Addy's Race Read Online Free PDF

cochlear implants were more important than hearing aids.
    What I didn’t get was why Sierra wanted to be friends with them. If I had been her, the new deaf kid in a school full of hearing kids, and there was a girl with hearing aids, especially a nice, friendly girl, I’d want to talk to her. We would be friends because we had something important in common.
    Birds of a feather flock together. That was another of my grandmother’s sayings. I guess Sierra had never heard it.
    I was starting to get hot and a little tired, but I wanted to run at least to the bridge at the end of the path. Then I could turn back without having to see Stem. It would be bad enough watching them zip past me at Wednesday’s race. At least today I could get back to the school before them and pretend I was better, even if it meant sort of cheating by turning back early.
    The wind sounded strange. It seemed to be wailing, even though there was only a slight breeze. Then I realized it was a siren. I couldn’t tell if it was an ambulance, fire truck or police car. It never occurred to me the wailing could be a person.
    Then I saw some teenagers running toward me, and I realized Lucy and Miss Fielding weren’t behind me. I turned around and around, but all I saw were the teenagers passing me as if I were invisible. Where was Lucy? Where was Miss Fielding?
    I ran as fast as I could back up the path. That’s when I saw Lucy, flat on the ground surrounded by Miss Fielding, two strangers and a yapping, out-of-control dog. One of the strangers turned out to be a medical student on her afternoon run. The other was an old bald man whose crazy dog had run into Lucy, knocking her over and twisting her ankle. If I had a dog, I’d keep it on a leash. A short leash.
    Lucy was trying not to cry. The bald man was wagging his finger at the dog, yelling, “Bad, bad Custard!” If Lucy hadn’t looked so awful, I would have laughed. Custard. What kind of name was that?
    The medical student was looking at Lucy’s ankle. “It’s probably just a sprain, but to be sure you should take her to a clinic,” she said to Miss Fielding.
    I crouched next to Lucy. “Does it hurt?” I asked.
    She nodded.
    I squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I guess I was running too fast,” I said.
    She looked at Custard, who was jumping around so wildly I was surprised he hadn’t pulled the bald man over. “I should probably thank him.”
    “Don’t look too happy,” I said. “Your mother may think you fell on purpose.”
    She sniffled loudly and wiped her nose. “Oww,” she moaned. “It really hurts.”
    “That’s good,” I said. “You fooled me. Can you get up?”
    “I’m not kidding,” she said. “It really does hurt. Almost as much as running.”

    Lucy stayed home from school the next day. The medical student was right—she had a slight sprain. Lucy’s doctor said she shouldn’t stand on it for at least two days. By Sunday it wasn’t nearly as swollen, but it still hurt and she needed crutches. Joanne wanted her to buck up, run through the pain. That’s what Joanne would have done.
    “Did you know the week before I was to run in my first triathlon I tripped over your tricycle in the front hall and sprained my ankle?” she said as she hovered over us. We were in Lucy’s family room, watching ABC Kids.
    “Yes, you told me on the way home from the clinic, remember?” Lucy said.
    Joanne’s eyes were all sparkly. “Well, I didn’t tell Addy.” She looked awfully happy for someone who was about to tell a story about how she was almost crippled on the eve of her debut as a champion triathlete.
    “Mom, I’ve heard it a million times,” Lucy said. “I can tell Addy. Later. Right now we’re watching tv.”
    When she left, Lucy rolled her eyes and asked if I’d go to the garage and find the tricycle so she could trip over it and reinjure herself, at least until running club was over.
    “Do you want to run in the race?” she asked.
    I shrugged.
    “I think