He was about ten feet ahead of and nearly fifteen years younger than me. The semi-inflated tires of our clunky bicycles rolled slowly over the gravel; the rusting bike chains creaked and groaned from our weights as we lethargically pedaled up the hill.
He effortlessly swung his right leg over the seat and dismounted the bike. Leaning his weight through his arms onto the handlebars, he dropped his head, sending his dark hair flopping over his face.
My legs were tired, too.
Maybe my left foot missed the pedal; maybe I had prematurely shifted my weight to the sinister side.
I fell off the bike.
He heard the rattle of the chain and the clatter-shatter of the bike frame crashing into the loose gravel. Both he and his bike halted. An expression of concern graced the features of his pubescent (though still hairless) face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“Yeah,” I replied, brushing the pebbles that had planted themselves into my left palm. They left shallow, irregular craters in my skin. Hoisting myself back onto my feet and the downed bike onto its wheels, I felt the twinges of pain associated with the birth of bruises: violet blossoms would soon appear on my left knee, right wrist, and left ankle.
“I’m fine,” I lightly continued, already pushing my bike forward to hasten the passage of the event. He waited for me to catch up before resuming his walk.
“That must have been embarrassing,” he commented in total seriousness.
I was unsuccessful in stifling an amused smile.
“Yes, it was,” I replied.
26 Mar 2007 |
What a great comment, on so many levels. :-D
Comment by Jesse | 26 Mar 2007 @ 9:18pm
You should talk to Amanda about falling off of bikes… she seems to be cursed by it.
You often leave so much unsaid in your posts, they can be very mysterious (and well-written).
Nice job working sinister in there too, I didn’t even notice it on the first read.
Comment by Brock Tice | 27 Mar 2007 @ 5:10am
My mom is one who falls off of bikes! But I do have a story about this and her ultimate sacrifices for me! :-P When I was a baby, my parents had a baby seat on the back of the bike. My parents went out riding one day, and my mom had me on the back of her bike in the baby seat. However, she started to fall in our neighbor’s driveway, and she reached her arm back to prevent my head from hitting the pavement. She still has a scar on her arm - but she saved my head! I don’t know how old I was - I know I don’t remember it, and my brother wasn’t born yet - so probably 1 year old or something like that!
We rented bikes when we took a short trip to Nantucket a few years ago. My mom got mad at us because she’d fallen off her bike (she can’t stand riding near cars - it makes her too anxious), and we were ahead of her and didn’t realize she had fallen. She had all these scrapes on her. I felt terribly about it! She’s just not a bike person!
I rode over a parking block on my bike as a kid…learning how to ride without training wheels. I also hit a tree once…and the branch scraped my head and it bled like I’d gotten some deep wound - but it was really just a small scratch! I guess when I was younger, I took after my mom on bikes! I’m not as bad now.. ;)
Too precious what that kid said!! Kids are so honest, and I love that…. I’ve been reading over a journal I kept as a child - it’s amazing the things I said and thought! I would never write them now, even if I knew nobody was going to read it! Kids are more honest with themselves than we even are as adults, I think!
Take care,
Carrie :)
Comment by Carrie | 28 Mar 2007 @ 8:21am