The slow whine of the door creeping open was definitely one way of breaking my concentration. My sly younger sister wanted to ease in on the storm going on in my room. My brother and I were at it again, “Alan, it was just a rumor I had heard at the gym. We don’t even know if it’s true or not!” My brother was trying to justify a gun wound. He shot me with words I couldn’t handle and thought he could make it seem like nothing. He didn’t understand that every part of me needed an answer, any kind of truth. My world had stopped beating, but I could feel my ears throbbing. Before I knew it, I was sprinting to the one place I thought would give me answers.
Years of running and stretching out my endurance, had to pay off somehow. Buildings and worn down neighborhoods blurred passed me. I went numb from cutting through the wind. The only thing on my mind was breaking through the gym doors and hunting down Coach Johnson. That man single handedly motivates me to run laps around the earth.
“Alan, please I know what you’re going to say.” I had swung the door open and knocked down a trashcan, it had immediately called his attention over. With everything I had, I needed to see the face that I knew. The crooked nose that was all too familiar. “The scary part is that I have too many ideas as to what you’re going to say.” As my enraged concern escaped me Coach Johnson spilled out his regret with the look he was hiding. He was avoiding eye contact. “I wanted to wait to tell you. But I knew you’d figure it out eventually.” He went on about how he cares about me and always wants the best for me. I caught a glimpse of his usual ‘I see a part of myself in you’. As his voice dragged on, I filled in the blanks. He was setting me up for bad news.
I tuned him out and faded into the glorious distraction that was all the time I spent training. Looking back, I should’ve been able to guess something would go wrong, when I went from running through fields to running through abandoned buildings. In these past few years, I was so focused on practicing and getting better that I ignored how everything around me was getting worse. All those years ago, the outcome of the 2016 election was feared, but I was too young and hopeful to understand. As a child I only ever dreamed of fans screaming for me with our nation’s pride. These streets have grown to be filled with hate for the government, each other, and living in general. Our country has been dominated and worked its way to being torn apart for seven years.
“Alan, I’m sorry, but it looks like that might be it.” I was dragged back into this horrid reality. “There’s no way that we can give up so easily. There has to be something we could do. It can’t be over.” Denial rushed through me. “The president will be making an official statement, tonight. Lucky for us, we get to attend such a heartbreaking event. Athletes from a few other states have flown in to join on the devastation.” Living in Washington, D.C. provided me with easy access to our president’s constant backlash. “I guess I’ll see you tonight, then.” I left Coach Johnson’s office with no direction and no more room for optimism. The only thing left for me to look forward to was tonight’s statement on the United States not getting invited back to the Olympics.
* * *
A crowd of unsuspecting athletes gathered around the center of town. The rumors got to us before the news got to them; we were spared from the surprises. We were sent to meet in front of what used to be the Washington Monument. From everything it once stood for, it is now the largest President Trump statue in the country.
Security is added each time he comes out to speak. There is always an attempt to rid us of his control, it never fails. I have seen more people get tackled down for trying to assault the president than he would like.
The feedback from the microphones being set up brings the crowd to a tentative pause. Whispers die down and ears tune themselves to the wretched cracks in the air.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome The President of the United States: Mr. Donald Trump.” A man collected our attention in a matter of words.
“Yes, hello, I’m here.” He started with his usual self-absorbed entrance. “You are all probably wondering about our attendance status for the Olympics. But the real issue is that it took us so long to realize we shouldn’t be breathing contaminated foreign air. You should be grateful that the walls I’ve built for you have worked. The walls have kept us from being less great. So, you’re welcome.” I realized that his words were pointless. My parents always taught me what a true leader should be. Distracted by the idea of what a true leader is and how it’s very far from what we have I know it is irrefutable: he has ruined this country. Some president, he has no regard for how this affects us.
I know if the opportunity ever presented itself I’d be able to knock some sense into him and make a quick enough getaway, on foot. It would show him that we deserve a chance to compete.
Me being swallowed up by a sense of anger and aggression was interrupted by the wave of gasps. Everyone’s attention was drawn to a man in a hoodie getting escorted off stage. He beat me to it. That man expressed our anguish with a single action. This mystery man was putting up quite the fight. In the midst of being tied down and shoved away, his yelling over powered that of the audience.
“We are all angry! But there is always more we can do!” He kept proclaiming perseverance. That voice muffled by secret service and a nasally filter was too much like that of what a crooked nose can do. He coached me to endure, and today he showed me just that.