Monday, 8/18/08 (a)

Even though it was only 7:15 am, the low valley fog was already starting to burn off. It looked to be another abnormally warm day in the North Carolina hills. In the Clover Valley H.S. parking lot, two kids chatted aimlessly while a third lingered just outside the conversation.

After about a 45 second pause in their talking, the taller of the two boys said ...

"He did say the 18th, right?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"And the e-mail said 7 am. I know that ..."

The conversation sputtered out again as both boys peered into the direction of the lot's entrance for another 45 seconds. The shorter boy said with a sigh,

"Well Jake, I think Coach Perloser is a no show."

Jake stretched his calves by leaning his 6'4" frame against one of the handicapped parking signs in the lot and responded,

"It's probably good he ain't here. Imagine he'd have us running suicides or some other nonsense and I only ran maybe 100 miles all summer. Well, I can drop you back off at your house and then I can go back to sleep until about noon."

Jake continued.

"Nicky-boy, I gotta say this is a great way to start the season. Just the two of us and no coach."

The mention of the number two called their attention to the third boy in the lot who was fidgeting nervously about 50 yards away. Jake yelled over.

"Hey. Are you here for cross-country?"

Jorge gave a quick nod. This time Nick hollered over.

"Well, we don't know where the coach is, so there's probably not much point in hanging around here. Someone will figure out something I suppose ..."

Jorge didn't really understand what the boy meant, but when they got in their car and left it was pretty clear that his first cross-country practice had not gone as he'd expected. His mom had dropped him off and headed off to work. There was little choice but to run the seven miles home.