Bicycle

I run very fast – so fast that no one on their feet can catch up with me. 

But feet are what I need to be able to move.

I like to say that I have the power of a jaguar but they place labels on me and say that I can only possess the strength of a horse.

My owner is a girl of about 16; you can tell she’s new at this. When she sits on me she can control my every move which can be exhausting because sometimes I want to go one way but she won’t let me. She lacks the confidence that comes with experience. Not everyone has the opportunity to be taught younger though. So I let her guide me.

I’ve seen 14 out of the 50 states in America. Eight of them were with my previous owner but he never sat on me. He just drove this big truck as I rode in the back with others like me – all different colors and sizes. 

Then the girl saw me at this fair that people were having. She pointed and screamed to her dad how much she wanted me and he couldn’t say no. 

I was once ridden by a stranger. When he sat on me I immediately knew that it wasn’t my owner because he was bigger. Also, he used a stick to break me free of my chains and control me. My owner always knew where the key to controlling me was.

He took me somewhere I had never been before. And then he abandoned me like I was no one. I was so sad and scared that night because I couldn’t run on my own.

Then other strangers in blue suits rescued me and took me back to my owner. She was so nice. She fed me thick liquid which made my stomach grumble but it was okay.

She hid me in a small house next to her home where her father kept tools and her childhood toys. I was happy; no stranger could get me now. And I wouldn’t be left outside where my shiny red exterior would burn as a cause of the sun’s rays. 

I love my owner. She holds the key to my engine.

We spend a lot of time together, my girl and me.

We have seen the roses bloom twice now and decay into a bitter cold. One day they attached me to the back of her father’s truck and they moved boxes from her home to a large building filled with other young people her age. They unhooked me and stood me in front of the building. I could see her father and her as they took boxes into the structure. They said goodbye and she ran in. I could see a tear escape his eye. Would we be staying here?

Stay we did, for years. 

I met a slew of friends that came and went. I saw my girl laugh and cry. She met a boy and they would take me for long rides. Their lips would meet and they would smile as if they knew something secret. One day they screamed at each other and she ran out of his home and straight onto me. We went for the longest ride that night. She stopped under a bridge and cried until she fell asleep. 

She no longer was my girl. She was more serious, more mature. My girl was now a woman.

She kept to herself for a while and finished living on that campus. Her father would visit sometimes but this day he packed all those boxes back up and hooked me onto the same old truck. She went back home and everyday she would ride me to a large glass and metal building and spend hours inside.

One day it was raining so much, it was flooding honestly. A young man came out of the building as she stood there staring at the water. She smiled shyly and it was a smile that I had seen on her face many years back. They spoke and laughed. When the rain calmed, he opened his umbrella and walked her over to me.

One evening, I could see from a small space in my house door that the young man showed up in a car. She wore a dress - something she scarcely did since riding on me.

They were inseparable after that day in the rain. They laughed and I was so happy to see her enjoy life again. She cried one day and ran inside and I thought it was over, but he showed up with flowers the next day. Years after that, she dressed in a gorgeous white gown and she moved to a new home with her young man.

As time passed, she rode me less. One day, I could see the bump upon her stomach and she put me away for good, in a room with their now two cars. 

I have seen her hair turn gray and her children grow older. I have seen six more states. I have seen their cars change and the seasons come and go. But my girl has never given me away. She takes me out a few times a year. Sometimes just us alone.

One day, she walked in with her youngest child, a boy of about 16 and she uncovered me. “I was about your age when grandpa got me this. It’s yours now. Live your life to the fullest, be safe and careful, but never stop moving forward.”

My new owner reminds me of his mother, her spirit. I can’t wait to see what becomes of his life.