Dave Casler
PO Box 98
Ridgway, Colorado 81432
Young Adult Novels by Dave Casler...
I've been told by publisher after publisher that there's no market for Young Adult novels. I think they're wrong! So I'm putting my novels on-line for you. Forget the publisher! Read to your heart's content--it's free! And, I'd like to hear from you, too! Contact Page.
You're reading About Phillip. Be sure to check out About Dan here.
Phillip is a computer nerd who suddenly discovers a liking for track. Everything would be fine except for his father.
About Series Home
About the About Series
Index to All Chapters
Here are all the chapters, disguised as asterisks. Hover your mouse over an asterisk to see the title of the chapter. Click on the asterisk to go straight to that chapter.
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(About Phillip Home) (Last) (Next)
Running While Angry
Phillip stamped the ground. He paced in circles with the other 3200-meter runners, all working to get their breath back. Sweat flopped off his face as he stomped again. Some sweat dripped onto his glasses; he swept them off his face. He bent over, put his hands on his knees and yowled at the grass. He went back to stamping, his breath still coming in great heaves. He took a gulp from a paper cup handed to him by one of the team student assistants. He gulped again and threw the cup to the ground. He swore.
Melanie and Grant ran toward him through the swirl of athletes, parents and friends. Now that the 3200-meter race was finished, the meet was over and confusion reigned. Grant was the first to reach him.
"Phillip, I’m gonna tell the bishop!" said Grant reproachfully.
"Go ahead," said Phillip; he swore again. He stamped the ground as though the grass under his feet wasn’t sufficiently dead yet.
"Well, you better not have a tantrum in front of Melanie," said Grant just as Melanie came up.
Phillip stamped more, shook his fists in the air, and went back to stamping.
"Better stand back, Melanie," cautioned Grant. "He’s having a tanty."
"Why?"
Phillip stopped trying to move the earth out of its orbit long enough to point forcefully at the scoreboard. "Look!" he commanded. "That’s why! Stinking lousy fifth! I blew it!" He treated himself to one more stamp and leaned forward, his hands on his knees. His breath was coming more easily.
"Phillip! What happened?" It was Luke. Matthew was close behind, but he held back when he saw both Grant and Melanie. Luke put a hand on Phillip’s shoulder.
Phillip stood and looked straight at Luke, or more accurately, up at Luke. He moved back far enough that Luke had to drop his hand.
Phillip was vehement. "I just blew it, that’s all. I totally forgot pacing and lost track of timing and everything. I ran angrily and didn’t follow my plan." He felt the scoreboard leering at him; he was ready to cry from sheer frustration.
"Why?" asked a puzzled Luke.
"Because someone here pushed me down and bruised my side and made me so mad I could hardly see straight," yelled Phillip. Luke looked horrified. "No, it’s not you, it’s that jerk behind you!" exclaimed Phillip. Luke turned to stared at Matthew.
Matthew stepped forward. He spoke scornfully. "Y’know, Phillip my boy, maybe you’d get some support from God if you believed in Jesus."
"Matthew!" shouted Luke. The rebuke was unmistakable.
Phillip ignored Luke and faced Matthew. "If your version of Jesus wants you to nag and persecute and hit, then I want no part of him, do you understand?" He turned on his heel and stalked away. Grant and Melanie ran to catch up with him.
Luke called after him. "Phillip! Wait!"
Phillip kept walking; he was boiling. After twenty yards he calmed down enough to mutter to Melanie. "Are they following us?"
"No," huffed Melanie as she and Grant struggled to keep up. The crowd was thinning and the athletes were boarding their busses. "In fact, Matthew’s standing there with his mouth open … looking like an ape … you know, the apes he didn’t evolve from?"
"And Luke?"
Grant answered. "I think he’s gonna kill Matthew."
"Cool!" exclaimed Phillip. He smiled and kept walking.