The Escape Collection: (The Escape Collection) (39 page)

Besides, I knew her body. I'd seen her. I'd helped her bathe. Helped her into her clothes. I’d helped her onto the toilet. I knew what the chemo had done to her.

“Don't be sorry, Rori,” she said so quietly I had to lean in to hear her. “Just run. Please.”

I didn’t run. I never ran. It was an old joke, but the only way I was going to run was if someone was chasing me. Addy had tried for years to make me into an athlete like her. But I wasn’t built that way. Whenever I let her talk me into going to a class with her or meeting her at the gym, I would ache for days. And running, no way.
 

“For me, Rori. Run for me,” she said. “Run for my mom.”
 

I got up and readjusted her blanket, tucking it tightly around her legs. If she got too cold it would take an effort to warm her up again. And I couldn’t risk her getting sick. “It means that much to you?” I asked.

Her smile made her come alive. “You know it does. I've done the breast cancer run every year since my mom died.”

“I know.” I was there every year. Cheering her on at the finish line.

“You'll do it, won't you, Rori?”
 

I nodded. Of course I'd do it.

Chapter 3

“I - call - bullshit.” I gasped as I came to a stop in front of Addison’s chair. I almost crashed into her, my feet could barely function properly.

“What are you talking about? What’s bullshit?” Addy handed me a water bottle. “Here, drink something. You’re pretty red.”

I tried to gulp down some water, between efforts to suck air into my burning lungs. The result was a sputtering, hacking cough.
 

“Take slow, deep breaths.”
 

Was she serious? I'd settle for any breaths at all. I collapsed to the grass in front of Addison and dumped the water on my face.
 

“Oh, now you're just being dramatic,” she said.

When I recovered enough to see straight, I pulled myself up to a sitting position and pretended to stretch. My new white sneakers glared in the sunlight.
 

“What’s bullshit?” Addy asked again.

I looked at her. “This runner’s high I keep hearing about. It’s some bullshit story, made up by the running shoe people.”

She laughed and her eyes sparkled. They didn't do that much anymore. “It’s not bullshit.”

“It is.” I grabbed another water bottle and gulped hard. “This is the stupidest sport ever.”

“Rori, you’re doing great. Don’t get frustrated.”

“Addy, this sucks. It sucks so bad, I can’t even tell you how bad it sucks.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth I wanted them back. I looked up at her again sitting in her lawn chair at the edge of the track. She came every day, wrapped in a blanket to fight the chill, and encouraged me as I huffed and puffed around in circles. I knew how much energy it took her. I knew how badly she wished she could be the one running. I also knew she wouldn’t say anything.
 

“I’m sorry, Addy. I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did,” she said. “It’s okay, it does suck when you’re learning to run.”
 

“That's not what I meant.”
 

“I know what you meant.” Her eyes were intense. The subject was closed.

I looked away, back to my new runners. Two days after I agreed to doing the run, I went out and bought my first pair of running shoes. At least, the first pair I’d ever actually run in. At Addison’s urging I also shelled out for a slick looking shirt made from some space age fabric, and even slicker looking shorts. She insisted, as did the store employees who made a hefty commission from me, that running was easier and more fun when you looked good.

After training four days a week for three weeks, I could barely run two kilometers without passing out, and I wasn't yet convinced that looking good had anything to do with it. Although, I would admit that my shorts were starting to feel looser. It was the only reason I stuck with the crazy training regime Addy had drawn up for me. I looked up as a cough racked her ravaged body. Well, not the only reason.
 

“It’s true, you know,” she said after a moment.

“What?”

“The runner’s high,” Addy said. “It really does exist. You’ll see.”

I stood up and stretched out my back. “Well, even if I don’t experience this elusive runner’s high, I will definitely experience the high brought on by ibuprofen every night.” I winked at her.
 

“Okay, enough rest. Get back out there.”

“You can’t be serious?”
 

“Dead serious.” She said and I shot her a look. “Okay, I’m
very
serious.”
 

