Along for the Ride

Adam looked at me, and I felt myself flush. ‘Wow,’ he said solemnly. ‘That is serious.’

 

‘See?’ Maggie said to me. ‘I told you he was the right person to call!’

 

Adam came closer, checking out both the bike and me on it. ‘All right,’ he said after a moment. ‘So what method of instruction have you been using here?’

 

Maggie blinked. ‘Method of…’

 

‘Did you start with the buddy system, and then move on to assisted riding? Or do assisted riding first, with the intention of a slow, incremental build toward independent movement?’

 

Maggie and I exchanged a look. Then she said, ‘I just kind of put her on and let her go.’

 

‘Oh, man. That’s the fastest way to make a person hate the bike.’ He gestured for me to get off and roll it toward him, which I did. Then he climbed on. ‘Okay, Auden. Get on the handlebars.’

 

‘What?’

 

‘The handlebars. Climb on.’ When I just stood there, clearly doubtful, he said, ‘Look. If you want to learn to ride a bike, you have to want to learn to ride a bike. And the only way to do that is to see how fun it is, once you know what you’re doing. Hop on.’

 

I shot a look at Maggie. When she nodded encouragingly, I eased myself up on the handlebars, trying to be graceful about it. ‘Okay,’ Adam said. ‘Now hold on tight. When we get going really fast, you can let go, but only for a second, and only when you really feel ready.’

 

‘I’m not letting go,’ I told him. ‘Ever.’

 

‘That’s fine, too.’

 

Then he started pedaling. Slowly at first, and then a bit faster, so that the wind was blowing back my hair and ruffling my shirt. Once we reached the end of the parking lot, he hung a right and kept going.

 

‘Wait,’ I said, looking back at Maggie, who was watching us, her hand shielding her eyes. ‘What about…’

 

‘She’s fine,’ Adam said. ‘We won’t be gone long.’

 

We were on the main road now, moving swiftly along the shoulder, the occasional car passing us on the left. The sun was fully up now, and the air smelled sweet and salty, all at once. ‘Okay,’ Adam yelled as another car passed us, ‘tell me what you’re feeling.’

 

‘I’m hoping I don’t fall off the handlebars,’ I told him. ‘What else?’

 

‘I…’ I said as we bumped off the road, onto the boardwalk, ‘I don’t know.’

 

‘You have to be feeling something.’

 

I considered this as we started down the boardwalk, which was mostly empty, save for a few early morning walkers and a bunch of seagulls, which scattered as we approached. ‘It’s like flying,’ I said, watching them rise up. ‘Kind of.’

 

‘Exactly!’ he said, picking up the pace a bit. ‘The speed, the wind… and the best part is, it’s all you doing it. I mean, it’s me, now. But it will be you. And it will feel just like this. Or even better, actually, because it will be you doing it, all on your own.’

 

We were really going now, the boards clacking beneath us, and I leaned back farther, letting the wind hit my face straight on. To my right, the ocean was so big and sparkling, and, as we whooshed along, it was a steady blue, blurring past. Despite my worry about falling, and my various embarrassments, I felt a strange sense of exhilaration, and I closed my eyes.

 

‘See?’ Adam said, his voice somehow finding my ears. ‘This is a good thing.’

 

I opened my eyes, intending to respond to this. To tell him he was right, that I understood now, and how grateful I was that he’d given me this chance, and this ride. But just as my vision cleared, I realized we were passing the bike shop, and turned my head, looking at it. The front door was open, and in the second we blew by it I could see the back lights were on and someone was standing at the counter. Someone holding a plastic coffee cup. Maybe we were going so fast that Eli didn’t even see, or if he did, had no way of knowing it was me. But regardless, for one instant, I decided to let go for real, and held up my hands anyway.

 

For the next week, Maggie and I practiced almost every morning. It was a ritual: I picked up two coffees at Beach Beans, then met her at the jump park clearing. At first, on Adam’s advice, we incorporated what he called ‘assisted riding’, i.e., me pedaling with her holding on to the back of the seat. Then we worked up to her letting go for small increments, while still running behind, so I didn’t topple over. Now, we were increasing those periods, bit by bit, while I continued to work on my balance and pedaling. It wasn’t perfect – I’d had a couple of wipeouts, and still sported scabs on both knees – but it was much better than that first day.

 

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