Inevitable
By
Damián Francis
When I was an eleven year old boy, many
people used to ask me why I had panic to ride a bike, in fact, I had an idea,
but I was too young to understand that a single event could bring about endless
inevitable fears and phobias that only maturity would be able to help you
overcome.
Riding a bike, one of the most
remarkable phobias I used to have in my life, began on January 6 in 1988, when
I was only eight years old. This specific day in January is very special for
kids in the Dominican Republic because we celebrate children’s day. At that
time, we celebrated it totally different from now: children used to invade the
streets with their toys and spent the whole day running up and down the paved
jungle. I don’t forget the kids with their dolls, toy weapons, Rubik cubes and
bikes taking over the streets. Parents, on the sidewalks, looked like watchdogs
taking care of their puppies.
Up to that day, owning a bike had been
one of my biggest desires, my mother was always against the idea of buying a
bicycle for her kids, and she would say that it was too dangerous for us
because there was a lot of traffic in the neighborhood. My father, reacting to
my pressure, decided to surprise me, and
bought me a beautiful silver Aerocycle with blue tires and covers, it was the perfect one, the bike that I had always
dreamed about. In the Dominican Republic, parents used to buy the presents for
children’s day the day before, and hid them for the day after, of course if it
was a bike, like mine, it could not have been hidden because it was a big
present.
I remember, the day before children’s
day, I could not sleep, I just repeated in my mind “I wish it was tomorrow”. I
got up a couple of times at mid night with the only purpose of touching my brand new vehicle. I do not deny that I thought once or twice that it was a
dream. The day after, I got up earlier than usual, took a shower, brushed my
teeth, got dressed and waited until 8:00 am to go out and enjoy my super bike;
I was ready for bike riding the whole day. I thought that I would not have to
pay 25 cents for a bike rental any more. At that time, it was quite common to
learn how to ride a bike in a rented bicycle; of course it was the way I had
learned. I will never forget that my mother made breakfast, but I did not pay
attention, who would think about food on such a special day?
Before I went out, my mother told me
that I was allowed to ride my bike only near the house, I obeyed, but only
during the first two hours, then I got bored, and decided to go a little
further, a couple of minutes later I would recognize that it was an
unmistakable mistake, despite the redundancy. I moved a block further than I
was asked, then two, and made a right, went straight ahead, made another right,
and after that another until I arrived in Juan Erazo Street. I was so
self-confident with my riding skills that got to compare myself with Sean
Kelly.
Some minutes later, I woke up with an indescribable pain in my whole body. A cripple man who worked at a grocery store was slapping my face. A lot of people were surrounding me, I remember a chubby woman say “this boy has to be taken to the hospital”. I had been hit by a silver 1986 Toyota Corolla car, coincidentally a silver color car, like my ineffable brand new bike. For about three or four years, I could not ride a bike because I thought the same would happen to me again.I developed an irrational fear for riding bikes. During the process of becoming a teenager, I started to be more careless. Many of the fears I had up to that moment I started to face them, in order to show my friends that I was courageous and strong, in fact I tried to hide all my phobias because I wanted to be accepted in the group. Not only was I able to ride a bike again, but also to do dangerous things with my friends’ bike like riding on one wheel or with my hands without touching the rudder.
Some minutes later, I woke up with an indescribable pain in my whole body. A cripple man who worked at a grocery store was slapping my face. A lot of people were surrounding me, I remember a chubby woman say “this boy has to be taken to the hospital”. I had been hit by a silver 1986 Toyota Corolla car, coincidentally a silver color car, like my ineffable brand new bike. For about three or four years, I could not ride a bike because I thought the same would happen to me again.I developed an irrational fear for riding bikes. During the process of becoming a teenager, I started to be more careless. Many of the fears I had up to that moment I started to face them, in order to show my friends that I was courageous and strong, in fact I tried to hide all my phobias because I wanted to be accepted in the group. Not only was I able to ride a bike again, but also to do dangerous things with my friends’ bike like riding on one wheel or with my hands without touching the rudder.
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