“Slave driver.” I tossed the empty water bottle to the ground and headed back onto the track. I started my slow, barely more than a shuffle, run.

“It gets easier,” Addy tried to yell. “I promise."

Chapter 4

Addy was right, Addy was always right. Running did get easier. I even started to enjoy it a little bit. But not because it felt good or it gave me any sense of accomplishment, but because it was something we could do together. Something that didn't involve doctor appointments, medicine or treatment schedules.
 

Four times a week, I’d come home from work, pick up Addison and we’d go to the track. It didn’t matter how sick she looked or how weak she felt, she came with me every time. And despite what she was going through, Addy never complained. Not ever. Which made it kind of hard for me to whine about sucking wind, my sore big toe that constantly throbbed in my shoe, and my general unhappiness with the whole sport.
 

By the time the breast cancer run came near, I was ready. Sort of. I wasn't going to set any records but that was okay, because as Addison pointed out, it was my first 10km ever, so no matter what time I got, it would be a personal best.

“I'm going to puke,” I said the night before the run.

“Uh huh.” Addy didn't look up.

She sat at the kitchen table flipping through old magazines. She looked better than she had in months, her last chemo treatment was just over a month behind her and it was amazing how much healthier she looked once they stopped pumping poison through her veins. Her skin wasn't quite so sallow, the dark smudges under her eyes were almost gone and even her energy was coming back. I dared to hope the chemo had worked. She'd been for tests two days ago. They needed to come back clear.

“Addy, I’m serious. I'm so nervous.”

I sat across from her, trying to take my mind off the long ten kilometers I would be running in less than twelve hours. My knees bounced against the table, my fingers tapped the surface. Addy finally looked up and smiled.
 

“You about done?”

I shoved back my chair and resumed pacing. “I should sleep,” I said.
 
“I know I should try and get some sleep. But how can I sleep when I'm going to die tomorrow?”
 

Addy laughed, “If anyone is going to die, it's me.”
 

I froze and shot her a look. She just laughed harder.
 

“Wait here.” She pushed back from the table and left the room only to reappear moments later holding a gift bag. “I got you something.”

“Why?” I took the bag from her.

“Rori, I'm proud of you. This is huge, what you're doing.”

I blinked hard.

“Don't cry.” She warned. “Open it.”

Removing the tissue paper, I pulled out a hot pink t-shirt; it was slippery beneath my fingers.
 

“I keep telling you, Rori, it's all about the gear and how you look.” Addy smiled.
 

I held out the shirt, grasping it by both shoulders. Emblazoned across the chest was: Veronica's Run

I looked up and forced myself to look at Addy. At the way her t-shirt hugged the gentle swell of her left breast, and hung loose, lonely on the right. She didn't like to wear the special bra with the prosthesis in it. I tried to encourage it, but she said it felt strange so I didn't push. Everything we'd been through, the chemo, the long nights when I sat with her holding her hair while she threw up. And then, when her hair was gone, and I rubbed her back. The tears, the long talks about death, it was over. I knew it was. The tests would come back and everything would be fine.

“I don't know what to say.” Tears leaked out the corners of my eyes.
 

Addison waved her hand, “Turn it around.” She ordered.
 

I did as I was told and broke out in a grin. It read: Bosom Buddies.

“Isn't it great?” Addy said.

“It's perfect.” I laughed through my tears.

Chapter 5

The next morning the sun shone as I lined up with more than a thousand other runners at the start line. The horn blared and we were off. I wasn't in it for speed, I just needed to do it. For Addison, for her mother and for Veronica.
 

To my surprise I felt good. I passed the kilometer five sign. Half way there. I had a good pace going, and I wasn't struggling. Things were looking good. When I hit the dreaded kilometer eight, the distance I always struggled with, I was pleasantly shocked when my body didn't immediately shut down and demand to stop. But by the time I passed the sandwich board declaring kilometer number nine, I wasn't sure if I could continue to put one foot in front of the other. Not for one more second, let alone a whole kilometer.

