The day dawned clear and bright ‒ a perfect early September day to spend with Kieran in the woods; a terrible day to start school.
Isaiah sighed, climbed out of bed, washed up as best he could in the cold water, got dressed, and went into the kitchen for breakfast. When he finished, he put the dishes in the sink and Walter went with him out to the truck. He had his backpack, which held a binder, some paper, pencils and pens, and a bag lunch. Walter dropped him off in Allagash to catch the bus and left without waiting until it came. Soon, other high school kids gathered, laughing and chatting with each other and casting sidelong, curious glances at the new boy.
When the bus pulled up, Isaiah waited until the others had boarded and then climbed on and looked for a place to sit. He chose an empty seat about a third of the way back and gazed out the window as the bus drove on. Each time it stopped it picked up a few students, all of whom seemed to know each other. They chattered as the rode along, leaving the seat beside Isaiah empty.
By the time the bus arrived at the school it was nearly full, but there was still nobody sitting next to Isaiah. He sighed and got off the bus.
Thanks to the tour he had gotten the day before he knew where to go and where his locker was. Putting his jacket in his locker, he went into the classroom and chose a desk about a third of the way back. Other students came in and one of them said to him, “Yer sittin’ in my seat.”
“How could it be ‘his seat’ on the first day of school?” Isaiah wondered. But he moved. Twice more he had to move before he found a desk which nobody else seemed to want. On one side of him was the wall; on the other side was a skinny, freckle-faced girl with braces. She smiled at him and he tried to smile back but he wasn’t feeling very smiley.
The teacher called the class to order, took attendance, and gave them the usual beginning-of-school speech about behavior, homework, behavior, trying hard, behavior, etc. The room was their homeroom, where, as it happened, Isaiah also had English. But that wasn’t until fourth period. So when the bell rang he rose with the rest and went to find the math room.
The morning passed slowly. Nobody spoke to him except occasionally a teacher. In English he received a book of short stories and a grammar book. Grammar was definitely his least favorite school subject. On the other hand, reading was probably his most favorite, so he decided to endure the grammar to get on with the reading.
At lunch he went to the cafeteria and sat at a table, pulling out the sandwich he had made at home. He didn’t have money to buy the school lunch, and besides, in his memory, school lunches were pretty dreadful. The skinny girl with the braces sat with him, saying that her name was Catherine. Isaiah nodded but didn’t offer his own. She tried to start a conversation, but soon gave up when he was unresponsive. They finished their lunches in silence.
His gym class was in the afternoon. The boys in the class shot baskets for a while until the gym teacher blew his whistle and told them all to sit on the bleachers. He told them, among other things, what clothes they needed‒basketball shoes, which Isaiah had, a couple of T-shirts, which he had, dark blue shorts, which he didn’t have, and a jock strap. At that there was some tittering in the bleachers which the teacher ignored. Isaiah wasn’t even sure what a jock strap was, and he supposed he would have to ask Walter.
“You can call me Coach,” the teacher said, “and I hope you’ll all try out for some of our teams through the year. If you do that, you can skip gym and have a study hall instead.”
“Whoopee!” said the boy beside Isaiah under his breath.
“What was that, Carter?” asked Coach.
“Nothing, sir.”
“Stand up when you talk to me!”
“Yes sir.” Carter stood and repeated, “Nothing, Sir.”
“You there,” said the coach pointing at Isaiah. “What did he say?”
Isaiah thought quickly. If he told the coach what Carter had said, he’d be in trouble with the other boys, but if he didn’t, he’d be in trouble with the coach.
Taking a deep breath, he stood and said, “I didn’t hear him, sir,” and sat back down.
“I bet you didn’t,” said the coach.
They didn’t shower that day because they hadn’t really worked up a sweat. Isaiah was both sad and relieved because, while he would welcome a hot shower, he also thought it could be rather embarrassing.
The day ended at last and Isaiah got back on the bus. He sat, once again, alone. And then someone sat next down next to him—Carter. “Oh shit!” Isaiah thought. “Now what?”
Carter said nothing until the bus got moving. Then he looked at Isaiah and said, “Thanks for saving my bacon. Coach can carry a grudge. He has one for me left over from last year. The last thing I needed to do was start this year off on the wrong foot. I hope he doesn’t hold a grudge against you now.”
Isaiah only nodded.
“So you’re new here. You don’t talk much, do you?”
Isaiah shook his head.
“Where are you from?” When Isaiah told him Carter asked, “Why the hell did you move up here to this shit hole?”
“My mom died and my dad lives up here.”
Carter looked thoughtful. “Is he the hermit in the woods?”
“He’s not a hermit.”
“Well he almost never comes into town and he never has anything to do with anybody else here.”
