If I Had Wings

By Michael Markus

His Dream. His Chance. Their Race.

Sixteen-year-old Alex Coughlin dreams of running for his high school's cross-country team, a dream that's a bit out of reach for this gifted runner as Alex has been blind since the age of two. Determined to run, he practices with his father, Probation Officer Geoff Coughlin. Geoff, with additional girth and age working against him, finds he no longer can keep up with his son. He must find a running partner at the school who's fast enough to help Alex make the cross-country team. This help comes from the unlikeliest of sources. Brad Coleman, a schoolmate of Alex's, spends most of his time running from the law. Caught in a pathetic daytime robbery attempt, Brad faces incarceration for repeat offenses. To keep Brad out of jail and in school, Geoff makes a deal and pairs the two boys, opposite in many ways. Despite a rocky start over their many differences, an unlikely friendship forms.   

Now an award winning film starring Richard Harmon, Jaren Brandt Bartlett, Jill Hennessy, Craig Bierko and Lorne Cardinal.            

• Language: English
• Publisher: If We Had Wings Publishing
• Release date: Feb 6, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386044895

Book preview

Cover image courtesy of Really Real Films

Many thanks to the Harmon Family: Allan, Cynde, Richard and Jessica,

to Tim Stubinski

and Kim Arnott

for your dedication and contributions that made my dream of seeing this little story made into a wonderful film come true.

Chapter 1

The Fall of 1995

It was a noticeably different boy’s bedroom; very spare, no television, no posters on the wall, the curtains drawn against the dawning light. Alex Coughlin, sixteen, dark brown hair and slight, stood in the centre of the room, dressed in his running shorts, pulling down a T-shirt over his head.

Without looking down, Alex put his foot on his bed, and tied the laces of his new Nikes. His dog, Sasha, a Golden Retriever, entered the room, cocked her head in puzzlement and licked her master’s hand. 

Hi, girl. Is Dad awake?

Alex reached over to the night table by his bed and, after one futile attempt, grasped his watch.  Prying open the glass face, Alex traced his fingers over the watch hands- six-thirty, six thirty A and M.  His father would still be soundly asleep, visions of Dunkin’ Donuts in his head.

He whistled softly to his dog.Come on Sasha, time to wake the bear.

***

The street lights still glowed on Egan street. The small shops, windows dark, their doors locked, awaited the start of the day. On the corner of Egan and Shear a wiry muscled boy with black-shoulder-length hair, dressed in tattered jeans and a tight white shirt, shook his legs, limbering up the big muscles in his thighs, getting the blood to flow.

Brad Coleman, starting to get a familiar bad feeling, ran a slightly trembling hand, lit cigarette resting between yellowed fingers, through his hair.

A block down from Brad on the other side of the street, an elderly Store owner, battered felt hat on his head, a small leather briefcase under his arm, approached the entrance to his convenience store.  He shifted the briefcase between elbow and body as he juggled a large ring of keys in his hands.

Brad, his start explosive, began to run, throwing his cigarette down as he picked up speed. He hit the curb in full stride, charging across the street toward the convenience store.

The Store owner turned in surprise as Brad’s quick hands snatched the briefcase away.

Hey, What are you-

***

Alex ran smoothly along the gravel park path, his stride even and sure, his breathing controlled.  Alex’s father, Geoff, was not faring so well. Cruel nature, not satisfied at making him balding and paunchy at thirty-eight, had also conspired to rob him of his wind. Geoff could only imagine the dreadful, pre-heart attack crimson, his tortured sweat-covered face had taken on. 

Geoff looked over at his son, face set, hand tightly grasping Dad’s elbow, beside him. That sight was enough for Geoff to push aside thoughts of quitting (keeling over on to the grass and begging for ‘911' actually) and to keep trudging on gamely. For Alex. Dignity be damned.

Then Alex, bored with the geriatric pace, began to run faster, pulling ahead of Geoff. 

Easy, Bubba, easy, Geoff gasped. Slow down.

I want to go faster.

We’re running off the path here.

Geoff heaved over to his left, pulling them back on to the path.

What’s up ahead.

A heart attack or stroke, came immediately to mind but Geoff said, instead,We’re on a slight decline (Thank God).  The trees are real close so-

Geoff coughed and wiped sweat from his forehead with his free hand. He winced and clutched his side. He had to stop soon. 

I want to go faster. Alex’s lips set in determination. I have to run on the grass. The boy tried to veer off the path.

I have to stop. Wind completely gone, Geoff dug his heels in the ground and reached for Alex’s wrist. He fell to the ground as Alex twisted free.

With nothing to hold him back, the new found freedom exhilarating, almost intoxicating, Alex started to sprint away from the path, ignoring his father’s pleas, toward a clump of trees.

Son!  Alex wait!

Geoff struggled to his feet and began to run after Alex. Drawing up suddenly, Geoff clutched his right leg. Limping, hamstring blown, he continued his pursuit.

***

As he looked back at the rapidly increasing distance between him and the pursuing Store owner, Brad allowed himself to smile.

Stop you little jerk

Brian waved nonchalantly back to the old man and turned the corner. He stopped smiling.

Billy and Vince Tessier, in their big back boots and leather jackets, stood by Billy’s parked ‘85 Mustang.  A traffic cop, calmly writing them a parking ticket, looked up as Brad rounded the corner.  Vince shrugged at Brad. 

Brad cursed to himself and skidded to a stop. He turned and started to run back the way he came.

The Store owner’s shout of, Stop that punk! filtered in from the distance.

***

Arms free at last, the breeze blowing flush on his face, Alex ran full speed down the grassy slope.  With the uncanny sense of direction he sometimes exhibited or through pure luck, he narrowly, with a last second shift of direction, dodged the trunk of a large tree.

Geoff ran painfully, grasping his injured leg, to the top of the hill. 

Damn it Alex!  Watch out! 

The sound of his father’s voice caused Alex to hesitate. What was he thinking?  He couldn’t do this.

With a scream of rage and surprise, Alex crashed into a metal trash can, legs flipping into the air as he sprawled to the earth, his head striking the ground. Then nothing.

***

Not yet reaching his cruising speed, Brad had only travelled a few feet from where he had spun around before crashing directly into the chest of another very burly cop as that officer exited the doughnut shop, crushing the big cop’s bag of sugary goodies and spilling the coffee. Recovering quickly, Brad scrambled to his feet and almost struggled free.

The policeman established a firm grip on the leather case. Brad would not let go. The sane little voice in his voice he rarely listened to begged him to let go. But he would not. Could not.

The mismatched pair twisted in a frenetic dance for a few seconds until the cop flung Brad to the ground. He dropped on top