“See you at the top of the mountain,” were the last words I recalled saying to my friends as she beamed with joy at the prospect of riding out dirt bikes for the first time.
We had agreed to carry on a race towards the top of the mountain, but little did they know that I had my plans. I knew shortcuts good enough to get me to the top within minutes and even allow me time to engage in other activities along the way. So, I geared myself up, ready and beaming with a rather wild smile as I rode my dirt bike along the road and slowly made my way up.
“Eat my dust!” Mark, a friend of mine came rushing past while taunting me as I watched him ride off into the distance.
Remaining undaunted and with the same smile still on my face, I rode a few distances up the dirt road before cutting right, towards an abandoned shed where my cousins and I used to spend the weekend camping in. The trail along the bush path had slowly dimmed thanks to the storm that brewed days before, but I was certain of myself.
“We’d see who’s dust would be eaten Mark,” I giggled while powering my bike through the barely visible path.
Feeling good about myself and without a care in the world about the dimming light behind me as I struggled with my bike through the shades provided by the trees and shrubs around me. Slowly veering ahead and barely noticing a stomp in the ground before me, I stumbled ahead and dangerously so with my bike toppling over and my arm getting a bruise.
“Be careful!” the voice cried aloud as I crawled into a sitting position and began dusting my hands.
Startled and struggling to ascertain where the voice was coming from, I hurried to my feet, paused and waited for the person to voice again.
“Hello! Is there somebody out here?” I called out and awaited a response.
Silence followed, but the thumping sound from my fearful heart was loud enough to derail my senses.
“You should watch where you’re riding next time,” the voice spoke again and this time in a disgruntled manner.
Choking down some rush of air while I remained motionless for fear of being chased or attacked by whoever was speaking to me, I slowly began retreating towards my bike.
“Be careful now… don’t step on me!” the voice became louder, and to the scariest effect, I ever had to endure in my life.
There it was, staring right back at me and donning a rather different look from what I was used to. My dirt bike had transformed and now bore arms and a rather thick eyebrow just around the handles.
“Wha… what!” I screamed.
I hurriedly turned around and began running blindly through the bushes with no particular destination in mind. The bizarre incident was the most troubling I had ever come to see and I simply just wanted to get away from it.
Regardless of how far and well I ran, it pursued me until I could hear its wheels grinding hard against the soil behind me.
“You’re taking us the wrong way!’ the bike yelled after me.
Trying hard not to look around, I replied over my shoulder, “There is no us… I just want to get far away from you”.
Still, without an understanding of how my dirt bike had transformed, I hurried ahead and soon find myself stopping abruptly as I risked running into a large mountain bringing an end to the path I had hoped to follow to make my escape.
“This isn’t happening to me!” I cried in despair with my hands on my head.
I watched my bike draw closer, slowly coming to a halt. “I wasn’t planning on hurting you… I simply wanted to win this race for you”.
I wasn’t about believing a talking bike, and so I continued to retreat with my back until I could feel the stony mountain halt my movement. My eyes rolled in their sockets in discomfort, and my knees threatened to buckle as lumps of discomfort slowly gathered inside my mouth.
“Can we get back on the road now?” the bike asked.
I shook my head and responded, “I’m never getting back on you again!”
It simply chuckled derisively at me and rang its bells before coming closer. “I am your one escape ticket from this place before nightfall if you want to survive whatever strange animals are lurking around here.”
As painful as it was to agree with the talking dirt bike, it felt even more disturbing to accept its help and get on it.
“You have to promise you aren’t going to act all squishy when I sit on you,” I warned.
It simply chuckled again as I gently sat atop of it and motioned for the handles before getting stung.
“Hands off dude!” it warned, prompting me to ease off my hands. “This bike rides itself… more so, you already got us lost, and I have to find the way back”.
I gulped down hard in disbelief as I tried making sense of the oddity of my situation.
“I wonder if your friends have noticed your disappearance,” the bike mocked.
We rode along some dead paths until the shimmering light in the distance gladdened my heart as we approached the main road again.
“Here we are,” it whispered as it neared the road. “Treat me better and don’t keep falling over stomps,” it warned.
Bobbing my head gently in agreement, it slowly transformed as we rode back unto the main road. Groping the handles and doing well not to fall with the dirt bike for the second time, I found myself struck in awe and consumed by shock on whether or not I should tell my friends of my awkward experience.
“They wouldn’t believe me,” I concluded in surety. “They will assume I’m nuts.”
I decided it would be my secret.