Chapter 16: Road Work

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 are you passing 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 like 8 kilometers in a game. I’m trying to build up my stamina, uh, Valerie.”

“Just Val, please. OK, you mean soccer and 5 miles, speaking American. 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 wouldn’t be able to defend myself from some 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 little 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, but he didn’t know why, and neither he nor Val cared. Abel did speak Portuguese as well as English. Every so often Val would be entertained when he used words in unusual ways.

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. Good bye!” 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.

Val gasped. On the other side of the living room, 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 about periods, which I didn’t know anything about. About how painful they can be. About how they can affect your moods.

“Val, my mother said something that really hit me. She said I was treating you like 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. AND, you’re a beautiful growing girl. It’s that last part that I should show 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 and the wrapping paper, and here we are.

“When you’re feeling better, I want, I hope to keep running with you. Thinking that I screwed up our partnership has made me so sad.”

“Abel, that’s not going to happen. Tomorrow, I’ll 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 you and me. For raising a wonderful son.”