I saw a girl on her bike get hit by a car today. I’ve never seen that.
It was right downtown. The whole block froze.
– ARE YOU ALRIGHT?!
…is all that was heard in the surrounding dead silence, yelled by many of us. Still no one moved. Everyone was still.
She stood up. Shaken. Embarrassed, she tried to jump on her bike and ride right off. Her bike was broken… she couldn’t go anywhere.
I was still. We were still, bound together by this frozeness.
The car that hit her drove off and still I stood frozen. We stayed frozen. Numb. The car parked and a man jumped out and ran back to the scene.
The girl walked her bicycle to the sidewalk and waved to who? everyone. and yelled, “I think I’m fine, thanks!”
Emotionless, I moved on with my evening. Everything was fine; it was time to meet a friend in need for a drink.
After the drink, it was off to the market with me for asiago cheese, a carton of wine and a hair brush. [you know, the staples to get by.]
When done, I hopped on my bike and waited to make sure the parking lot traffic was clear.
A man, a man with obvious disabilities, a man with some kind of keyboard around his neck, a man with a limp and a slurred voice, ran into traffic.
This was terrifying. And, for some reason, the first thing I thought was, “What is that keyboard around his neck? I feel like I should know what that thing is… what it does…”
– STOP! WATCH OUT!
A car stopped dramatically. Everyone stopped. Frozen again. We watched.
The man ran, limping, across the lot with true fear in his eyes and a deep fear exuding that is usually only cured by a tight, genuine hug.
It was moving. So moving.
I biked off and my chest welled. I couldn’t control it. A tear fell from my face and I thought, “What is going on? Why are you crying?”
The couple blocks to my apartment were a novel… ending with counting every step up my stairs as the final pages. But walking around my apartment were secret, hidden lines.
I walked around this apartment with determination, breathing out a couple, “woooooo”s and “hoooooo”s, calming myself down and fighting more tear… fighting hard… not knowing the strange, powerful feelings that had filled me.
And I still don’t know.
And I guess that’s it.
[that is it.]