Naturally the other kids took up that chant. Some kids would have cried at being picked on like that. What I did was to push that boy so hard that he fell right on his butt. Then I took off. My gym teacher tried to catch me, but even though his legs were three times as long as mine, I left him in the dust. When I reached the fence, I crawled over it like a squirrel, hit the ground on the other side, and just kept running.

By the time I got home, I was so sweaty that my hair was no longer matted but hung down around my eyes in wet curls. I wasn’t angry anymore either. I had run all the anger out of me. But I was worried about what my parents would say.

Mom was away that day doing some kind of special workshop. But my dad was there on the front steps waiting. The school had called him at his office. As soon as they told him what had happened, he knew where I was heading.

Dad didn’t say a word to me. He just opened his arms and I fell into them and started to cry. After I’d gotten through crying, he took me inside and had me drink a glass of water. Then he drove me back to school. He didn’t come in with me. I knew why that was without his having to tell me. I had to take responsibility for what I’d done. All he said, before giving me one more big hug and a kiss on my sweaty cheek, was one sentence that I’ve never forgotten.

“Nittaunis, my daughter, just remember that no matter how fast you run, you can’t run away from your problems.” He must have gotten that from Grama Delia.

After the accident it was all too much for me to bear, losing my mom and dad like that. Lots of days I wished I had been killed too, that the rest of me was as numb and unfeeling as my hand. Then I started to run again. It took me a little bit to get my balance right. My body was stiff, and my left hand threw me off at first. It all came back, though, and I was as fast as I’d ever been. Maybe even faster, because my legs had gotten longer and my stride was just as swift. And running made me feel alive again. No matter how far or how fast I ran, I wasn’t running away from anything. I was running toward the memory of my parents’ loving arms, always there to catch me at the end. Running.

Running.