Darius & Twig

Twig was running and I was riding behind him. I imagined him thinking about me, wondering how close, wondering what I was thinking. I was looking at my watch, trying to figure out times. This was an easy run for him, and he moved swiftly past the park benches and the black women pushing small white children along the park’s edge. There was no wasted movement with Twig. His stride wasn’t that long, and his thin arms barely moved as we went block after block. The people watching him knew that he was in training. I thought they were connected to him for a brief moment. As I was connected with him.

For a minute I felt a sense of disappointment. I knew Twig would run and become someone who would be at least a footnote to the history of our school. Some people will make a mark, a footnote, and others will disappear without a trace. Mr. Ramey’s comments about my grades came to me again. He was talking about my chances of getting a scholarship, but we both knew it was also about my whole life. Maybe one day I’d disappear.