Jack Beale 00 - Killer Run

silent as a shadow, Alfred followed Malcom around the shop. To Malcom’s surprise, whenever Malcom stopped, Alfred would continue his story. “After my brother’s death, my mother was never the same. She never really got over my brother’s death. I ended up having to care for her. My father abandoned us and went back to sea. I heard he was washed overboard somewhere between here and England. After my mother died, I ended up being taken in by the couple who owned this place.”
    “You don’t have to tell me all this,” Malcom interjected. He hoped that if the story was cut short, Alfred would leave him alone.
    “But you asked.”
    Before Malcom could reply, Alfred continued, “They never had any kids, and they kind of adopted me. It gave me an escape because they had so much cool stuff and everything had a story. I learned a lot. I could pretend to be anyone I wanted. It was how I dealt with things. As they got on in years, they promised me that I could have the place when they were gone. And that’s how I ended up here.”
    Malcom didn’t intend to encourage Alfred to keep talking, but without thinking, he asked, “What happened to your brother?” As soon as these words came out, he wished he could take them back.
    Alfred stared at him for a long moment. Then he looked away and in a voice that was barely audible said, “He broke his neck.”
    An uncomfortable silence filled the store before Alfred abruptly turned back toward Malcom. He said, “Tell me more about your B&B.”
    This surprised Malcom, but as he shared more of the story, he relaxed. He was starting to feel more at ease when Alfred suddenly interjected, “Would you like that lantern?”
    This abrupt change of topic caught Malcom by surprise, and before he knew it, he was the proud new owner of an eighteenth-century ship’s lantern. It wasn’t until Alfred went in search of a box that Malcom realized how late the day had become.
    When Alfred returned, Malcom said, “Maybe you can help me with one more thing.”
    “What’s that?” said Alfred. Malcom thought he detected a slight change in the tone of his voice, a wariness perhaps.
    “I was hoping to go for a run before heading home. I’m planning on running a race later this fall that’s down in this area, and I thought I might be able to check it out.”
    “What race?”
    “The Rockdog Run. It’s a trail marathon this November.”
    As soon as Malcom mentioned the Rockdog, Alfred seemed to perk up. “I’ve run it before. It’s not far from here. I could take you over.”
    “You don’t have to do that.”
    “It won’t be a problem. I need a run, I’ll go with you. It’s easy to get lost.”
    “You run?” Malcom blurted out. This revelation shouldn’t have surprised him, but it did. At the same time, it explained his impression that Alfred was more fit than he appeared. He quickly added, “Sure. That would be great.”

CHAPTER 16
    MALCOM FOLLOWED ALFRED’S OLD pickup truck and was surprised when he parked outside a school. There was no sign of the park.
    “This is where the race begins. The park is out that way,” he said, pointing out behind the school. “The race starts and finishes here. It’s two twelve-plus mile loops. How far do you want to go?”
    This was way more than Malcom had expected. “I hadn’t thought a whole lot about that, maybe eight or nine.”
    Alfred looked up at the sky. “We’ll have enough light for a full loop if you are up to twelve or so.”
    “Sure, I can do that. Not too fast I hope.”
    “No. Maybe a ten-minute pace.”
    “Perfect.”
    Together they walked toward the back of the school where the afternoon sports practices were in full swing. One of the coaches waved a hello in their direction and Alfred waved back. Malcom couldn’t help but notice how awkward Alfred’s return greeting seemed.
    The pace was easy as they left the school property and headed down what Malcom assumed was a fire road. Without warning, Alfred took a sharp left-hand turn onto a single-track trail. The trail was all rocks and roots, many hidden by the underbrush that encroached on the trail and went relentlessly up. Once at the top, it began a series of descents and rises, punctuated with short, sharp switchbacks, not unlike a roller coaster. He didn’t ease the pace as they charged up and down the trail. At one point, as they ran along a ridge above a ravine, Malcom commented on how a trip and fall off the trail could be a serious