaching up she picked a chocolate chip flavored bar from a box above her head and tossed it to Ben.
            “Thanks Mom.” He walked over and gave her a quick hug, before turning back for the door.
            “Bye, Cayley!” he called as he pulled open the front door.
            “Bye, fairy godmother!”

            Working at Barnes and Noble was far from the most glamorous job, but it was neither strenuous nor particularly difficult. This was perfect for Ben, who liked having the down time to let his body recover from the pounding it took during his demanding training. At the bookstore, his tasks oscillated between inventory, cashier work and customer service. On slow nights, Ben often had the chance to read from a variety of books including his personal favorite: a training guide from running legend Matt McWilliams. The book was packed with extensive workout descriptions and other important information. For Ben this book was crucial to his future success. He was currently coaching himself, a difficult task for any athlete, let alone a junior in High School.

            Unfortunately, tonight he would not have the opportunity to dive deeper into his research. Sundays were typically busy as the store was filled with a mix of students looking to study and adults finishing a weekend of errands. Ben straightened his nametag in the back room mirror and played with his hair until it was to his liking before stepping out onto the floor. Tonight, he would be patrolling the non-fiction sections, an especially popular spot for undergrads looking to finalize last minute history papers.
            His shift began when he came across an older lady, looking to buy a book for her grandson. “He spends too much time playing video games! If I was his mother I would confiscate that z-box and not give it back to him until he ran around outside and ate some carrots.” Hoping her grandson was an Assassin’s Creed fan, Ben opted for a book on the American Revolution. Once he had shuffled her along to the cash register, Ben had moments to relax before he was quickly engaged by a new customer: an attractive young woman in her early twenties.
            “Excuse me … what are your opinions on the power of love?” she asked him, glancing through a row of books.
            “Oh well …um,” he was slightly taken aback by this seemingly forward question. For his response, he aimed for something both mysterious and poetic. “Love has lots of powers, some say love at first sight is-”
            “No, I mean is it a good book?” she held out a paper book, striped with red and gold that was clearly titled The Power of Love. Ben fought the urge to plunge his hand straight into his face. “Valentine’s Day is coming up and my boyfriend and I have only been dating a couple months … so I don’t want to be too pushy … but I also want him to know I’m cool with things getting more serious … You know?” Ben had a difficult time staring back at her. Clearly, interacting with girls was not among his most marketable skills. 
            “That’s true … Men are beasts that don’t like to be tamed.” The words left his mouth without him ever meaning to release them. Seriously? He thought to himself, Did you just become possessed by the ghost of Ron Burgundy?
            “Right … maybe just something from the sports section?” And with some direction from Ben on where to go next, she was gone, mercifully saving him from any further embarrassment. With a great sigh, he turned and began re-alphabetizing The Power of Love and its companions. Occasionally, he took a covert look at the sports section, watching his co-worker, Neal, function perfectly normally under the same set of circumstances that he had just butchered. After the woman had set off to make her purchase, Neal wandered over to join Ben who was now slumped up against the side of one of his section’s bookshelves.
            Neal was a few years older than Ben, a sophomore at Bloomsburg University. He commuted from home to school and spent most weekends working at Barnes and Noble, which had allowed him to earn a junior manager position the previous June. Neal was tall and wiry with buzzed black hair. Ben liked Neal; he was charismatic, witty and approachable. 
            “In the mood for a little romance, Ben?” he said as he approached.
            “Look, it was a very confusing book title. Anyone could have made that mistake!” He was not in the mood to be ridiculed for his previous humiliation.
            “Woah there, what are you talking about, man?” Neal looked at him, taken-aback.  
            “I’m talking about-”, his defiance evaporated as he paused in confused, “Wait … what were you talking about?”
            “You’re leaning up against a stack of romantic novels …” Neal gestured at the shelf Ben was leaning up against.
            “Right … Ha … Good one!” Ben produced a half-hearted laugh. This the last time I’m working in this section of the store.
            Walking over, Neal joined Ben, leaning up against the shelf next to him.
            “What’s up kid,” he said, “You seem a little down.”
            “Well …” Ben subtly checked to see if anyone was nearby before mumbling, “I can’t talk to girls.” To his frustration, Neal merely chuckled at this heartfelt confession. He returned Neal’s smile with a look of exasperation.
            “Ben, can you talk to guys?” He said seriously.
            “Well, of course I can, but I don’t see-”
            “Then you can talk to girls. It’s the same thing, don’t overthink it.” He pushed himself upright from his position against the novels. Neal considered his younger coworker briefly. “You play any sports, Ben?”
            “Yeah, I’m a runner.”
            “Close enough,” Neal replied to which Ben shook his head and smiled. “Not every day is a race, you have to go out and practice right? Well, every night here on the floor, consider those your practice sessions. There’s no pressure, you aren’t trying to win, you’re just trying to get better.”
            “Haha, thanks Coach,” Ben replied sarcastically. Neal extended a hand so that Ben could pull himself to his feet as well.
            “Yeah that’s a good idea. You can’t practice properly without a good coach.” Together Neal and Ben began to wander around the store, Neal gesturing dramatically as he spoke. “Plus, since I’m in charge of the floors most nights, I can set you up in the prime locations for maximum female interactions.” Ben laughed, amused.
            “Are you sure you’re qualified to be my coach?”
            “I’m not sure anyone is …. I mean, you are a beast that doesn’t like to be tamed.”

