I Will Go With My Feet

I Asked Susan if she knew of anyone who I could go running with to which she responded:

“Ah ME, yes! I really like running. There is something, something very spiritual in it. I would like to do that with you definitely. I used to run with my sisters and there was a group of six of us and we would run up there from plateau over. One day we found an elephant and then stopped going. Because they were looking for a reason to stop. But I wanted to find someone to go with. I didn’t have shoes. And even now I don’t have shoes. But I will find some or a place to borrow them from. And we will go. I am so thankful that you asked me to go with you.”

The way in which she said this was so touching and emotional. She doesn’t know that it is me that is so thankful to have her to run with and as a friend. I would be lost here without her. I can’t get the picture of my closet back home out of my head or the sense of guilt. A pile of slightly worn running shoes. The simplicity of the things we take for granite.

After work we meet and run up the steps of plateau and through the residential area where the two of us running next to each other black and white get many questioning stares. On our first run Susan asked me “do I have something funny on me? “ “No, why?” “Because people are staring.” “They are not staring at you, they are looking at me. But it’s okay I am getting used to it.” “Ahie I don’t like it. Why they have to do that. These people.”

We run by her house, meeting her sisters who are preparing dinner on a fire in the yard. And up onto the highway. We run. Breath growing heavy. Racing against the sun. Feet beating the pavement. Gravel crunching. Leaping over piles of glass. The road stretches ahead and we keep our eyes straight searching for elephants in the bush. The day slipping beneath the horizon, glowing brilliant orange lighting up the grass with gold and then exhaling into deep purple. Wild dogs trace our footprints with their barks. I ask if they will hurt us to which she responds, “I will pray that they will not.” Not quite the settling answer I was looking for but faith is something that I am slowing building. Darkness settles and we part ways, heading home. Twice as alert now I jump at every rustle. Passing the bushes and onto the pavement of the rank my defenses change. By the guys in the street. Drained beer and empties. Words chasing me. I run faster.