Work Text:
On your mark... get set... GO!
The race track begins at the two flower pots on the either side that marked the starting line. Then around the loop, over the bridge and onto the twisted gravel road. From there, there was a short cut though the woods that only he knew about. That was going to be his key to winning the race.
On GO he was off, racing around the loop. This part of the track was called figure eight. The road was smooth and well maintained, an easy start. The people on the sidelines cheering him on, or the cheering = "Slow down!" And "Put on a helmet!" But it was close enough. It only encouraged him to peddle faster.
Soon the track changed from large houses, fancy cars and freshly cut grass to roads patched up with tar. This was the long stretch, a straight road that lead to a bridge where the pavement would end and the gravel begins.
The sun was blazing with the long stretch and no trees for shade but the baseball cap on his head. His face was full of sweat and his hands sticky to the handle bars. His legs starting to ache, but he can't give up, not now. Not after all he did to enter this race.
The pot holes on the road becoming his main obstacle, the further down the road the more there are and the bigger they get. He hit a few, almost sending him face first over the handle bars.
The bridge was in sight, just a little further. The breeze from the water was nice, not enough to cool him down, but it was an encouraging gust of wind letting him know he's reached the halfway mark.
The bridge ended with a small drop where his tires met the gravel road. He was in his element now. He knew these roads like the back of his hand. He knew every corner, every hill, every pot hole. Almost like he's gone down this road a million times. He could navigate it with his eyes closed.
He passed a road, one most kids would have called the ending of their race. The finish line where they'd run inside and be flooded with questing about how their day was. Fresh food on the table, mom placing a plate full where he sits. Dad with a news paper on the other end of the table, reading the sports section. One open beer in front of him. All the windows open bringing in the fresh breeze of flowers and pine trees and mixing with the smell of pot roast and freshly baked bread.
But down that road there weren't two loving parents and food on the table, the only sign of that was on the TV screen. If the cable was working at all.
He peddled faster past that road till he made it to the short cut through the woods that would lead to his real finish line. Still none of the above was there, but there was something else that was.
The trail was filled with worn tire tracks through the mud, tree roots sticking out and low hanging branches he had to duck to avoid being slashed in the face. The trail wasn't maintained in the slightest, but that's probably because he's the only one of two who knows about the trail, and he's the creator of the trail. One he's been riding down since he could ride a bike without training wheels.
The trail was the fasted way to the finish line, and with the black and white checkers in sight and a tree root catching on his front tire. The bike stoped, but he didn't, flying over the handle bars and into the mud.
He didn't make his finish line.
"JJ?"
Because he didn't have to. His finish line moved to him.
He was lying on his back, face up, titling his head back slightly to send a toothy grin to the end of the his race. Even though there was no one else participating in this race, he'd say he won.
"Hey, " he says, the cap long gone and laying somewhere in the mud. His overgrown dirty, and not the just colour, blond hair was sticking in every direction. Sweat and mud soaking his clothes.
He legs were so tired he wasn't sure he could stand up, but when the hand was offered to him, he took it. He was hoisted to his feet, a little shaky but stable. There he was met with the freckles dotted across, it was close enough to checkers.
After a quick checkup for any any injuries, and a clear from his doctor, aka Dr. Best friend. He got to showing off the reason he was here.
Lying in the mud and covered in it, was an eight year olds greatest treasure.
It was in the yard now, proped up on its kickstand. Still covered in the mud from its journey over here, but the red paint made itself known through it.
"What'd ya think John B? Nice right?"
Compared to John B's bike that was pulled from a dumpster, this was like a sports car.
"How'd you even get this?" John B asked, his jaw still hadn't found its way back to closed yet.
He was quick to answer, maybe a little too quick, "My dad bought it for me." He wasn't about to tell his finish line the starting line of his race was from the front lawn of a kooks house where he had spotted the bike lying in the green grass.
JJ was quick with his lies and John B was eight years old, he wasn't going to question it.
After finishing the inspection on his new ride, he was invited inside to play. Not that he had to be invited in, JJ was welcome here anytime. Most of the time. He was never aloud to stay the night, well he doesn't know if we wasn't aloud, but he never asked.
The two boys made their way inside, the house was covered in its usual mess. Dishes in the sink, takeout containers on the countertops, papers laid out over the table. A map in the center of the table with Big John circling it, drawing lines and little red pins sticking up.
