Chapter 4: Abel to Run

Years earlier, Val was standing on the sidewalk in front of their house. In middle school, there had been a unit on competitive running, and she discovered her love of the sport. But there was a problem. She felt nervous, though, running on her own, being only 12 at the time.

On the sidewalk, she was waiting for Abel Santos. He lived down the street, and she’d seen him running down their street at a set time every afternoon. And there he was! Val put her arms wide to block him.

“Abel! Wait, I need to ask you something. Why do you pass here every day, like this?”

“It’s conditioning. My coach recommended it. I’m a midfielder on my school’s football team, which means I’m running about 8 kilometers in a game. I’m trying to build up my stamina, uh, Valerie.”

“Just Val, please. OK, you mean in American soccer and 5 miles. Do you go to St. John’s? OK. Abel, I want you to help me; it’s really important. Can I go with you on your runs? I just worry while running by myself, I only weigh, let me think, 30 kilos. I’m only 12; I worry that I wouldn’t be able to defend myself from some older asshole.”

“You know what? My mother would never forgive me if I didn’t help you feel safe. Let’s go together.”

Val and Abel became running partners from then on. He was the same age, and they enjoyed a friendly and casual relationship. Right away, he showed Val a better route for their four-mile daily run. No longer was she passing the convenience store, where the creepy high school guys loitered so they could beg older customers to buy them beer and cigarettes. Instead, he showed her the trail into the open space district, where they could run on the soft pine needles in the grove of evergreens.

As time went on, Val learned more about her companion. Abel’s family were immigrants from the Portuguese territory of the Azores Islands in the North Atlantic Ocean. The Santos family all had legal status in the US. He didn’t know why, and neither he nor Val cared. Abel did speak Portuguese along with English, his second language. Every so often, Val enjoyed hearing him use words in unusual ways.

Sadly, cancer struck down Abel’s father. Since Abel was only eight, he has been raised by his mother, Carolina.

About 18 months after they started, Val answered the door with pain evident on her face.

“I can’t run today. I’m having cramps.”

“What did you eat?”

“No, Abel, cramps. Jeez! I’m insulted. Go home and ask your mother. Goodbye!” Val shut the door in his face.

The next day, at the usual time, Abel rang the doorbell. Val, still feeling bad, opened the door. He held out a little bouquet.

“I am sorry, Val. I was ignorant. I hope you’re feeling better today.”

“I’m feeling only a little better. But thank you. Come in for a minute so I can put them in water.”

Then she stopped abruptly. She’d just noticed the nicely wrapped box in Abel’s other hand.

Softly, “What’s in the box?”

“It’s for you, Val; open it, please.”

Shaky, she stepped back and sat awkwardly on the living room sofa. Still holding the little bouquet, he perched next to her and handed her the gift. Val tore off the gilt wrapping paper and found a brand-new electric heating pad, with the shrink wrap and price tags still attached.

She gasped. On the other side of the living room, Val’s mother, Carla, gasped as well. She had seen him with his little spray of flowers and couldn’t help herself. She had to watch and listen in on them.

Val could hardly speak. In a high, thready voice, “Put down the flowers.”

When he did, she wrapped him in her arms and squeezed as hard as she could. Then she released him with a simple question.

“Your mother?”

“Obviously. I didn’t understand. You were angry with me; I didn’t like it. So, I went home and told Mother what happened, and she explained. She explained mensual, sorry, periods, which I didn’t know anything about. She told me they can be so painful and may affect someone’s moods.

“Val, my mother said something that really hit me. She said I was treating you like just another guy, not with respect. She thought your angry reaction was because I wasn’t seeing you as a young woman.

“My mother was right. You’re my running partner. You’re my good friend. You’re a beautiful growing girl. It’s that last part that I should show more respect for.

“I asked her if there was anything that might help you feel better, and she mentioned heat. That’s when I grabbed my money, jumped on my bike, bought the heating pad, wrapping paper, and flowers, and here we are.

“When you’re feeling better, I want, I hope to keep running with you. I was angry at myself and sad, believing I screwed up our partnership.”

“Abel, it’s not screwed up. Tomorrow, my insides will feel better, I hope. Maybe we’ll do a short run. Afterwards, I’m going to stop by your house. Because I need to thank your mother for explaining so well what happened yesterday with us, and thank her for raising a wonderful son.”

Back in the present day, Val and Abel were sprawled on the pine needles. This was their regular place to stop, a peaceful clearing in the evergreen trees at the far end of their out-and-back running route.

Abel wanted to ask her about her approaching (16th) birthday, but he had another question first. It turned out this was a mistake.

“I want to ask you about something delicate, Val, do you mind?”

“Well, now I’m curious. Go ahead.”

“It’s been a long time since we skipped any of our running days for your periods. Did you get tired of having them and decide to just quit?”

“Some things never change. You still don’t understand women. To answer your question, I’m now on implanted hormonal birth control. My monthly cycles aren’t so uncomfortable now.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I try to keep up, but girls are still mysterious to me. I’ve never had a girlfriend, just a friend who is a girl, and I’m a fifteen and three-quarter-year-old virgin.”

“Sometimes you drive me crazy. It’s like your brain and mouth are poorly connected. Fifteen-and-three-quarters? Who talks that way? And *I* am, quote, just a friend who is a girl, unquote? Abel!”