“I guess he’s like me. He doesn’t talk much.”
Carter grunted, stood up, and moved to a seat beside a friend. As he moved down the aisle, the bus driver yelled, “Sit down, Carter! Don’t tell me we’re going to have another year like the last one!” Some of the kids laughed, but quickly stopped when they saw Carter’s face.
On Saturday, Walter took Isaiah into Allagash to buy his gym shorts and jock straps, having gruffly explained to Isaiah what jock straps were for. He also got him a pair of boots, saying that Isaiah would need them come winter.
The next day, Sunday, the boys met at the swimming hole, although they no longer swam. As usual, they stripped and lay facing each other and enjoying the late August sun. Then Kieran leaned over and began one of their now all too infrequent kisses. As they kissed, Isaiah felt Kieran’s tongue on his lips. He was startled at first but then he opened his mouth and Kieran’s tongue darted in and began to feel about in his mouth. Isaiah felt a tingling in his groin. This was a new and even more wonderful sensation, and soon they were both doing it, grabbing each other’s cocks and bringing them to electrifying climaxes. Neither one had any idea why Kieran had thought to do that. It just seemed natural. And from then on, that was the way they kissed.
Later, they went to Kieran’s fishing hole, where Isaiah had gotten quite proficient at tickling fish. He caught one and gave it to Kieran for his supper.
They parted with a lingering kiss at the edge of the woods before Isaiah went into the meadow, peed, and walked into the cabin for supper.
Isaiah had noticed that Walter was talking with him more now, though he was never exactly talkative. He had also noticed that, no matter how much Walter drank, and he consumed great quantities of beer, he never got drunk.
It had grown dark enough in the evenings that Isaiah did his homework by the light of a lantern unless he could do it when the power was on. He realized he had brought his computer but not his printer from home. So for the moment all his homework had to be hand written. Later, a teacher suggested he could download his homework onto a disc and print it off in the school library before school began, which he did, making his homework much easier.
As Walter had told him earlier, his new job was to clean the lanterns in the morning. So in order to dress, eat breakfast, clean the lanterns, and catch the bus he had to get up by 5:00 in the morning, while it was still dark. Sometimes he was able to doze on the bus.
On Monday, gym was again after lunch. The coach took them outside to the football field and told them they were going to run races the length of the field. He broke them up into three groups so there would be plenty of room across the starting line. Isaiah was in the third group. While he knew he wasn’t good at ball sports, he did love to run, and he was looking forward to his race.
The coach stood at the opposite end of the field to judge the winners. When he blew his whistle, the first group started racing. The coach picked the fastest three to run in a final heat.
The second group raced and three more winners were picked. Then it was Isaiah’s turn. His group all lined up and took off on the whistle. With fast, easy strides Isaiah forged ahead of the others and won by several yards.
“Not fair, Coach,” Carter, who had come in last and was breathing hard, complained. “His foot was over the line.”
“Was it five yards over the line, Carter?”
“No sir,” said Carter glumly.
“Or, I should say ‘more than ten yards’ since that’s what he beat you by?”
Two winners in addition to Isaiah were chosen and told to line up with the winners of the other heats. When Isaiah lined up, he stood two yards behind the starting line. He knew Carter was watching, and he didn’t want any more complaints.
Carter turned to a friend and said, “He’ll never win now. Not if he starts there.”
The coach blew his whistle and the nine boys raced off. By the 60 yard mark, Isaiah had caught up with the leaders. From there he raced ahead, only slowing down once he crossed the finish line.
The other boys were gracious enough to congratulate him, and the coach said he should join the football team as a running back or a wide receiver.
Then they all went in for showers. Bashfully, Isaiah undressed and went into the showers, choosing one in the corner where he could turn away from the others.
“What’cha hidin’ from?” Carter shouted across the shower room at Isaiah.
Isaiah felt himself blushing but he didn’t answer.
Some of the boys laughed, but then one spoke up saying, “Leave him alone, Carter. You’re just mad because he beat you so badly.”
Again some of the boys laughed.
“You’ll get yours, Phillip!” he said.
“Sure I will,” retorted Phillip. “From you and what army?”
At that, the boys made little oohing sounds. They knew that it wasn’t safe to cross Carter. But Phillip didn’t seem concerned. He was a large boy, tall, with broad shoulders and very well-developed muscles.
The boys left the showers without incident, toweled off, dressed, turned in their towels, and went off to their next class.
On the bus that afternoon, Phillip sat with Isaiah. He told Isaiah he was a lineman on the football team, and, looking at his physique, Isaiah could see why. He was also good-looking, his black hair falling attractively across his forehead towards his left eye. His face, shaded by a hint of five o’clock shadow, glowed with good health. His lively blue eyes glinted in the afternoon light and seemed full of laughter. As Carter passed Phillip, he said under his breath, “You just wait.”
