Legacy I had a few minutes to size up my competition before the district championship race began. My team was seeded fourth out of eight, but our coach had told us we could take third, easy. I love my coach. He’s such an optimist. He was probably right, too. My team probably could take third, or even second. I think it might be going too far to say we could place first, because Jordan-Hall Academy is ranked second overall in state, and they had won district five years straight. Third place, however, didn’t seem too lofty a goal. Especially since number two South Valley had just lost their best runner. Amanda had called me last night, during the middle of my team’s pre-district dinner at my house. I wasn’t the team captain or the fastest runner or anything cool like that, but I had a pool and a huge deck in back, so my house was usually the place selected for events like this. I managed to break away from the festivities and talk to her for a little while. I had known Amanda was nervous about this race for a long time. She was a senior this year, and I knew she wanted the win more than anything. For the past three years, she had placed second every single time. For a while, it had looked like she would be district champion this year, until Jordan-Hall busted out their newest asset: sophomore transfer student Eva Wells. Eva wasn’t just good –she was very good. Better than Amanda. I had assured Amanda that although Eva had the talent, she had the heart, and that she would come out on top. After talking to Amanda, I rejoined my team out on the deck. It’s not smart to leave the Cordove High cross country team alone for very long. Halle had started up on her dumb jokes again and Ian was soaking wet (Steve had pushed him into the pool), but other than that, everything was okay. I started thinking about Amanda. I didn’t have a lot to be nervous about –I was just a mediocre runner on a mediocre team, but Amanda… She wanted it so bad. I was almost afraid to what would happen to her if she didn’t beat Eva. I first met Amanda last year at the Davidson Park Invitational. I remember it for two reasons –it was the day I met Amanda, and it was the worst race of my life. Davidson Park isn’t an easy course. In fact, my team unanimously voted it “Hardest Course” for the seventh year in a row the other day. Anyway, I got lost, I fell down, sprained my ankle, and finished third from the end. Needless to say, I was not a happy camper. The officials took pity on me and let me hand out the awards. That was when I met Amanda. She had won it, and when I handed her the ribbon and medal for first place, she smiled and said, “Good job today.”. I was totally taken aback. South Valley and Cordove weren’t exactly known for being friendly toward each other. Quite the opposite, in fact. Why someone from a rival school had decided to be nice to me was completely beyond my comprehension. Several more meets came and went. Amanda and I gradually became friends. When this season rolled around, we were inseparable. We confided in each other, cheered each other on at races, and just did all the things that friends do. It didn’t matter that our schools were rivals. Amanda was my friend, and that was all that mattered. “On your marks…” It was time to start the race. “Good luck,” I whispered to the rest of my teammates. I glanced over at South Valley. They looked nervous, afraid, and sad. Who could blame them? “Get set…” The time was now. I had to do well today. For me. For my team. For Amanda. BANG! At the sound of the shot, the sea of runners moved forward. Eva Wells made her way to the front fairly quickly. Several more of the district’s top runners, most of them from Jordan-Hall, were right behind her. Eva liked to lead from the very beginning of a race. Amanda would have held back a little bit, then made her move after about a mile or two. It didn’t take me too long to settle into my pace, a little over a seven-minute mile. Eva Wells was out of my sight within a few minutes. I knew I wouldn’t see her again until after the race, as I had with Amanda so many times. Not this time. Thoughts of Amanda haunted my mind as I ran. I wished she could have been here today. Now she would never get to fulfill her dream of being district champion. She had wanted it so bad, I was sure she could have done it. I could feel a fresh set of tears forming in my eyes. No matter how hard I tried, I knew they would never run dry. I got the call about an hour after I had talked to Amanda. The party was almost over, and all but three people on my team had left already. Trauma does funny things to you –I can remember every word the police officer said to me, but it seemed so distant and surreal, like a dream. Shortly after Amanda called me, she headed to her team’s pre-district party. She was stopped at a red light at a busy intersection, then was rear-ended by an intoxicated 15 year old who didn’t even have a license. Her car was pushed out into the road, and oncoming traffic didn’t have any time to stop. By the time authorities arrived, it was too late. Besides Amanda, three other people died in the accident, including a five month old baby. Amanda was pronounced dead at the scene, as were the baby and her mother. A man driving another vehicle was taken to the hospital, but died on the way. The kid driving the car who instigated the entire thing didn’t have so much as a scratch on him. When I learned that Amanda had been killed, I felt many emotions. I was enraged at the boy who was driving the car that rear-ended her. I was angry that Amanda would never be able to win that district title she wanted so bad and deserved so much. I was sorry for the friends and family of those that had been killed in the accident, but no emotion was as strong as the devastation I felt over what happened to my friend. Amanda had such a promising life ahead of her… why did it have to be snatched away so swiftly? I could feel the tears streaming down my face. I didn’t bother to hide them. Everyone knew Amanda and I were friends, and a friend was allowed to grieve over another friend’s death. The pain was still fresh, and to come here, and run this race that Amanda wanted to run so badly, was almost too much. What’s another race? I’m sure Amanda would have gladly opted to be number two if she knew she was going to die. Before I knew it, I had crossed the finish line, and one of the officials handed me a Popsicle stick with my finishing number on it. Twelve. One and two. The place Amanda wanted and the place she had gotten the last three years. Would the memories never stop? When I got out of the chute, I fell onto the grass and broke down crying. I could feel my muscles cramping up, but I didn’t care. I had finished as Cordove’s number two girl, the best I had ever done. Usually I was three or four. I had just run the race of my life, and Amanda wasn’t there to see it. Would she have run the race of her life, too? I guess we’ll never know. I felt a hand on my arm, and I looked up. It was Eva Wells, of all people. I managed to get a glimpse of the number on her Popsicle stick: One. Go figure. “I’m sorry,” Eva whispered. It was then that I noticed that she was crying, too. Before I had a chance to reply, though, Eva had walked away. Eva was the best runner in the district, but I’m sure she must have felt guilty about her win. She had known how much Amanda wanted the title, and to run away with it like she did, with no competition… Her win had almost been default. As luck would have it, Cordove placed second behind the indomitable Jordan-Hall and qualified for state. South Valley was third. My team was going to state, and neither Amanda nor her team was. Would Cordove had made it if Amanda hadn’t died? Probably not. Our district had lost more than a runner. We had lost a legend. I had known Amanda only a little more than a year, but that was long enough for her to change my life forever. Amanda had been such a promising person, both as a runner and as a friend. Kind of like the splash of color that brightens up your day. Her time here might have been short, but I know she touched more people than just me. I made up my mind right then and there to live my life to the absolute fullest it could be. It’s kind of funny, you know, how you never realize what you’ve got until it’s gone. I wonder if Amanda was thinking the same thing.
Copyright © 2001 Adhara Von Nuremberg |