In Tandem

by Christina C Jones

  It felt good.

  I was surprised that being back on the bike gave me that feeling. It had been months, at this point, since I stopped bothering to train because I knew this was over for me. I couldn't deny though… it was pretty damned nice to be back in the saddle. Getting my heart rate up, feeling the wind on my face…

  I couldn't imagine anybody except B getting me to do it though, still.

  Leaving the bed and breakfast, the terrain was different. Much less populated, much more greenery, and much narrower roads as we headed up into the mountains that would eventually turn into what the locals affectionately called “Big Sugar” – Sugar Leaf Mountain, which loomed over our destination of Sugar Valley.

  There were a lot fewer people going this way, so obviously they didn't need a big wide interstate or anything like that. What started as a four-lane highway dwindled down to two as we got closer, and the road started to really wind up the mountain.

  I had B in front of me because that was the safer position. With us biking in the same direction as traffic anyone coming down the mountain would be able to see us a lot easier than someone coming up the mountain behind us on these winding roads. Someone coming behind us would at least see me first, which lowered the chances of something happening with B.

  Maybe not the most optimistic of plans to make, but it was simply smart cycling to think ahead about possible scenarios. Between the two of us, and all our years of biking the one thing we learned as a consonant was that drivers were barely paying attention at all, and even less on a road as typically unbusy as this one.

  I felt the shift in vibration in the road well before I heard the roar of an engine. I glanced back, catching sight of a huge pickup truck in my peripheral, hurtling up the road behind us, going well beyond the speed limit. I immediately moved further into the shoulder and sped up, trying to get close enough to Britt to warn her.

  Instead of slowing down and following the rules of the road, the truck veered into the other lane to pass me as we took on a tight curve Britt had already disappeared around. I didn't slow down, but the truck had to, which was the only thing that kept it from turning into a disaster.

  He didn't see Britt.

  He couldn't have, not with the way he cut back into the right lane after that curve. B must have been hyper-focused on getting up the hill, because she didn’t look up. I sped toward her, getting between her and the truck just in time to grab her handlebars and shove her wheel in the opposite direction, away from the road as the truck swerved into the shoulder lane.

  I wasn't hit.

  I was not hit.

  I understood that, but for some reason the earth still seemed to be rocketing toward me in hyper speed. My bike twisted underneath me as I veered off the narrow, mountainous road and my body didn't seem to be picking up on any of the signals I was trying to send from my brain.

  Unclip your cleats from the pedals, Raf.

  Don't panic.

  Course correct.

  None of that happened.

  What happened instead was the harsh impact of my body hitting the ground, while my feet were still somehow connected to my pedals.

  I closed my eyes against the sharp bite of pain that rushed through me as my exposed skin skidded along the gravel. The bike landed on top of me, with my leg twisted underneath.

  I didn't open my eyes.

  As long as I kept them closed, it was almost like I could stay disconnected from the pain, and didn't have to take a mental inventory of what was happening.

  I didn’t have to accept it, as long as my eyes were closed.

  “Raf! Raf!”

  I heard it – the voice of an angel calling to me, but I tried my best to tune it out. I wasn’t ready to reconnect to reality yet. Not prepared to accept what was next.

  “Raf!” Britt screamed again, from closer this time. I could feel her, lifting the bike off me.

  “Stop,” I muttered, trying to get her to understand that she wasn't helping. It was too stimulating, and I wasn’t ready to feel anything yet. She didn't hear me or something though, and leaned down over me, patting my face like she thought I was unconscious.

  “Raf…” Her voice was rife with worry, and right on the verge of tears.

  “Stop,” I said again, as she began touching me everywhere - taking on that inventory of my limbs that I’d been trying to avoid.

  I opened my eyes to see that those tears I’d noted in her voice had already made their way to her face, soaking it as she fussed over me.

  Like I was an invalid all over again.

  “Could you fucking stop!” I demanded, this time finding enough breath to sit up and push her hands away from me, effectively stopping the mother hen thing she had going on.

  Her eyes went wide, confused and hurt as she lifted her hand in conciliation. “I’m just trying to make sure you're okay,” she said, as I pulled myself to my feet.

  I didn’t look at her – couldn’t look at her, not right now. I turned in the other direction as I focused on my breath, focused on getting air into my lungs. On breathing, and not being in pain.

  I was upright.

  I would probably have some bruises, but I wasn't in enough pain for anything to be broken.

  And there was no fog of confusion and uncertainty like what the hallmark of my initial reaction to my other accident had been.

  Then, I hadn't been able to stand up on my own.

  I was conscious, laying there in a rocky ravine thinking I was dying, willing someone to come along. It had been a long solo ride though, that I hadn’t told anyone about – no one who knew me would know where to start looking.

  But I got lucky.

  Someone did come along, but I was unconscious by then, and never got to thank the person who had very likely saved my life. I’d closed my eyes in the middle of nowhere, a professional cyclist with a long career ahead of me.

  A literal golden boy.

  I’d opened my eyes in an Italian hospital I’d been airlifted to. Not yet realizing that the person I’d been had very likely died in that ravine.

