Tyson sprinted down the familiar Mohawk Park trail. His feet pounded the ground in perfect rhythm. Blood surged through his legs, and he smiled, admiring his body’s power.
“Damn gnats,” he mumbled, taking a deep breath and fanning the air in front of his face. Whispers spun around him as he inhaled. “Hello?” he said, pulling one of his ear buds out. “Anyone out there?” He jogged in place and studied the still woods around him. “Huh.” He shrugged and poked the ear bud back in his ear.
He prodded at the volume button on his phone, and continued his poor attempt at rapping as he jogged along the muddy trail. “When you come up from the bottom, duh duh duh duh duh duh chosen. Yeah.”
He bobbed and weaved, ducking shots from his invisible opponent and landing others. He reached the end of his route and threw his hands up in the air. And the new UFC champion is Tyson Andrews. The crowd goes wild. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted in hushed tones. “Ahhhhhh! Tyson we love you!” He continued his mini celebration as he shuffled to the parking lot.
He shook out his extremities and did a few light stretches before removing the headphones and slinging the cord over his shoulder. “And what was the time for today?” Velcro scratched and popped as he removed the iPhone armband from around his bicep. He opened his running app and scanned his stats. “Not good, Tyson. Not good. Has to be all the mud. And those gnats. I hate those fuckers. Lost a good two minutes on them alone.” He popped open his gas tank and fished around for his keys. Faint whispers swirled around him again, and he paused before opening the trunk.
“Hello?” He turned and looked around the empty parking lot. Dryness itched the back of his throat, and he stifled a cough. “Fucking gnats.”
He popped the trunk and sat on the lip of the bumper. He peeled off his mud-caked shoes and socks, tossed them into the opening, and grabbed an old towel. Dirt stuck to the back of his legs, and he roughly wiped it away. The tingling in the back of his throat persisted, and he snatched a water bottle from the pack before closing the trunk. The discomfort cooled as he slurped the liquid. He draped the towel over the driver’s seat and collapsed into the comfort of the leather.
Hello. The muffled purr drifted into the car.
“Fucking kids.” He shook his head. “Shouldn’t you be in school or something?” He yelled before shutting the door.
He started the car and his dashboard illuminated. “Shit, I’m late,” he mumbled, glancing at the clock hovering over his preset radio choices. “I’m never going to hear the end of this.” He angrily rammed his gearshift into drive, and sped onto the road. He was almost home when the tickling in his throat returned. He took another swig of water and coughs erupted from his lungs. Water spurted passed his lips and coated the steering wheel.
“Goddamnit!” The car swerved as he reached behind his back and yanked the towel free. He wiped at the dripping steering wheel as more hacking coughs forced their way up his throat. He clutched the towel against his mouth, and his torso clenched with wracking coughs.
“Oh, shit,” he groaned, wiping spittle from his chin. “Where the fuck did that come from?” He dropped the towel on his lap and cleared the last strings of mucous from his throat. Small, black flecks glistened up at him, begging for his attention. He pulled into his garage, and lifted the rough towel to his face. “That’s fucking gross.” He balled it up and tossed it on the floorboard before climbing out of the car.
“Babe,” he called as he shut the door behind him. “You’re not going to believe what I just coughed up.”
Hello. The hum of multiple voices floated through his ears.
He walked into the kitchen and paused, listening for the voices. “Monica?”
“I heard you. You can tell me all about it when we’re in the car. After you’ve showered and changed. I knew you shouldn’t have gone for that run. We’re probably going to lose our reservation.” She turned the corner and stopped as soon as she saw him. “Tyson, you look awful. Are you feeling okay?” She set her earrings down on the counter and grabbed a glass from next to the sink. She turned on the water and filled the glass halfway. “Wait a second to drink this. Let me go grab those allergy pills out of my purse.” She handed him the water before heading into the living room. “It’s probably pollen or ragweed, and you know how allergic you get.”
His pulse thundered behind his ears, and he let her voice fade into the background.