Lovers Anonymous

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The next day, Saturday, I went to the motor pool and got my motorcycle. That was my favorite form of transportation. Since I was the only assigned rider, my blue and black Suzuki was exactly where I had left it more than a month earlier. If I ever needed a jeep, all I had to do was ask for one, which is what I usually requested for the weekends. Because of my neck, I hadn’t ridden in a month. I barely even drove. But being chauffeured around was getting lame and that day, I definitely wanted to feel the rush of air.
I rode for several hours far up into the mountains that overlooked the bay of Port-au-Prince and away from any roads. I rode until even the trails became nothing more than goat paths. I rode until there were no homes and no sign of human presence. The further up I went, the cooler it got. Lord, it felt good to breathe crisp, clean, mountain air!
When I was far enough up the mountain that an encounter with another human was almost impossible, I got off the bike and sat on a boulder. I lit a cigarette and looked off into the distance. Through the haze I could see the island of La Gonave; just a formless blotch of grayish brown, competing with the setting sun for my attention. It was no contest. La Gonave didn’t stand a chance. But as the sun started to set, it made a token gesture to the island by highlighting its edges with a temporary crown of fiery red. It was time to ride home.
I prepared myself for the adrenaline rush that was to come. I was far from any road and soon it would be dark. I had to ride hard and fast through fields, hills, valleys, and ravines while there was still light. I decided on the most dangerous route. Rather than go back the way I had come, I would take the long way, forward over this mountain and down the other side to the very bottom and take the dry riverbed back to town. It was a crazy thing to do, all the more so because I had no protective gear other than my helmet. It didn't even occur to me that I had so recently broken my neck and I was supposed to be taking it easy.
The race was on as I gunned the throttle and tore up the grassy mountainside looking for any shortcut to the top. Every second was precious. I had to fly, and fly is what I did. At almost no time were both wheels on the ground together and quite often I would be soaring through the air, using any available surface as a ramp. The feeling was wonderful; I was getting high off the adrenaline flowing freely though my body as I maneuvered my bike across the landscape. When I flew over the top and started my descent down the other side, my momentum, gravity, and the terrain all conspired to force me into a straight line down the steep mountainside, but that would have meant certain death. I fought the mountain, pulling first to the right, then to the left, zigzagging my way down the slope. As I rode, only one mistake away from serious injury or worse, I couldn’t help thinking: If I were to fall and die what a glorious end it would be! We all had to die sooner or later, but to die on my terms, that would be something indeed. I clenched my teeth and pushed the death wish out of my mind. Some day, perhaps some day soon, but not that day! I had no intentions of surrendering my life to this mountain. I rode for all I was worth, racing not only against the mountain, but also against the setting sun.

Copyright © 2007-2008 Xavier Pierre Jr. All rights reserved.