The Ride – Chapter Two
Something had moved in the darkness ahead. It was like a piece of darkness had separated itself from the rest. He stood hard on the brakes and almost went over the handlebars. Righting himself, Glen strained to listen. Yet, all he could hear was his heart hammering in his ears. “Damn!” he gasped, his breathing now ragged and heavy. “Damn!” He hadn’t been this scared since the accident that took his wife and almost killed him. Thoughts of this came flooding back into his mind. Thoughts that he had successfully pressed down deep. Thoughts of blood, chrome and broken bikes.
Sandy his wife had been a great rider and great to ride with. They had shared many adventures traveling up and down the west coast. She had been strictly a road rider when they had met… and, although he was the one that had gotten her into mountain biking, she had quickly passed him by in ability. She used to tease him with, “I’ll wait for you at the top, Slowboy!”… God, how he missed her!
They had never heard the SUV coming over her laughter of him almost crashing as they popped out onto the street from a secret favorite single track near their Seattle home. Sandy’s last words were “I’ll race you home, Slowboy!” and took off. Her words were almost lost in a loud screeching of tires. The black SUV slid by Glen, brushing his handlebars. Funny, the things you notice when time slows down. The driver talking on a cell phone, the child in the back seat with her face pressed against the glass, eye wide and blue. Sandy’s blond hair spilling out from underneath her helmet and flying in the wind… the smell of burning rubber … the loud scream erupting from your mouth as the SUV plowed into the back of Sandy’s bike… and then it was real time and Sandy’s bike was cart wheeling down the road like a toy… and Sandy had finally coming to a stop yards away… almost unrecognizable with all that blood. Such memories need to be pressed down. Such memories need to be locked up and the key thrown away.
The rest of that late afternoon and evening were lost to Glen in a series of police, tow trucks, reporters, ambulances and ER. All he knew was that his wife, his lover, his ridding buddy, his soul mate was gone… and nothing else in life mattered.
That is until something moved in the darkness.
“Damn” Why hadn’t he bought a light? He always brought a light when he thought he was going to be out riding after dark. Well, that wasn’t going to help now. He had heard of mountain lion sightings recently in the park. He had always chalked that off to somebody mistaking a golden retriever for a lion… at a distance they both looked the same. “Could it be a lion?” he wondered. Well, in that case it was something he could deal with. It was something known… something tangible… he could handle this!
But strain as he might, he could neither see nor hear anything. In fact he couldn’t hear a thing… something he remembered that he had thought before. “Is anybody out there?” His voice seemed to be small and thin. “I’ve got to keep going… I’ve got to keep going…. I’ve got to keep going” seemed to play like a broken record over and over in his mind. “Good!”… that kept away the scary thoughts about what had moved in the darkness. Climbing back on the bike, it felt suddenly warm and friendly… a friend to have in a tight situation. Something that he knew… Something that he could rely on. The rubber tires made a light crunching sound on the single track which was now brighter than ever. “I’ve got to keep going… I’ve got to keep going…. I’ve got to keep going became a mantra spoken in time with the pedals. Speed… that was it… speed was good.
Was it his imagination?… it seemed to be getting a little brighter ahead of him. “I’ve got this licked… I’m OK… I must be coming back to the main trail” He suddenly laughed to relieve the tension that had been building… now starting to feel a lot better. “I’m almost out of the woods” he thought. “Piece of Cake, baby!” he wanted to scream.
Then something touched him…and scream he did…
– READ CHAPTER THREE –
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OMR – Old Man Riding @ STR