“I can hardly contain myself,” said Phillip, laughing aloud, flicking his hair away from his eye. Some of the nearby kids snickered.
When Carter had passed, Phillip said to Isaiah, “Watch your back. Carter doesn’t like to be laughed at.”
Isaiah nodded. He had figured that much out for himself.
From that day on, Isaiah and Phillip became good friends. They rode the bus together and ate lunch together. When the boys were told to pair off in gym class, they often paired together.
One day they were told by the coach to “Pair off in threes.” Phillip and Isaiah looked at each other and burst out laughing.
When Isaiah rode home with his father one afternoon, he saw half the meadow had been cut.
“What’d you do that for?” he asked.
“So it’ll grow back in the spring. If I didn’t do that every year the meadow’d soon be part of the woods.”
“Oh. So you like having the meadow?”
“Yup. I like to be able to look out and see the sky, not just trees. I’ll cut the other half tomorrow.”
Sure enough, when Isaiah returned home the next day, the other half of the meadow had been cut back. He wondered how it would look in the spring.
In the following days, Isaiah noticed that the hardwood trees around the cabin were changing colors to red, gold, and orange, and the occasional hardwoods in the forest were also changing.
One afternoon on Isaiah’s way in from the athletic fields with Phillip, Carter jumped on Phillip’s back and threw him to the ground, pummeling him. Isaiah began to intervene, but Phillip said, “Stay out of this. This is my fight.”
With that he grabbed Carter’s arm, twisting it and throwing him onto the grass. Then he sat on the struggling Carter telling him exactly what he thought of him.
The coach came up and asked what was going on. Carter whined, “Phillip attacked me for no good reason.”
Isaiah was incensed, but he and Phillip both told the coach what really happened. Carter was given detention for the next day and went home with a note for his parents to sign.
As Carter walked past them on the afternoon bus, he looked at Phillip and said, “Bastard!”
“Well at least I know who my father is,” said Phillip quietly.
Carter grew beet red and moved to the back of the bus.
Phillip said quietly to Isaiah, “Carter is one of seven kids, and as near as anyone can figure out, each one has a different father.”
“You aren’t really a bastard, are you?” Isaiah asked.
“No,” Phillip laughed out loud. “I’m certainly not. And neither are my two brothers or my sister.”
The next day, at the end of gym, the coach pulled Isaiah over and asked if he’d thought about joining the football team. Isaiah told him that he was terrible with balls, he couldn’t seem to either catch them or hold them. Then the coach asked him if he’d be willing to compete in a track meet. There was one in Caribou the following Saturday and he had no real runners on his squad.
Isaiah, thinking it might not be wise to say no to the coach a second time without at least a good reason, said he would ask his father.
At first, Walter was against the idea. He didn’t think much of teams or school sports, but finally, when Isaiah said it might get the coach off his back for a while, Walter agreed and then offered to drive Isaiah to and from the meet. Isaiah said that a bus would be going from the school so all he needed was a ride to the bus and back.
When Isaiah told the coach the next day that he would run, the coach said he should get some track shoes.
“I don’t think my dad’ll buy shoes for one race.”
“OK,” said the coach, “I’ll see if I can find some used ones that’ll fit.”
On the day of the track meet, Isaiah was surprised when his father said that he wanted to see the meet. Arriving at the school, Isaiah met the coach and introduced him to Walter. The coach shook hands warmly and Walter grunted, which for him was an effusive greeting. The coach gave Isaiah some shoes to try on, but they were too small. He said he could run okay in his sneakers. The coach just shrugged and Isaiah got on the bus without looking back.
As they were riding to the meet, one of the kids in the back of the bus yelled, “Who’s that old geezer in the truck behind us?”
Isaiah shrank down in his seat wishing he could just disappear.
Phillip, who, as usual, was sitting next to him asked, “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong is that that ‘old geezer’ is my father, and I guess I’m kinda embarrassed.”
“Well don’t be,” said Phillip. “Most of the parents care so little they never come to meets or games.”
Isaiah just shook his head helplessly.
When they arrived at the meet, there were other yellow busses there and high school boys and girls all over the field, talking and laughing together. Eventually, an official blew a whistle and told the athletes to sit in the bleachers until their event was called.
The first event called was the boys’ hundred meter dash. While they lined up, some field events started on the infield.
Some of the other racers picked up on the fact that Isaiah didn’t have running shoes.
“Man,” said one, “you are gonna get creamed!”
Isaiah just shrugged.