  “Hey,” Britt said quietly, from behind me.

  I turned to see her holding up the little first aid kit she’d packed in her bag. “Can we get you cleaned up?” she asked, and I nodded after looking around to take in where I was.

  Not in Tangier.

  Not alone.

  Not on the verge of death.

  I sat down on the edge of the ditch I’d apparently fallen into. A quick glance told me Britt had pulled her bike off to the side, out of the way of any passing traffic. The only thing that had drawn blood was a nasty scratch on my arm.

  Before she could do anything though, I grabbed her hand, making sure I met her gaze before I spoke. “I'm sorry,” I told her. “For snapping at you. I lost it a little bit for a second, and I… I’m sorry.”

  Britt shook her head and smiled. “Don’t sweat it,” she said, her voice soothing. “You were dazed, and I was fussing over you. There’s nothing wrong with you wanting me to give you some space.”

  “That's no excuse for me to be an asshole though.”

  She laughed as she started cleaning up my scratch. “Well… that's true. But still. I'm not holding it against you.”

  I shook my head. “When do you ever?” I asked. “You're always being hella nice to me.”

  Her nose wrinkled. “Yeah… you're my friend. Why would I be anything other than nice?”

  “I mean… it happens sometimes,” I told her, flinching a little as she used an alcohol pad to disinfect the scratch before she started to dress it. “People don't do so well by people they love all the time.”

  Britt stopped what she was doing to meet my eyes. “I really try not to be one of those people,” she countered. “Especially when I know I can be a bit of a handful sometimes myself.” She finished getting me bandaged up and then sat back. “I need you to be real with me… Are you okay to get back on the bike, or do I need to get some help?”

  I rol
led my eyes. “Come on B,” I said. “I'm fine. I’ve gotta check on my bike, but I'm fine.”

  It didn't take much to confirm the bike was fine after the little spill I’d taken. I was glad for it, because that would have been a considerable inconvenience that would have ruined this trip that was so important to B. At her insistence, I took a few more moments to regain my bearings… but then we were off.

  I put on a neutral face for Britt’s benefit, but truthfully…I was right back to not really feeling this. It was nothing but my love for her that had gotten me to consider this ride in the first place, so surely it could get me through the rest, even now. I knew I wasn’t necessarily injured, but I was still aching from the fall, which I couldn’t let Britt see unless I wanted to get fussed over again.

  Instead of focusing on the negative feelings of how I didn't really want to be here, I focused instead on the scenery.

  The lush green hills, the mountain peaks in the distance, the birds we saw, the deer, how incredibly blue the sky was. All things to enjoy and appreciate instead of dwelling in my head and allowing those destructive thoughts to overshadow the beauty around me. We’d only been about thirty miles out from the mountain when my little spill happened, so it didn't take us long to reach our final destination - the idyllic, mostly black small town of Sugar Valley, set at the base of Sugar Leaf Mountain.

  At the population sign Britt stopped, staring up at what was an admittedly pretty view of the town from the outskirts.

  “So you’re finally here,” I teased, rolling up beside her. “Is it everything you hoped and imagined it would be?”

  She looked back at me with a massive grin on her face. “More, actually,” she admitted.

  “Let’s get up here to the lodge then,” I told her. “My ass could really use a break from this seat.”

  Brittany nodded, but made no move to get past the population sign that marked the town limits.

  “Hey… what's up with you?” I asked. “We made it. This is what you wanted and you’re not going to roll that bike up a few more inches so you’re actually inside?”

  B scraped her teeth over her bottom lip, turning to me with this look in her eyes I could only really interpret as… fear.

  She was anxious.

  “Uh…yeah,” she nodded. “We're here. I'm here. I just have to get back on this bike and ride up to the lodge. Through… this whole little downtown strip, with all these people looking at me. And then walk in, up to the front desk. And check-in. That’s all.”

  “Yep,” I agreed, as I got back onto my bike. “That's all. Come on. Let's do it B.”

  Without waiting to make sure she had climbed back onto her own bike, I took off down the road toward the town. Once I was closer, I glanced back to see that she was indeed behind me, riding with this determined expression that made me turn back to the road with a smile.

  I knew the reason behind her hesitation. It got old being an anomaly, having people stare at you like you were from another planet.

  I got it.

  It was her reason for wanting to hang close to the Heights. But this was an essential step for her, taking this trip that she had been thinking about and wanting for so long. We hadn't come this far to not get it done.

  The actual town of Sugar Valley was comprised of one main street, where everything was. The side streets that branched off led to houses and small neighborhoods. That made it very easy to see where pretty much everything was, and see exactly where we needed to go - up the mountain a little bit to get to Maple Leaf Lodge.

  The mountain, the lodge, the town, all of it was named for the densely scattered maple trees that were a hallmark of this area. I wasn't sure if I was imagining it or not, but the air here smelled sweeter than being in a city like Blackwood or our beloved Heights.

  It was just… different.

  It was fresh.

  Which helped a lot, considering how much air I had to gulp into my lungs in order to make it up the hill leading up to the lodge.