Sadly, she continued, “A good way to STAY a virgin, Abel, is to speak carelessly, thoughtlessly, and foolishly to those who love you.”

Val stood up and turned her back on him. She ran down the path towards home, her eyes downcast and wet. Sitting in the pine needles with his arms around his knees, Abel watched her leave the clearing, then hung his head sadly.

“Fuck me.”

When she returned from the trees, Val went straight to her bedroom, took off her running gear, and took a short shower. Addressing her reflection in the big mirror on the back of the bathroom door, she had one question.

“What is wrong with me?”

Drew was not wrong when he described Val as spectacular. She was 5’ 4”, 100 lbs., and athletic, owing to her regular exercise. By any reasonable standard, she was physically flawless. Even acne had passed her by. Black hair, gray eyes, B-cup breasts, and a 20-inch waist. In her mind, though, the mirror showed just an average and unexceptional high school girl.

“Even Abel doesn’t have an interest, and he sees me more than anybody. Except Nia, and she doesn’t count.”

Val didn’t realize that her peers generally and Abel in particular were becoming more aware of her as one of the most attractive tenth-grade girls at Marvin A. Mooney High School. Some guy had even asked Ted to give his name to his sister. Unfortunately, by the time he got home that day, he had forgotten and never mentioned that name to Val.

Girls in Brazil celebrate Festa de Quinze Anos, literally “Fifteenth Birthday Party” in Portuguese. It is similar to the quinceañeras celebrations held for 15-year-old Latinas (girls). A year before the Baileys were orphaned, Leah and Val attended a Quinze for Abel’s “cousin,” Fernanda Soares.

Abel’s mother, Carolina, had overheard Fernanda’s Brazilian mother, Beatriz, speaking Portuguese at the parish several years prior. Bea and Carolina became fast friends, and their families interacted often. Fernanda, Abel, and Val were all the same age.

Fernanda checked the calendar and decided she should check with Abel.

“Do you know anything about Val’s Sweet 16 party?”

“I don’t know anything.”

His voice was sour; she didn’t like it.

“What? You had a fight? With Val?”

“Yeah, it was something stupid. She probably won’t invite me to her party.”

“The fuck? What did you say to her?”

“Oh, what did *I* say? Forget this.”

He hung up. He was angry that Fernanda had assumed he was in the wrong, even though he felt that she was actually correct.

Fernanda was shocked. Abel was usually pretty easygoing. Then, as these things usually go, Fernanda asked her mother Beatriz, who asked Abel’s mother Carolina, who asked Abel.

Carolina got nowhere with her son.

Next up, then, was Leah.

“Leah, hi, it’s Carolina. Can you tell me what’s happening between Val and Abel?”

“I don’t know anything. I guess I need to talk to her. Her sixteenth birthday’s coming up too. I need to find out what she wants, a party or something else. I don’t know. It’s going to be hard since this is her first birthday without...”

“Of course, I get it. Just let me know what you find out, and I’ll pass it on to Bea and Fernanda.”

“Val, I want to plan your sweet sixteen party. Besides Abel, who else should we invite?”

“No, not Abel. There’s Fernanda and a few girls at school. I’ll give you their names.”

“You don’t want Abel to come? Why?”

“You wouldn’t understand. Leah, you’ve never had a boyfriend.”

“Hey! Don’t insult me just because you’re mad at Abel. You two have been friends for years. Tell me what happened.”

“Abel was complaining. He said, quote, ‘I never had a girlfriend. I just have a friend who is a girl,’ unquote.”

“But, Val, you aren’t having sex with Abel...”

“LEAH!”

“Sorry, Val. You aren’t even kissing him, correct?”

“That’s not the point. Even if I had been thinking about it, now the thought of kissing him is a total turn-off. I feel rejected, I guess.”

“I understand, Val; I do. Let me ask you one thing. Do you think he regrets what he said?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. He doesn’t talk about his feelings.”

“Yeah, Val. He’s got testosterone poisoning, like all males. They talk about everything except their feelings. And he’s fifteen, like you are; like I was just recently.

“Be honest, have you blurted out something you wanted to immediately retract? It’s a rhetorical question. Val, you and I have said the wrong things, lots of times. That’s how people are. With enough bad experiences, they learn to filter.

“Even so, some email systems give you seconds to cancel an email before it is actually transmitted. You have a brief chance to stop yourself. You can’t do that with spoken words, they go out and can’t be called back.”

Leah was leaning forward while engaged with Val. Now, she settled back.

“Before you cancel Abel, you could at least let him apologize. Three years you’ve been running together; three years you’ve been his friend. Give him just five minutes more and see what he does. Will you do that?”

“I guess so. He really hurt my feelings.”

“You can tell him just that. I promise, together, you two can work yourselves out of this mess. I’ll arrange it with Carolina.”

Later, Val walked down the street to Carolina’s (and Abel’s) house.

“Abel, Leah asked me to come see you for a few minutes, in case you had anything you wanted to say to me.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

He became upset when he unexpectedly saw Val in his living room. He couldn’t look her in the eye and was obviously both sad and embarrassed.

“That’s too bad, Abel. I’ll do my running at the high school track since we aren’t friends anymore.”

“Oh, NO! Val, I’m sorry. I say stupid things all the time. I never want to upset you.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you said that I was only a ‘friend who is a girl.’ Maybe you should find another girl to spend time with—someone who will be special to you. Someone else, Abel, that you could consider your girlfriend.”