My godmother insisted that the three of us (Yan Diego, my godsister Elizabeth and myself, that is) go outside and get some fresh air after being cooped up all day.
I wasn't entirely opposed; I'm just not known for being the greatest pal of nature.
"Ohmygosh Maman, can we take the bikes out please, pretty please?" Elizabeth begged. She's a bike enthusiast, just by the way.
"Yeah, sure, just get the hell out of the house," was her mother's reply, not looking up from the newspaper in her hands.
"Yan Diegooooooo!!! Come onnnnnnn, I'll teach you how to ride the unicycle!" Elizabeth promised as she hiked her socks up to her knees.
Internally groaning because I knew I'd make a fool out of myself, I followed both of them out into the driveway. I hadn't set foot on a bike since I was 13 and ever since, I'd developed a serious fear of anything that could possibly injure me. I know that sounds pretty ridiculous—you know, living your life in fear and all—but I couldn't help it. I think the last time I'd gotten a scratch from anything but being clumsy was a solid five years ago. But I couldn't seem like the lame party-pooper so...
"It's easy. You just put one foot here, and then the other foot over there, and just start pedaling!" Elizabeth encouraged me. Honestly, if I was going to make a fool outta myself, I'm glad it was in front of her. She's just too good for this world.
"Oh dear Lord," I muttered, holding my breath to avoid Yan Diego's sure-to-come insults.
I placed one foot on one pedal and then the other foot on the other (only after asking Elizabeth how the breaks worked about five million times) and before I knew it, my shaky legs were moving in circular motions—almost too quickly.
"HOW DO I STOP?!?!"
"Hahaaaaaaa!! Sucker!!" Of course this would be the first of many insults coming from my older brother.
"Just use the breaks! You're killing it, don't worry!" Elizabeth reassured me from a distance.
I frantically looked down at my handles, which were fixed with about six too many switchy-thingys and gears and buttons and I couldn't help thinking why on earth you'd need to have this many options.
I slammed on the breaks just as I got to the edge of a very steep hill, nearly falling over. My heart was pounding in my ears. We hadn't been outside for more than ten minutes.
"You got it! Just try not to stop so abruptly next time," Elizabeth granted me a warm smile, expertly parking her bike next to mine.
"Yeah, just don't be stupid next time," YD said matter-of-factly. I bit my tongue.
"How about we try this again, shall we?"
Gulping, I nodded my head, making sure to follow her very precise orders of holding the breaks as I went down the hill while allowing gravity to do the rest.
Just as I was starting to get the hang of it, Yan Diego zipped past me.
"Can you not? You're stressing me out," I yelled at him.
"You're always stressed out," he sneered, zooming by me in antagonizing zig-zags.
"Don't listen to him, you're doing really really well!" came Elizabeth's sure response before reminding me we could go as slowly as I needed.
It took me a couple of trial and errors to figure out the grass trails as opposed to the pavement we were previously on. I think it's about time I mention my godmother's family lives in the middle of the woods in Massachusetts.
After one particularly rough hill, I got thrown off my bike into some patches of clover.
As per usual, my brother zoomed ahead of us while Elizabeth stayed behind to make sure I was okay. It was almost frustrating, in a way. I'm an entire year older than her, she shouldn't have to be taking care of me.
She's a year younger yet she's smarter, stealthier, stronger, quirkier, and infinitely more capable than I. It was humiliating.
Maybe you should start going to the gym, Maya. You're really out of shape.
"Are you sure you're okay?"
"Yeah, let's keep going," I pulled out a tight smile before mounting my bike for the millionth time.
We'd been riding for a solid half hour now and I could already feel the sweat trickle down my back and collect into the bunched-up parts of my overalls.
Now I remember why you hate sports.
I will admit, I felt a strong sense of accomplishment for having overcome all those rocks and roots and evading horse shit and dog-walkers. It was tough stuff, mind you.
For not having ridden in three years and jumping right into woodland bike trails, Elizabeth said I was doing fantastic and that she was proud of me, so there's that.
As it was nearing dusk, the mosquitos and flies and beetles and other winged creatures made their presence known by buzzing in front of my face every three seconds. Did I mention I'm not a nature person?
Then came my near-death experience. No, it wasn't as interesting as it sounds.
