“Y’all are the fanciest newbies I ever met,” Coach said. He moved his silverware and chopsticks off his napkin, then put the napkin in his lap.
“Are you ready now?” the waitress asked Lu. Again.
“Yeah, you ready?” Patty repeated, way harder than the super soft-spoken waitress.
“There’s just so many options, but I think I’m just going to have shrimp fried rice,” Lu said.
“Shrimp fried rice?” from Coach.
“After all that, you order shrimp fried rice?” from Patty.
“Good choice,” from Sunny, nice-ing it up as usual.
The waitress disappeared with our menus. That’s when Coach started his boring speech about how proud he was to have us on the team, and how great the season was going to be. He said we all showed promise. Well, that was something I had never heard before. That I was showing promise. Then he started dishing dirt about some of other teammates. Not really dirt. Just funny stuff they’d never tell us. Like how Krystal Speed used to be Krystal “No Speed.” He said she used to run like her feet were made of cement. Now she’s better. He also said Mikey has always been kinda tough. Comes from a military family. Coach said his father makes him salute and everything. Aaron is the oldest of a whole bunch of brothers and sisters. So he’s always annoyed at everybody on the track team but can’t help but take care of everyone, which is why he’s the captain. Right when he was telling us about how Curron Outlaw was the king of the false start last year, our waitress returned to the table with our food. Yes! It was go time. And I was so ready. I had even made up in my mind that no matter how good the food was, I would save some for Ma. I mean, it wasn’t every day we ate duck. Matter fact, we never ate duck. So, yeah. I was definitely going to save her some.
We all put our napkins in our laps like Coach did. And as the lady set the plates in front of us, piled up with Chinese goodness, Coach quickly gathered all our forks and knives. He even snatched our chopsticks.
“Okay, newbies. Here’s the deal,” he said, clenching the utensils. “In order for you to get your silverware back so that you can enjoy this amazing food, you have to tell everybody one thing about yourself that most people don’t know. Something good.”
“Wait. What?” Patty said, looking longingly at her sesame chicken.
I stared at my duck, the smell of it doing all kinds of cartwheels and backflips in my nostrils. Oh, man.
“It’s tradition,” Coach explained. “So, who’s first?”
“Me!” Lu offered, staring at his fried rice like it wasn’t . . . fried rice. “I’m starving, so I’ll go first.”
Coach shifted one fork, one spoon, one knife, and one set of chopsticks in his right hand. The rest were in his left. He held Lu’s utensils up and smiled. “Let’s hear it.”
Lu looked off, as if his secret was on the other side of the restaurant. Or in the big fish tank.
“Well,” he started, giving us his attention again. “I’m albino.”
“Duh!” Patty groaned, slapping her hand on her forehead. “He said a secret, fool!”
I wanted to chime in and say that if he had told me that a few days earlier, it actually would’ve been a secret to me. But then I would’ve had to admit that I thought he might’ve been an alien, and that wasn’t exactly the secret I was wanting to share.
“Yeah, I already knew that,” Sunny said softly.
“So did I,” Coach said, putting the silverware in his right hand back in his left.
“Wait,” Lu said, clearly fearing that his meal would be held up. That fried rice must’ve been calling his name. “Okay, okay. For real this time.” He took a deep breath. “I always wanted a brother. But my mom can’t have no more kids. And the reason why I wish I had one is because then I could’ve seen what I would’ve looked like if I wasn’t . . . albino.”
Me, Patty, Sunny, and even Coach went dead quiet. Nobody said nothing. Like, whoa! Plus, I could relate to wanting a brother too. It would be nice to have somebody to hang with during the week. I had King on the weekends, but on the weekdays it was just me and Ma, so mainly just me, because she’s Ma, and Ma ain’t bro. Plus, I probably would’ve had less altercations because my brother could’ve talked me out of some of them. He probably would’ve talked me out of cutting my shoes up and stealing the silver bullets from the sports store too. So I was totally with Lu on this one.
Coach handed Lu his utensils and even slid the soy sauce over.
“Don’t wait for us, son,” Coach told him. “Dig in. You earned it.”
Lu went for it. As he shoveled rice into his trap, Sunny spoke up.
“So, I don’t have a mom,” Sunny said. “I mean, I do, but she’s gone. She passed away giving birth to me.”
Patty’s eyes instantly began to shine. I could feel mine wetting up too, but I didn’t want to cry. Not at our special newbie dinner. But I felt for Sunny. My mother isn’t always the happiest lady on earth, but that’s just because times have been tough. But I’d rather have tough times with her than no times at all. Sunny ain’t never even met his mom. Never even had her cooking, and all moms can cook (when they’re not too tired).
“That’s so sad,” Patty said, reaching across the table for Sunny’s hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Nah, it’s okay. It’s the reason I run. Well, I didn’t really have a choice. My father made me. See, he did everything right. Got good grades, went to college, became a big-time businessman, and found the perfect wife. They had the big house, and the nice cars, but my mother wasn’t into any of that stuff. At least this is what my father says. He says that even though he gave her everything, she wanted to accomplish her own goals. And the biggest one was, she wanted to win a marathon.”
“That’s it? She wanted to run a marathon?” Lu asked with a full mouth.
“No. She ran a lot of them. She wanted to win one,” Sunny clarified. “And she was planning to rev up her training after the pregnancy. But she died. So my father made me run. He felt like I owed it to her. I hated it at first, but I didn’t have a choice. But now because I’ve been running for so long, I don’t even think about it anymore and kinda feel like I can somehow connect to her this way.”
“So your daddy used to run you?” I asked.
“Pretty much.”
“But was it to punish you?” I darted my eyes from Sunny to Coach, who sat listening closely.
Sunny’s face started to pale. “I guess.”
“But ain’t that child ab—”
“Ghost,” Patty cut me off, still holding Sunny’s hand.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” I backed off. “I was just saying, you know there’s someone else at this table who might be guilty of doing the same thing. Running kids for punishment.” I gave Coach a dramatic glare and everybody laughed, lightening the mood.