  “Son of a bitch,” Brittany breathed, once we'd finally made it to the top. She stopped in front of the lodge, unclipping her cleats from her pedals to roll her bike into the stand located near the front door. “I could very easily never do another climb like that again.”

  “We had bigger climbs than that coming up here, come on,” I ribbed her.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, maybe taller but not as steep. I've been training, but not that damn hard.”

  “You have been training,” I said. “You've been training hard. I meant to bring it up to you when we stopped for the night yesterday. I'm proud of you.”

  She propped her hand on her hip and took a long swig of her water before she answered. “What did you think, that I would just fall off because you weren't here?”

  “No, not at all,” I assured her. “I'm just saying, I'm glad you didn’t. Makes me feel like I may have made a little impression on you or something.”

  “Ohhhh,” she grinned. “The narcissism comes out.”

  I shrugged. “Just a little bit, just a little bit. But seriously.” I pointed at the lodge door. “We're about to go in here and do this, right?”

  B took a deep sigh, then put her water bottle back in the carrier attached to her bike. She went to her saddlebag that we’d both equipped to carry the things we’d need for our few days here in Sugar Valley, and took out a wallet that she held up and waved. “Yes,” she nodded. “Let's do it.”

  Before we went inside, we both changed shoes so that the metal tips on our cleats wouldn't damage the lodge floors. After that, I followed her inside, up to the counter where a pleasant-looking older black woman greeted us warmly.

  “Well don't y'all look sporty?” she gushed at both of us, then turned her attention to Britt. “You sure are wearing those lil shorts, I like that,” she told her, referring to Britt’s colorful bike shorts. “I need me some shorts like that to walk around in, give these folks around her something to talk about – and my man something to look at,” she laughed. “Ohhh, y’all have the special tops and helmets and all that! Y’all must be really serious about it.” She stopped talking for a moment to peer at me. “As a matter of fact…,” she said. “You kind of look like—”

  I shook my head, stopping her before she could get it out. “I get that all the time,” I told her. “And I consider it a compliment, so thank you.”

  She didn't look completely convinced that I wasn't Rafael De Luca, but she let it go either way, turning her attention back to Brittany, who gave her the information she needed for our room.

  “Well,” the woman said a few moments later, after she'd gotten everything verified. I was glad as hell Britt hadn't put my name on that reservation, because the last thing I felt like doing was answering any sort of questions. “The two of you will be in cabin 12, which is a two-bedroom. My name is Regina. If you need anything, you can come right back here and ask for me. If I'm not here, my son Ben will be here. Him or one of the other folks running around here somewhere.”

  “Thank you,” we both said and then walked away, both relieved that none of the awkwardness that often happened with Britt because of her skin condition had occurred. It certainly wasn't always, but it happened enough that you almost kinda expected people to be stupid.

  “Oh wait, wait, hold on!” Regina called as we were headed out the door. “I've just got one question I've gotta ask.”

  We both turned and she gave us a big smile. “Look at y'all,” she said. “Looking like something off the cover of a magazine, such good-looking young people.”

  Beside me, B stiffened. “What was the question?” she asked, keeping her voice pleasant, but I knew her well enough to know that she was on guard.

  Regina’s face brightened into an even bigger smile.

  “Y’all hungry?”

  Chapter Seven

  After we ate, Raf wanted to hike.

  All I wanted to do after the greens, macaroni and cheese, baked chicken and apple pie Regina Wilburn had stuff
ed us with, was crawl into my bed in our cabin and sleep it off.

  But, because Raf wanted to, after coming on this trip with me in the first place - and after risking his own life to save mine - humoring him with a hike was the least I could do.

  Besides… it couldn't hurt to work some of the food off.

  The only problem was, we'd been pretty limited with what we could pack for this trip. Anything we wanted to bring, we literally had to carry ourselves, either on our bikes or on our backs, both of which weighed you down.

  Slowed you down.

  So naturally, the instinct was to pack light, which didn't particularly include the type of gear you needed for a hike.

  Luckily, that was Sugar Leaf Lodge’s specialty.

  We hadn't talked about it yet, but I was glad to finally be here after having talked about this trip for so long. For years now at this point. I'd always been a little afraid to venture out, not wanting to subject myself to idiocy.

  But so far, I was kind of wondering if I was the idiot. Nobody seemed to be paying me much mind. Or maybe that was just because of where we were - perhaps these people just had too much of their own business to be concerned about my skin.

  “Wait, we're renting all this, including boots? So I've got to put my feet in rented boots some other sweaty bitch hiked in?” I asked Raf, who had been the one to approach the rental counter and get gear for both of us.

  He shrugged. “There are socks too,” he said, as if that would make it any better.

  “Yeah, but once I actually start sweating in those things...”

  Sure it was spring now, so the weather was beautiful and not too hot. But exertion was going to make me sweat either way, and I was already missing the shower I hadn't taken after our ride.

  “Oh, I forgot, you be on your clean freak shit,” Raf teased. “It's just a little sweat, B. It's not going to kill you.”