It was just another one of those stupid hills again and Yan Diego decided to park himself right at the bottom of the hill at the last second. Seeing as I was behind him and didn't want to crash, my instincts told me to swerve to the right—right into the swampy water.
It all happened so quickly, I can't exactly remember all the details. I just know one moment my hands were shaking and the next, I was pulling my laces out of the bike chain. Thankfully I didn't fall into the wet part, but instead got tangled in with a bunch of thorny branches. My heart pounded in my throat and my lips were dry as a board. My helmet clung to the sweat on my forehead and I was picking hair out of my mouth. I didn't have a single scratch.
You're not even hurt, Maya. Stop freaking out.
I felt tears prick the corners of my eyes but I didn't let them fall seeing as it was Elizabeth's idea to go biking and I didn't want her to feel bad. Besides, it would just give YD another opportunity to call me a baby.
"Hey, we all have bad crashes sometimes. It's all good," Elizabeth offered me a strong, tanned hand as she pulled me up from the dusty ground.
"Thanks," I mumbled, fingers still frantically shaking as they gripped the bike to pull it up.
And in less than a second, we were off again, stumbling through the woods like expert explorers. Or the other two did. The welt in my throat hadn't decreased and I had this bad feeling in my chest like I couldn't breathe. This was just what track season felt like, only worse.
"You sure you don't want me to stay?"
"Yeah, no, it's fine, you two go on ahead, I'll catch up in a bit," I promised Elizabeth, giving her a reassuring nod.
"Okay... Well thank you for trying, anyway! It really means a lot to me!" she shouted back as she pedaled off into the distance.
And then it hit me like a brick wall. All the anxiety I had felt during this entire time smothered into one big boulder. It just occurred to me I'd been off my meds for over a month now. And not intentionally.
Don't you dare fucking cry. Don't you dare. You're not a crybaby.
I suddenly realized I was all alone in the woods at night with zero sense of direction, a bike that was about twice my size, a sweaty helmet and a five trillion pound bag of anxiety.
Heaving sobs racked out of my body like too-tightly-contained oceans. I didn't want any passerby's to hear me so I kept silent, but my left hand latched onto my neck—the other gripping the handles of the bike—desperately trying to gasp for air.
You're overreacting. This is so pathetic.
Why was I freaking out? I'd only had a tiny crash scare, but no harm done, right? Why did it suddenly feel like the world was running out of oxygen and the trees only grew twenty feet taller?
I stared at my beat-up, red converse in order to focus on something. I couldn't remember where I'd read that but apparently focusing on small realities helps relieve disproportionate meltdowns.
My shoes were dusty now. As were the cuffs of my overalls.
Deciding I had better get a move on before I completely forgot where I was, I wiped the snot on my sleeve before grabbing hold of the handles once again.
I walked side by side with that bike, up rocky trails and down steep and bumpy hills. It'd been an hour since I'd seen the other two.
It occurred to me that I could die in these woods. I could just sit down and no one would ever find me if I didn't want them to. I couldn't tell you why such a thought was equally alarming and calming. I guess the whole humiliating ordeal made me beg for invisibility.
You're such a wuss. Get over it.
Mile after mile passed on and that bike wasn't getting any lighter. One man even stopped to ask me if my bike was broken. He had passed me on the trail three times already.
I finally came upon a sliver of land I recognized, and an old couple walking their dogs said hello to me.
"Hi, how are you?" I gave them a polite smile and a nod and just as swiftly was on my way.
It was the first time I'd heard my own voice out loud for almost two hours now.
"It's not fun to be lonely," I thought to myself as I carried the ever-growing burden of a bike up yet another hill.
It was nearly dinner time when I made it back to the road we were first on. Exhausted and very dizzy, I told myself there were only two hills left.
"But these ones are paved, so they're not as bad," I thought, knowing water would be at the top of those hills.
The house came into view and I walked in covered in sweat, mud, dust, and red welts from where the bike dug into my shins. I made it.
I couldn't think of anything better than taking an ice-cold shower and downing an entire gallon of water. I was also outrageously hungry and for some reason, I didn't have the slightest idea why.
I allowed ice water to wash over my face and trickle down onto my chest and legs. I suddenly wanted to cry all over again but I had no reason to. It was all over now. I was back home and comfortable and hydrated again and just a tiny bit sore, but that was no reason to cry, was it?
I guess that's what happens when you get off your meds for too long.
I was done with biking.