The Missing Minute

As a kid there were certain experiences you had to go through, whether it was being chased by a dog, hence my never ending phobia for the four legged canines or playing football which honestly wasn't my best sport, I was always the keeper cause it required less effort. There are numerous small happenings that make up our childhood each in a different way.

As a kid I used to love riding bikes, I mean what else was there to do outside in the evening than race those majestic devices with two wheels. I remember my first bicycle with the support wheels, gotta love those tricycles, there's just something about your first bike.We would go round the neighborhood clinking that annoying bell, all smiles and eager to show off. Of course mama nani wasn't in the least bit amused by our unwarranted jubilation so we would find ourselves quickly dismissed so that we could take our "kiereere" elsewhere.

Of course as we grew older , by that I mean a week later since boys want to become men, the support wheels came off and we sought to scour the lands in the name of exploration. This usually mean about a kilometer radius from home. In hind sight it was a short distance but when you are young the world seems like a vast space and we had been numerously warned about straying to far least we be abducted by the ever lurking stranger.

Now coupled with my love for bicycles was my love for books. Back then pages were filled with color and pamper so reading was an adventure of sorts as you made sense of word and picture. A library had opened up in the estate, a house had been converted in a world of wonder by way of words and I was all to eager to make my way there. So one sunny afternoon me and a pal, James and I, decide to ride a bike there. Now our conundrum was that we only had one bike so I offered to carry him on the support bar between the handle and the seat.

Things were going fine and we were a few meters away from the library when it happened. I have come to call it, the missing minute. The world in a split second turned upside down and I found myself flat on the ground with a mild headache. James was screaming his lungs out and there was blood gushing out of his mouth. As I later came to find out, he had dug his foot into the spokes of the bike which had caused it to suddenly break and hurdle us forward. Unfortunately the brake handle found its way into his mouth and caused a pretty nasty tear.

This did not kill my love for bicycles but it has been a while since last I took the liberty to offer someone a lift on my support bar. just SayinG