Joyce Houston was elated. As she stood at the podium, her tears held a great story. It is a story of iron will, grit, determination, and courage. Rather, fear, not courage. With the world at her feet, Joyce let the feeling sink in: she was the fastest woman in the world.
A few years back….
Joyce lived in the rural lands of Arkansas. She was the youngest of six. The family lived in abject poverty. A meal was a luxury. Her father was a drunkard, unable to keep a job, and her mother was a drug addict. Early in her life, she realized “life” was a school of hard knocks.
She started doing odd jobs around town when she was just 12. She delivered newspapers, worked at a roadside hot dog stand, washed cars…anything that paid.
One day, Joyce was late from her work at the stall. Her house was a couple of miles away. It was dark, and she had to walk back. She rarely had money for the bus fare. It was never a comfortable journey, the route was littered with drunkards, addicts, and…. the brutes.
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Time and again, she had been chased by the brutes. For them, age didn't matter. To her horror, there were three of them that night. Her moments of terror did not hold back her legs. She didn't run; she was flying. The miscreants had no hope of catching her. She evaded them….again.
Her house was not a safety net by any stretch of the imagination. She never called it home. It was always the house. Her father had fits of rage, which he took out on her mother and sometimes her if he was able to catch her.
She loved her books. She loved stories...fairy tales… where the children lived beautiful lives. However, her shrine was the Track & Field. She had speed, she could outrun most of the boys her age. The coach saw great potential in her.
One evening, she came back home and found a note. It was from her mother. She was leaving. Joyce wondered if it would make a difference at all to her life. It wouldn’t.
Her father was losing his health. She had to quit school to look after him. On her last day at school, she went to the running track and bowed, grateful for the solace and happiness it had given her. She turned around to go, looked back one last time, and swore: She would come back, she promised.
It had been a week since she quit school after her father collapsed while walking inside the house. Joyce was now all alone.
Without any relatives, Joyce knew it was a matter of time before she got picked by social services. She had no intention of living in a foster home.
Joyce continued to live at the house. Any time she expected a car to come to her place, taking her away. She drifted off to sleep. In her dream, the brutes had entered her home. They were watching her, lying on the bed. Terrified, she opened her eyes. There were three of them standing there. Oh no, it was not a dream!!!!! She dashed to the door and ran. One of the brutes shouted, “Damn, she can run like hell”. She ran….and kept running till she could not hear any footsteps chasing her.
After a few minutes, she was able to catch her breath. She sat on the roadside. Where will she go? She had a distant memory of an uncle, her father’s brother living in the town nearby. She slept on a bench in a park.
The next morning, good samaritans bought her a bus ticket. When she reached her uncle’s home, she regretted taking the trip. Her uncle opened the door, shocked at Joyce’s presence. Her uncle was a drug dealer. The house was full of people… mean-looking, dangerous people.
It was her uncle’s expression that made her uncomfortable. She was old enough to recognize lust in men’s eyes. Quietly, she slipped out of the house at night. Again, she spent the night on a bench in a park.
Joyce had no clue about what to do anymore. She came back to her house and continued with her small-time jobs.
Another night. Another uneasy trip back to her house. Whenever she felt eyes on her, she ran.
It was another day at the hot dog stall. Busy. A boy walked up to her stand and said, “ Hi Joyce”. She looks up. She tries to recall where she had met him earlier. His name came to her after a few seconds. Walter was her senior from school, a football star, who was hard-strung by life’s levers. A promising talent at school, he got into the wrong company and started dealing drugs. He lost his scholarship after getting arrested on a drug charge. Rumor was, he and his gang were the big players in town in the drugs business.
Walter was aware of her current situation. After her shift, Walter walked her back to her house. It felt good, safe, and secure from the leeches on the street. It became a routine. After some time, Walter suggested that Joyce shift to his place. It would be safe for her. She agreed.
Time passed quickly. Joyce was 16 now. She was working as a waitress at a restaurant. She was happy. Life was settled, peaceful, and steady. Joyce and Walter got married that same year when she found out she was pregnant.
Next year, Joyce had a girl. They named her Rose.
It was at that time that Joyce noticed a change in Walter. He spent a lot of time away from home, drank a lot, and was prone to a foul temper. Gradually, it turned into a daily affair. And one day, he raised his hand and hurt her. Badly. That too, became a daily routine. Beaten black and blue every day, her body and soul were broken.
Motherhood had left her feeling docile, cautious, and scared. Where would she go? There was no one else. She wasn’t working anymore. As happens with many victims of domestic abuse, she tries to justify her fate by ‘rationalizing’ Walter’s behavior. He loves me. He is just stressed out. He does not know that things change after becoming a father. And the list goes on and on.
Another year has gone by. It was getting worse for Joyce. The beatings, the taunts, and the violence were a regular feature in her life. One night, after a brutal beating, she locked herself up in the room and she cried. And cried. And cried. When there were no more tears left, she came out of her room, picked up Rose, and ran like hell. She kept on running till she reached the house of her coach. She knocked at the door. Her coach, Brandon, came out. He was shocked by her appearance and her injuries. But he understood. Joyce and Rose walked inside. She was safe.
A few days later, Walter came looking for her. Brandon came out with a shotgun and glared at Walter. Joyce was terrified. Yet she knew this was the moment that would redefine her life. No one has the right to dictate how she would live. No one has the right to touch her or hurt her. She came out of the house, grabbed the shotgun, and pointed at Walter. “ Walk away, Walter. Never come back. Never try to talk to us. Don't ever dare come near us”, shouted Joyce.
Walter looked into Joyce's bloodshot red eyes. There was a tinge of fear in him that made him step back. He realized it was over. She meant it. She wants to kill him. Walk away, if you want to live.
Brandon and his wife treated Joyce and Rose like their family. They never had children. They took good care of the girls. Finally, Joyce has a home.
One day, Brandon invited Joyce to the school. There was a Track and Field event for school kids. Joyce completed her shift and packed a few burgers and fries for the children.
Watching young boys and girls race at the track brought back wonderful memories. She was the queen of the track, running the 100 m and 200 m sprint races. She was unbeatable, always the fastest. Great times….
Brandon was watching Joyce, totally absorbed in the occasion. Joyce was one of his best students. He had high hopes for her. It was tragic to see a budding athlete lose her way due to circumstances beyond her control.
Brandon went to her. They looked at each other, reminiscing the innumerable times when Joyce raced. Brandon says to Joyce, “Let's go for a run”. Hesitant, Joyce gets up. She starts to follow Brandon in a slow run. She loved the feel of the track on her feet. The wind was blowing against her face. It was magic. Yes, she belonged here…..
At first, Joyce juggled her work and practice. In the next few months, she built a reputation as a sprint runner. She participated in the district-level races, and then inter-state events. Within a year, she got a sponsorship from an international sportswear company. She was now a professional athlete.
US track and field is the most competitive circuit in the world. Her rise was meteoric but steady. Within a year, she was competing in the national circuit. Her moment of glory came when she was selected as part of the US track team for the Olympics.
Joyce absorbed the occasion. This is it. The Olympics. When she sat on the marker she thought of the message Brandon gave her: Run like hell. She did.