Big John didn't even look up when the front door slammed closed, something JJ's dad would have given him hell for. That'd why JJ liked it over here, there were not rules, no yelling, and his best friend was here (that was the best part if you ask JJ).
JJ looked to John B who was smiling at his dad and walked right over to him, climbingbup onto one of the kitchen chairs that was pulled away from the table. He stood on the chair to get a better view of what his dad was doing.
"Hey dad!"
Without looking up from his work, "Hey kid." He was lining his ruler up to draw another line, and from what he could tell it was from land to the middle of the ocean, he stuck a red pin in the middle of the water. "Hey JJ."
JJ was a little surprised, Big John hadn't even glance up from his work, "Hi." He said, stepping into the house, his muddy boots still on his feet.
"Let's go to my room." John B offered, getting down from the chair and leaving his dad to his work.
Big John was great and all, but when he was working, it's like that was the only thing that mattered. But when he wasn't working he was great, he was take them fishing or camping, or just on a drive in the Twinky.
JJ liked Big John, he wished he didn't have to call him Big John or John B's dad, he wished Big John would just adopt him so he could call him dad. He was more of a father figure to him then his own dad.
JJ followed John B to his room. He took off his boots and hoped right up on the bed, John B following right after him, but bringing the new toy his dad got him. New being something pulled from the dump.
But still it was cool, a race boat that was broken and missing the remote control, but they were kids, they didn't care. Creating their own race boat noises with their mouths and holding the boat through the air as if it was going over waves.
"One day," John B started, "We'll have our own boat, and sail across the ocean. We can eat the fish we catch and sleep on beaches."
JJ smiled at the idea, watching as John B sends the boat over another wave.
"Just the two of us?"
"Just the two of us." John B confirms.
JJs smile grows, sending a warm feeling through him. But that all fades when the boat comes to the dock, tied up on John B's night stand. The sun is setting and Big John's calling John B for dinner.
JJ wants nothing more than to get on his knees and beg to stay, stay in the house filled with the smell of instant mashed potatoes, canned corn and ham. Instead he puts back on his muddy boats and heads for the door. John B waving at him on his way out.
"See you on Monday!"
The screen door closes behind him. The cold air creeping up his arms, leaving goosebumps in it's path. He wants to turn around, open back up the door to the warmth and sit at the table with them. He wants to be apart for their family. Not just some kid who comes over to play. But he's not.
He finds his cap lying on the path where it fell. Places it backwards on his head and kicks up the kickstand. Off the same way he came. This time turning down the road at a much slower speed then when he had peddled past it.
At the end of the road is a yellow house. A truck parked outside and the TV loud through the open windows. The window screens letting nothing in, not the smell of flowers or pine trees. Only leaking the smell of the open beer cans.
JJ puts his bike in the shed, next to an old boat motor he dad's never going to fix. If the kids around here sees a nice big on the lawn, it'll be gone within on 15 minutes. Unlike at the kooks place where it probably had been sitting in the yard for days, no one batting at eye at it.
He walks up to the door, making sure not to slam it, John B would have. The familiar smell of beer is stronger inside than it is out. There's no smell of pot roast or freshly bake bread. Instead there's a bad smell of whatever has been left in the fridge to rot.
"Hey dad." His voice is much quieter than when John B greeted his dad. JJ will just say he's being quite because his dad is passed out. He's just sleeping, he's definitely not black out drunk with a beer can in hand spilling on his shirt. At least the cable was still on.
On the TV that was turned up to an ear deafening volume where two men where yelling at each other. He wasn't sure what they were saying, it was all in Spanish. They shouted at each other again when the boat they where on goes over another wave, bracing themselves for the wave that washes over them.
They keep yelling but their yelling doesn't sound angry, no, they're only yelling to hear each other over the storm and the crash of the waves.
JJ stares at the TV, imagining the taller on is him and John B can be the slightly short one. JJ plans to one day out grow John B, he's been stealing beans out for the kooks gardens because he was told they make you grow taller. Who knows if that's true.
He thinks back to what John B said, just the two of them, sailing the world on a boat. He can almost taste the salty air in his tongue.
His world turns back to the living room when his had stirs on the couch. Before he can wake up JJ escapes to his room.
He sits on his bed, it's not as comfy as John B's, or as the sandy beaches they'll one day sleep on. But it's something to take his mind to the place where the boat sails over the calm waves.
As JJ dozes off he whispers to himself, "Just me and you John B. Just the two of us."