“You can do it, Rori.”
 

“Excuse me?” A fellow runner, dressed in spandex shorts and a pale blue t-shirt broke her stride slightly as she passed me.

“Oh...sorry...talking...to...my...self...” I managed to puff out.
 

The runner smiled knowingly, “You
can
do it, Rori.”
 
She said before resuming her pace.

Of course you can do it. I thought. This is way easier than what Addy went through.
I focused on my breathing as I watched the other runner move further ahead of me. If she could do it, why couldn’t I? It was just one foot in front of the other. Simple.
 

I can do this. I can do this.
 

I repeated my simple, silent mantra over and over until it became part of my rhythm, matching my stride. Before I realized it, the heavy feeling in my feet faded, my legs seemed lighter, the color of the sky bluer, the grass looked crisper, I felt like I was being pulled along by a string. The phantom runner's high? Could it be?
 

Soon I could hear the cheers of the waiting crowd. The finish line was in sight.
 
I quickened my pace, and pulled strength from places I didn't know I had.
 

I can do this I can do this I can do this.

Miraculously I picked Addison out of the crowd. Dressed in her matching hot pink shirt, she was jumping up and down cheering me on.
 

I reached deeper, willing my legs to move faster.
 

Before I knew it, my feet were moving across the finish line, a volunteer was putting a medal around my neck and people were yelling and cheering. I couldn't focus on anything but somehow my legs kept moving as I looked around searching the crowd for Addison. And then she was there, her arms around me, squeezing me.

“I'm so proud of you! You did it. And, you did it with style. That was an awesome finish.”

I couldn’t speak, I could barely breathe, but I gratefully accepted a bottle of water.

I let Addy lead me away from the finish line to the shade of a poplar tree where I collapsed on the grass.
 

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“Shitty,” I said. “And freaking amazing!”

She laughed. “You should feel freaking amazing, that was an awesome run. You did Veronica proud. And me.”

We sat together on the grass until my breathing returned to normal and the color faded from my face.
 

“Thank you,” Addy said.

“For running?” I said. “You'll never believe this, but I actually kind of like it.”

“I don't mean for the run,” she said. There was something in her tone. I turned to look at her. Tears shone in her eyes. “I mean for everything. You didn't have to do what you did, taking care of me like that.”

“Yes I did.”

“No, Rori. You didn't. Thank you.”

I nodded.
 

“I want you to know that I'll never put you through that again. I remember what it’s like. And I won't make you go through that again. I promise.”

“I'd do it a thousand times,” I said, and I meant it.

“That's the thing. You'll never have to. It isn't fair to you.”

“I'll never have to because you're cancer free, you mean?” I punched her playfully on the arm. I didn’t want to talk about it any more. “Its kind of a non-issue, don’t you think? When you get your test results back, it's party time.”

She nodded. “You’re right,” she said. “You know what? I think we should go to Panama early this year. I don't want to wait.”

 
“Sure.” The idea of sitting on a beach sounded fabulous. “As soon as we get your results, we'll start planning.”

“Forget waiting,”' she said. “I feel great. I know what the results are going to say. Let's go now. Right away.”

She was smiling. Radiant. “Why not,” I heard myself say. “Let's go.”

Chapter 6

The sand squished beneath my toes and my feet slid out at awkward angles with every foot stroke. “This is way harder than running on pavement,” I gasped.

“But way more beautiful.” Addy increased her stride and I had to work twice as hard to keep up to her long legs. It was unreal how much energy she had. “Besides, you can’t complain about running in paradise. It’s not allowed.”

“Not complaining, just saying.” I pushed myself harder, and overtook her by a foot length.

Addison laughed. “Come on, let’s race.”

Without waiting for an answer, she poured it on and took off down the beach. I dug deep and charged after her. I knew I could beat her. Even with her gazelle like legs, she wasn’t strong enough to run very long, very fast. I let her go ahead and soon we were back at our blankets.