They lined up on the starting line, Isaiah being sure that his foot was behind the line. At the starting gun they took off. Halfway through the race, Isaiah forged in front, winning by several yards.
The boy who had told him he was going to get creamed came over and congratulated him. “How the hell did you do that?” he asked.
Isaiah just shrugged again and went back to the stands to watch the girls’ race. That was a closer race and he realized that close races were more enjoyable to watch.
Then the boys’ 200 meter race was called and again Isaiah found himself on the starting line. This time he coasted at the front until the last few meters and then charged ahead. He was beginning to enjoy the cheering from the stands.
His next race was 400 meters. There was an oval track around the infield where he lined up again. This time he stayed back until the last few yards before charging ahead.
His final race alone was the mile. In this race he didn’t hold back. He just wanted to see what he could do. By the time he finished everyone in the stands was standing and cheering, and some of the boys from his school came out to congratulate him, pounding his back and bouncing all around him. He looked over at his father, who was standing on the sidelines, his face expressionless.
“Geez,” thought Isaiah, “couldn’t he at least smile?”
After that, there were some hurdle races, so Isaiah rested in the stands until the one mile relay race was called. The coach had chosen who was to run, Isaiah being the final runner of the four on his team.
The runners all went to their respective starting places and the starting gun was fired. By the end of the first quarter mile, Isaiah’s team was in fourth out of six places. By the end of the next quarter mile, it was sixth and falling back. The runner who would hand the baton to Isaiah started off well and made up a little space on the fifth-place runner but then he began to fall back. Isaiah could feel himself urging the runner on. They had had only one practice in passing the baton, but fortunately, the exchange went smoothly and Isaiah ran as he had never run before. He tore around the track, passing runner after runner. When he got even with the second-place runner, he saw the boy in first place look back. The kids in the stands began chanting, “Go! Go! Go!” Isaiah knew that that look back would slow the first-place runner down, and he churned forward through the last few yards, beating the boy by a stride.
At the end of the meet, medals were passed out to the winners. When it came time for Isaiah to receive his medals, the announcer said, “First of all, this is only the second time in the history of this meet that a freshman has won first place in a race.” There was loud cheering. “And second,” the man continued, “this is the first time ever that a runner has won all five races.”
Again the kids in the stands stood and cheered. And it wasn’t just the kids from his school. It was everyone who knew that they had seen something extraordinary that day.
There was a photographer there who took Isaiah’s picture with his five gold medals. Then all the competitors went to their busses for the ride home. Except for the rest of his relay team, Isaiah was the only one from his school who had won an event, although a few had come in second or third. But as is so often the case on high school busses, the ride back was raucous and Isaiah enjoyed himself.
When they got back to the school, Isaiah looked for his father, who pulled up in the truck. As soon as he got in the truck, Walter turned to him and said, “Well, pretty proud of yerself are ya?”
Isaiah heard what he thought was sarcasm in Walter’s voice. “No,” he said quietly, “I just enjoyed the running.”
“And were ya showin’ off when ya took it easy in them middle two races?”
“No. I just knew that I had more races to run and I didn’t wanna wear myself out. I had never run distances like that before and I had no idea how I would do.”
Walter grunted and the ride back to the cabin was in silence.
It was nearly time for supper when they got back, so Isaiah went outside and sat on the porch steps until the food was ready.
“What the hell does he want from me?” Isaiah wondered. “Why can’t he at least tell me I did well?”
When he came in, there on his plate was a huge steak with French fries, peas, and onions. Surprised, he looked at Walter.
“Well,” the man said, “I just thought that someone who had used so much energy today needed more than hot dogs or hamburgers. But,” he added, “don’t get used t’ this because tomorrow we’ll be back t’ our usual menu.”
Isaiah thanked him and dug in. When he finished he thanked the man again and then said, “I’m just wondering when you bought the steaks. Did you have them here all the time?”
Walter smiled one of his rare grins and said, “Nope. I bought ‘em on the way home. I figured I could catch up t’ that bus as easy as ya caught up t’ the other runners.”
When he had finished the dishes, Isaiah went outside, over to the edge of the woods. It was dark by now, being late November, but Kieran was there waiting for him.
“How did it go?” he asked.
“Pretty good,” Isaiah answered.
“How good?”
“Well, I won five races.”
“Out of how many?”
“Five.”
Kieran grabbed him and hugged him until he thought he couldn’t breathe. Then Kieran let go and asked, “Have ya ever tried running long distances?”
“No,” answered Isaiah. “You’re probably thinking of cross country and I’ve never done that. I don’t know that anyone at the school has.”
“Okay, tomorrow you and I are goin’ for a little run.”
Kieran hugged him and gave him a long, sloppy kiss before letting him return to the cabin and his bed.