Run for Your Life

By Haley Smith

_S

top thief! Stop that boy!” Ritchie burst out of the mall and down the concrete steps. Most people found it hard to weave in and out of the crowds of New York City, but Richie was a pro. In and out of alleyways he went, never once looking back. By now the lady’s cries were fading and he could barely breathe. Yep, he had done it again. Nobody can catch the fastest 15 year old alive, Richie Blake.

Hey, that’s weird, he thought. Why do I feel like something’s missing? The purse was still in his hand. His hand strayed down to his shoe and he immediately knew what the problem was.

The photo, he had lost the photo, of all things.

Richie turned on his heel and traced his steps back to the mall. Whenever a car passed he ducked behind the nearest bush. It’s like the saying ‘The criminal always returns to the seen of the crime.’

It’s got to be here somewhere, he thought. Where is it? He dug his hand in to the gravel and finally found it. He looked down smiling at the young woman staring back at him. She looked like she was having the time of her life running down the track in her blue sweat suit. Number 27. All Richie wanted was to be just like her.

Ritchie’s mom had never been able to find a job and always knew that she wasn’t giving her son the life he deserved. She wanted better for Ritchie and would do anything to give it to him. Three days after Ritchie’s fifth birthday she picked him up early from school and told him they were going on vacation. “In the middle of school?” he had asked.

“Yep.”

After a couple of hours they arrived at Ritchie’s Aunt Rubella’s house in Providence, Road Island. After he had gotten settled in the house Ritchie’s mom kissed him on the forehead and said she would be right back. And that was the last he had seen of her.

After some months his aunt had ended up sending him to an orphanage in Providence. He stayed there for a couple of years and was then moved to New York City. He had been known to make trouble and after the final incident of throwing Mrs. Laggard’s (the owner of the orphanage) hair dryer into a bathtub full of water he was finally sent away. He had ended up short-circuiting the whole orphanage and a couple of buildings around it. After that they just threw him out. Not publicly of course, in secret so no one would know. They told the older kids that he had been adopted, and the younger ones had been too little to know he was gone. He had lived a hard life and the photo of his mother was the only thing he had to remember her, being loved, and the life he once had.

At last Richie got home. Or what he thought to be home. To any other passer by it would just look like some run down shack at the end of a deserted alleyway, but not to Richie.

“Hey guys I’m back. You would never guess the kind of loot I snatched. I can still hear that pathetic excuse for a women’s voice. ‘Stop thief, stop!’” His face curled to a sneer but was wiped off by the look his friend gave him. The last part was meant to be a joke but not all his friends thought it was funny.

“Richie, knock it off.”

“Man I was just kidding.”

“Whatever.”

Richie let himself in and was welcomed home to the sight of his friends Joe, Andrew, and Sara playing poker on the floor.

“Booya!” said Andrew, scooping all of the chips on the floor into his growing pile. “I win!”

Normally Richie would have been glad to come home seeing his friends so happy but today he had thought of something he had never thought of before. Everything in their alleyway was stolen, down to the playing cards that they were using. This was the first time he ever thought if this was really the best he could be. He was then pulled from his thoughts and brought to reality.

“Richie, are you just gonna’ stand there or are you gonna’ close the door?” said Andrew.

“Sorry.” Richie sat down and watched his friends play. He wanted to join in the fun, but his mind kept pulling him away. He had been thinking all day and was trying to figure some things out.

“Richie, what are you thinking about?” said Sara, scratching her dirty blond hair. “You’ve been out of it all day.”

“Nothing, Sara. I was just thinking if it really has to be this way, that’s all.”

“Man, your mom left you, you’ve got to get used to it.” said Joe.

“No she didn’t!” Richie shouted and walked over to his side of the shack. As he flopped down on an old rocking chair he asked, “Do you guys have anything to eat that we could have for dinner?”

“Yeah,” replied Andrew. “You can have some Power Bars and Pirates Booty.”

Not much of a dinner, but the only choice. He pulled out the box underneath the shelf in the corner of the room. It was getting dark out and his friends were putting away their game and taking out their pajamas. He stuffed a peppermint chocolate power bar and a handful of cheese puffs into his mouth and put back the box. “I get the bathroom first!” he yelled, running for the tiny door at the back of the room. He and his friends had to take turns brushing their teeth and washing their faces because the bathroom was so small. He rushed inside and pulled out his yellow toothbrush. “Where’s the toothpaste?” He yelled back over his shoulder.

“Right were it always is!” Sara shouted back. Richie reached under the sink and took out the white tube underneath. He squirted on a line of paste and quickly scrubbed his teeth. “All done.” He yelled back to his friends and pulled on his pajamas. He grabbed some newspapers and put them on top of him underneath his sleeping bag. Just as he was about to nod off something caught his eye. On the front page there was a picture of a boy who could have been only a couple of years older than Richie holding a trophy. He read the caption underneath.

On Saturday May 30^th come to the annual Young Adult Race of the Fittest. It will be held at Central Park. The race begins at 12:30. Participants must be between the ages of 14 and 18. You can pick up forms at the NYC Parks & Recreation Center across from the park. The Parks & Rec. must receive all information by this Thursday. This is last years champion Bobby Ralph.

Hey, thought Richie, maybe I should go and see if I inherited any of my mom’s talent. But May 30^th was in a week. If he was going to enter he needed to practice in the few days he had. Tomorrow he would pick up a form at the Parks and Rec. Center.

“Guys, do you think I should go to the Young Adult Race next Saturday?” he asked.

“No way, Ritchie.” said Joe.

“That’s stupid, why would you want to do that?” Andrew laughed.

Richie fell asleep thinking of himself winning the race and that maybe, wherever she was, his mom might see him in the news and come back for him. Just maybe…

“Ritchie, wake up!” said Sara turning all the lights on. “Come on you’ve been sleeping forever!” Ritchie groggily rubbed his eyes and sat up. Today was the day of the big race at Central Park. He wasn’t sure if he should even show up, but then he remembered Number 27, that beautiful smile, the love in his heart, and knew he was really doing it for her.