Ben Havleck, November 1^st 2016

            Snap back to reality … Oh, there goes gravity. Oh, there goes Rabbit … He choked. He’s so mad, but he won’t give up that easy, no …
            “This stop is Hershey! Hershey, Pennsylvania!”
            Ben, who had been staring dreamily out of his window, suddenly realized the bus was at his stop. Somewhat frantically, he scrambled to pick up his bags and made his way out the front door. With one headphone still in his ear and the other dangling across his chest, he stepped of the bus into the cool morning air. It was near perfect weather for a cross country race.
            Checking his watch, he noticed it was only 8:43, meaning his race would not begin for almost four hours. However, the first races of the day, the girl’s small school race, would start at 9 o’clock, at least giving him something to do. As he approached the starting area, he noticed the clutter of tents filling the grass and the hundreds of runners sheltered at them. Some were stretching or doing drills looking serious, others were throwing around Frisbees or footballs.
            Ben wandered over to an open spot, away from most of the clutter and noise. He preferred to avoid the distractions and focus on his plan. From his bag, he produced a navy blue and gray hat, which he pulled over his ears. Then he removed a maroon and yellow blanket, laying it carefully across the grass. He put his missing headphone back in place as he sat down on the blanket.
            So the soap opera is told and unfolds, I suppose it’s old partner … But the beat goes on, da da dum da dum da da da da …  
            Absentmindedly, he absorbed the preparation around him. Embracing the energy and excitement hanging in the air before the day’s first champions were to be crowned. To his left, a team of girls he recognized from the district two championships was huddled together around its coach, who appeared to be giving her final instructions. When finished, she extended her hand toward her seven athletes who, in turn, copied her motion.
            “Gaels on three … One … Two … Three … GAELS!”
            “You know, I really think we should consider doing a cheer before the race,”
            Ben jumped at the sound of the man’s voice, turning around to see a slim, older figure approaching his set up.
            “You know how ridiculous that would look with one person?” Ben said, smiling. He positioned himself to get up, but was waved back to the ground by his visitor.
            “Stay off your feet, kid,” the man said, slowly easing himself onto the blanket next to Ben. He was graying slightly, but still looked fit and strong. Even at his current age, which Ben estimated was mid-fifties, he looked capable of finishing the course faster than some of the high schoolers playing catch. “You have a nice trip in?”
            “Eh, it was fine. I slept for some of it. When did you get here?”
            “About the same time you did, I’d imagine,” he paused as a slight wind brushed the trees, followed shortly by a soft blast from a distant starting pistol. “Now which race is this?”
            “Single ‘A’ girls,” Ben said, checking a print out of a schedule he kept in his pocket. “And then single ‘A’ boys at 9:45.” He looked up from the paper to stare at his companion who was absentmindedly watching the pack of lead runners emerge from behind the row of tents. “Starting to bring back memories, Coach?”
            The old man smiled and shook his head, “Probably not the ones you would expect …”