Stupid Fast - By Geoff Herbach Page 0,51
think comedy is funny). Coach Jones gave me the form to get started on two, but I needed to get Jerri’s signature to get the permit, which she wouldn’t give me, and then she’d have to have teach me to drive—which also wasn’t going to happen. It was at this point in July that I tried to implement number four.
CHAPTER 28: THE ROAD RUNNER RUNS UP CLIFFS
That day Jerri called me asshole out in the yard was the first day I ran up the Mound (the same one Dad ran up).
Let me describe it a little.
This Mound is a seriously huge-ass hill on the east side of town. It’s a county park, so anyone can go there. A really long time ago, college kids whacked down a huge tract of trees on it and made this huge M on its side out of big rocks. Then they painted the rocks bright white so the M can be seen from like a thousand miles away, if you’ve got the right view. Every few years, the engineering department from the college goes up there and paints it white again so it’s always really white.
I have no idea why they put an M on it. M obviously doesn’t stand for Bluffton. Maybe it just stands for Mound? I don’t know.
There’s a steep path that runs next to the big M so lovers of the letter M can climb up the hill. The path has got to be like a football field and a half long, maybe longer. It’s a hell of a place to run. I’m sure my dad would tell you the same thing if he could.
After Jerri called me asshole, I didn’t really know where I was going. All I knew was that I couldn’t stay in the house with her and Andrew around. I biked past the baseball fields and saw some honkies playing, but I couldn’t stop there because I was bawling and would look stupid. I biked past the schools, the track, the practice football field, and the tennis courts. Tennis player? Then I got on County Road D, saw the big M in front of me, and gunned it out into the countryside. I biked the several miles out there in no time flat. One pickup truck filled with poop-stinkers shouted “Rein Stone” as they passed. I didn’t wave or anything. Just kept pumping.
When I got to the Mound and the big M, I was completely out of breath. I lay down on a picnic table and sweated in the sun.
I thought about Jerri and Dad, and I got sick but couldn’t stop. Then I thought about Aleah.
Why is she so lucky? Yeah, her mom is gone, but Ronald takes care of everything. He’s great and she’s always happy—almost always happy. At least she knows why her mom left—too young when she got married and had to leave because she was so unhappy—and at least her mom didn’t totally abandon Aleah because she didn’t kill herself and she actually calls Aleah sometimes and sends her postcards. Ronald and Aleah talk about Aleah’s mom every day. Aleah told me. They talk and talk and talk. We never talked about Dad. Jerri never said anything except leave the past behind and re-engage. Aleah is so lucky to know why her mom left.
And why is Cody so lucky? His dad makes sure everybody’s safe. His mom works at the bank and probably buys groceries.
Even Gus is lucky. Sure, he has to do a paper route. Sure, he gets shipped to South America. But his mom would never call him an asshole.
She called me an asshole. She called me an asshole.
My legs started feeling twitchy.
Why are you so damn crap out of luck all the time? Jerri hates you. Your mom hates you. Your mom totally hates you.
I jumped off the table and ran toward the path next to the M. Within seconds, I exploded up it, running the rail stairs, accelerating up rocks and dirt. This is going to sound really dorky, but I felt like a mountain lion, and I was balanced like that. Trucks could’ve rolled at me and I would’ve dodged them, punched them on their sides and sent them tumbling away down the hill. I accelerated like crazy, even though I was going straight up. Up up up up! I probably looked like that Road Runner in that old cartoon. Up! Up!
At the top, I bent over to catch my breath. Sweat poured off my face