Silent Heroes: Wildcat

Chapter 2: Cirque du Soliel

Moments later, I was zipping down the road on my bike, my body crouched low over the handle-bars, my legs a blur of movement beneath me.  The day was perfect.  The sun warm and strong on my face, the air crisp, cool and clear.  The quiet, residential streets were lined with huge maple trees, each one topped with orange, red and gold.  A brisk wind rustled their branches and shook loose a sprinkling of multi-coloured leaves, which flared like embers in the golden sunlight as they fell.

The road curved gently.  I leaned into it without slowing my pace, more leaves leaping and twirling in my wake.  I was picking up speed, my wheels making that oddly satisfying whizzing noise against the pavement.  I wish I could say that my hair was also flying gracefully in the wind, but being as thick and heavy as it is, it more jerked and jumped around my head like an unruly pile of angry snakes.

I noticed a steep hill approaching right ahead.  I stood up in my seat while at the same time flattening myself even lower over the handlebars.  I had tried hundreds of time to make it all the way up this stupid hill but always ended up having to get off and walk at about the halfway mark.  The thing was huge and so steep that, from a distance, it almost looked like a sheer drop.

On wheels, it was a punishing, almost impossible climb.  But, for some reason, right now it not only looked doable.  It looked positively easy.

As usual, my forward momentum carried me easily up the first few meters of the slope.  Then gravity started to kick in. Or, at least, I felt it kick in.  I felt the downward pull on my bike and increased pressure against my feet, but my pace barely slowed at all.  I could feel the strain in my legs, but my muscles didn't scream in protest like they normally would.  I shot all the way up the hill almost as fast as if I was on flat ground. 

Before I knew it, I had crested the peak and was racing down the other side, trees and houses whipping past me in a blur.  The road twisted and turned.  I twisted and turned with it.  I swerved back and forth along the pavement.  A pair of cyclists on tall, lean street bikes appeared on my left.  I shot past them as if they were standing still.  Moments later I saw a group of runners up ahead, spread out across the entire street.

Without pausing to think I dove right into the middle of the crowd, weaving and dodging around them like stationary traffic cones.  There were a few shouts and exclamations of surprise.  One man was throwing his arms all over the place and his hand just about smacked me right in the mouth, but I swerved out of the way at the last second and broke out on the other side, completely unscathed, though with quite a lot of angry shouting echoing at my back.

A laugh rose up in my chest and released itself into the air.  It seemed like I could keep going forever.  Without getting tired.  Without even breaking a sweat.  I had never felt so strong, so energized, so alive!

My confidence was shifting now into recklessness and I decided to try something I hadn't done in months.  I had never pulled it off successfully and my last attempt had put me in the hospital with a gash on my head and twelve stitches in my arm.  But, today, I was fearless.  I was invincible.

I crouched down low over the handlebars and then pulled hard in the opposite direction.  The front wheel lifted up off the ground, still spinning madly, the spokes a blur of silver.  The front end of my bike reared high into the air.

I balanced precariously in my seat and held it steady, knowing the slightest shift in my weight could send me careening over backwards.  I held my position for at least a minute, sailing down the road on a single wheel, a huge, stupid grin plastered across my face.

I felt another laugh bubbling up in my chest, amazing and exhilarated by my sudden, unexpected athletic skills.  Maybe all those hours of training on the school track team had finally paid off.  Or, perhaps I was just in the "zone."  I'd heard of people doing amazing things when their mind and body became extremely focused.

Or maybe someone had slipped me a stimulant at lunch.  Who could say?

My house was another five minutes away, but I stayed out in the streets for hours, reveling in my new-found skills.  I popped a few more wheelies, my hair whipping out behind me, the pavement a blur under my feet.

I raced up and down hills, leapt over cracks in the street and took turns so sharply that my knees almost skimmed the ground.  I found a deserted skate park and performed a series of tricks and jumps that I had been trying to get right for ages.  They had seemed impossible no more than twenty-four hours ago.  Now I could pull each one off flawlessly, plus inventing a few others besides.

The wind picked up and storm clouds moved in, bringing the heady scent of impending rain.  The sky darkened and before long it was coming down in torrents.  The sane people all retreated inside.  I stayed out in the rain, performing more tricks on my bike, splashing through puddles and catching droplets of water on my tongue.

By the time I got home, I was sopping wet and shivering with cold.  I found my own house amid the other identical suburban homes, glided up the driveway and into the open garage.  I aimed my bike at the usual spot, wedged between piles of boxes and random tools.  I bailed out at the last second, allowing the bike's momentum to carry it the rest of the way.  It landed in place with a gentle crash while I did a pirouette through the air and landed lightly on my feet.

"Wow," I said.  "Forget becoming a doctor.  I should join Cirque du Soleil!"