The Race

Faster!

I can’t.

Faster!

My legs are tired.

Please?

You stare ahead at the fields stretching endlessly to the mountains. The hidden part of your small desert town. Mountains shield you from the borders, purples and indigos against the blue skies. For a moment you smile, remembering how you always used purple to draw the mountains. You slow down your bike as you ride next to the canals. Not much water today; it must be a drain day. The fields are barren too. All the winter vegetables plucked, shipped, and gone to the rest of the west coast. The fields are waiting for their next seed. As you pedal over the dirt, following the ghosts of past trails, you hear her again.

Faster. Why won’t you go faster?

I’m not you anymore.

You love going fast.

There’s no reason to be fast.

Let’s race.

I can’t.

You pause at the road. Cars thunder past, leaving large gaps for you to sneak by. You don’t cross yet. Birds cry, hiding in their trees. It’s a perfect winter day for the birds. How free they must feel flying around with nothing holding them back. You used to dream of flying with them.

Race me.

Why?

Because you’re still me. Somewhere in there.

I don’t think so.

Remember how we used to fly? When that bike was our dragon?

Dragons aren’t real.

Sure they are. I’ll show you.

You set your foot on the pedal. The winter sun catches on the light blue frame of your bike as you cross the road. You stare straight ahead, watching the trees shake in the breeze.

Ready?

I guess.

First one to the waterfall wins!

You push off, picking up speed as you tread the bumpy road. The wind pushes you forward, flying past your face, tossing your hair all around you. A few birds take to the sky. You remember what it’s like to fly, and soon you’re soaring high above the fields, watching the world pass by around you, until you pump the brakes and skid to a stop. You’re back on the ground, listening to the rushing water flow into the canals.

An alarm shouts from the smallest pocket in your backpack.

Time’s up.

Time to go home.

So you turn around, and head back, faster this time.