Prison Would Not Do Her Well

*** continued from previous post ***

The whole time that I'm pushing backwards, balancing a five mega-ton machine to keep it upright, and worrying about your mom, I had one eye on the bear. My other eye, in a panic no doubt, had left the scene. That's what I thought at the time, but later realized that I was scrunching my face really hard as I pushed.

I saw the bear pause on the hillside, swaying back and forth on her front legs, no doubt wondering what Fairy Godmother had visited her unannounced and spread a smörgåsbord of imbecilic tourists for her delight and could she finish it all at once or would she have to get a 'to-go' bag?

One more mighty push of my legs and we were clear. I caught a glimpse of a couple inside the car closest to us. A balding man with a scruffy growth of 'outdoor' beard. A woman with long dark hair. They waved and smiled like this was the most ordinary thing in the world. I managed a smile back but it may have been a bit lopsided owing to the fact of a tremendous burst of adrenaline rampaging through my body. You know, that much adrenaline makes me. . . twitchy.

I turned my attention away from my new-found friends, possibly the last people with whom I would ever have any kind of human interaction, turned the handlebars on the bike as far as they would go to the left and continued to twist even after they came to a stop just shy of the gas tank.

I thought maybe I could just keep pushing until matter gave way on the subatomic level and turned the bike inside out, surrendering to quantum gravitational forces that hopefully would spit us out of this Universe like a watermelon seed from a twelve-year old farm boy's mouth. Hopefully to a dimension where there were no bears.

Now, as anyone that rides will tell you, moving a motorcycle with the forks 'locked' in this manner at slow speeds is one of the most difficult maneuvers to accomplish on two wheels. Let me rephrase that - the most difficult maneuver to accomplish. . . successfully. It's quite easy to start that tight circle and then fall over.

However, I was hoping to avoid the whole 'falling-on-the-ground-and-crying-like-a-baby-whilst-being-mauled-by-a-bear' thingee. I know. I put a lot of conditions of life, don't I? I had to accomplish this feat. If not for my sake, for your mom's. She was way too young to go to prison for killing her spouse.

So, I revved the engine, and eased off the clutch as I threw my weight to the opposite side of the bike to counter-balance the turn. To my surprise, and with a 'whoosh!', the bike spun around like a well oiled top and before I knew what was happening we were upright and pointed AWAY from the bear.

This, as Martha would say, was 'a good thing'.


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*** the journey continues ***