It was cold out; somehow it seemed colder than normal on this mid summer day. As I walked alone down the street to my house I noticed that someone new was moving in two doors down. With a look of intrigue on my face I made my way to my front door and quickly ran to the window pulling the blinds apart to get a peak of who is moving into the house that has remained vacant for the past six months. As they slowly unloaded the boxes off that back of that uhaul truck, I noticed a boy sitting alone on the front porch of the house they would soon call home.
Sitting there silent he nodded his head slowly to a death metal band singing a ballad about war. I remember asking myself why he was just sitting there and not up helping everyone else carry the boxes from the truck. Brushing it off I walked away from the window and headed up the stairs to my room. The carpet is still new, finally after the entire commotion mom finally let me carpet my own room with a soft to the touch but dark in comparison black carpet. Just looking down at my achievement made me feel just a little bit cooler than everyone else.
Shuffling thru a stack of cassettes I grab a megadeath tape and throw it in the stereo. To see if I can get his attention I played Train Of Consequences just loud enough he could hear it from his porch two doors down, that and I cracked open the window a bit to ensure that it would not go unnoticed. “ERIK” my mother screams, I simply smirk knowing that it was also loud enough to get under her skin as she screams up the stairs for me to turn it down. I decide to forfeit the battle and focus my efforts on the war, and turn the music off and make my way back downstairs.
She’s ranting and raving about something or another but all I see is her lips moving, this is the best thing about being a child. They call it selective deafness, the ability to tune out everything and anything that doesn’t really matter. I wait patiently until her lips stop moving and ask her “hey mom, did you know that people are moving in next door?” quickly she replies back with “did you hear a word I was saying?” again to avoid further conflict, I shake my head as I find my way back outside.
Today is a Tuesday that means that Sky is home. Sky lives next door to me, her father hates me and her mom thinks I’m adorable, I guess her mom never looked twice. Sky along with her younger sister Sheena lived in that house long before we moved in next door, I figured she would know more about the new arrival on the other side of her house. I make my way to the porch and before I can knock on the door the dog started barking, soon after Sky answers the door with a surprised look on her face. “Long time no see stranger” She says, “I saw you like a week ago, what are you talking about” I reply. “Oh nothing just giving ya shit” Sky answers. After a brief conversation I was only able to gather that they new kid on the block had moved up here from Texas, and aside from that I still knew nothing.
I make my way down the driveway and to the sidewalk, as I approach the road I ask myself “why don’t I just go over there and talk to this kid?” Unable to really come up with an answer, I make my way across the yards and to the porch where he was still listening to Metallica in an almost post traumatic state. “Hey what’s your name?” I shouted out trying to make sure he heard me over the music. He sat there with a look on his face that really can’t be described in words, almost a mix of surprised and lonely if there is such a thing. I repeated the question only rephrasing it beforehand, “My name is Erik, and I live next door. What’s your name?” I repeated. “Kevin” he mutters just loud enough for me to hear it.
Knowing what he was listening to, I asked him anyway hoping to strike up some conversation. We then sat and talked for a bit before he had to get up and go with his family to pick up some furniture from a storage shed. As we said our goodbyes I made sure to let him know where I lived in hopes that we can maybe hang out, after all it is summer and there isn’t much to do in this city on your own.
Making my way back to my house I looked back at Kevin, he smiled and said to me “so you like Megadeath?” apparently my mission to get his attention worked, I just smiled. I head out to the garage and take a look around, man this garage is a mess. I like to fix up bikes, paint them and add parts to them. Over the years I have collected just enough junk to fully assemble a good 20 bikes. Right now my focus is only one tho, I never really had a name for it but it was the one that got all my attention. A spectacular color of candy apple red combined with just enough chrome to make sure it didn’t go unnoticed; this was my ride around town. I wiped off the seat and took it out for a ride, something about feeling free as a child can’t be beat. After riding around aimlessly for a few hours I head back home and call it a night, back to the battlegrounds I thought as I walked in the door. In most peoples cases this is the part where the concerned parent asks where I’ve been all day, in mine I find her passed out on the couch. Up the stairs and off to bed I go as tomorrow is a brand new day.
I wake up to the sun peaking in from the edge of the blinds on my window. I am fairly certain I would much rather be sleeping at this point then making my way through the rest of day. As I walk downstairs my mom let’s me know that a kid named Kevin stopped by earlier asking if I was around, amusingly I couldn’t remember who Kevin was for a moment as my memory of the day before was still being processed. She said he stopped in less than thirty minutes ago and that he said to stop by his house. I head outside and down the street and find him on the porch again only this time he was listening to Pink Floyd’s album, The Wall. I asked him if he stopped over and he shook his head letting me know he had. I sat down next to him and asked him what he was listening to; this is becoming a tradition when I talk to Kevin.
He carries on about the band informing me that they were the best band ever; I smiled and said I would take the time to listen to them. We talk for what seemed like minutes and was actually several hours like we were old friends. Kevin’s real parents were killed when he was 8 years old, car accident. The people I thought were his parents, was actually a foster family moving in to a bigger house in order to make room for there new arrival, Kevin. He was quiet and mysterious as he talked about them; he has only known them now for a few weeks and is having a hard time warming up to the family. “They always pretend to like you in the beginning, then they just leave you behind in the end” Kevin says, “It’s easier to just make them not like you from the start so that they can accept you as you are” he continued.
Kevin didn’t have too many things, just a bag full of clothes he collected from different families the past few years, a boom box his mom gave him as a boy, and a collection of cassettes ranging from hard rock to classical. Music was important to him, a solid form of expression from a traumatized child. I remember asking myself where he kept everything. But soon realized that with a lifestyle on the move, the more you have to carry with you the harder it is to let go.
I asked him if he had a bicycle, his response was short with a simple “no” and a disappointed look on his face. I thought to myself about the situation and asked him if he wanted to come over to my house and help me assemble a bicycle. “I’ve never really done that before” he replies. “There’s nothing to it” I answered, with a shake of his head we were off the porch and on our way to my garage.
When the garage door opened his response was like a kid in a candy store, his eyes lit up with a radiant light. I walked to the back of the garage and grabbed the frame that we would assemble. It was a polished chrome with black decals GT Mach One frame, the only attached parts were the front fork and a double linked chain. Rummaging through the piles of parts I had a stack of accessories laying on the ground next to bare bone bicycle and a kid who couldn’t seem to stop smiling.
“Here grab that seat over there, and we can put that on first” I say. He reaches into the pile of parts and grabs the seat I had chosen for the project we were working on. After a few hours of turning wrenches and a little bit of elbow grease, there before us stood a fully assembled glorious chrome GT. I looked over at Kevin and asked him what he wanted to do now, he almost looked confused when I asked if he wanted to go for a ride. You take the new bike, I’ll take mine. In a matter of minutes we were off on the road with the wind in our hair and freedom on our faces.
We spent most that day roaming around the city as I showed him around and we stopped by the park to take the bikes out on the vert ramps. “Want to see something cool?” I announce with excitement held deep inside my voice. Kevin answers me with a smile on his face. I ride down a bit and a line up for my launch, my target was large garbage can placed on the edge of the parking lot. As I approach the garbage can, I pedal with my all my strength. The garbage can grows in size the closer I get, now only a few feet from the can I pull the bike off the ground, with all my strength and fly like an eagle over the top of the trash can, and land solidly on the other side. “How did you do that?” Kevin screams. “I just bunny hopped the trash can, it’s not hard to do if you want to learn.” I reply. We spent the next two hours jumping back and forth as Kevin learned what it felt like to fly like a bird.
The sun faded away as the moonlight set in, we made our way back to our block and up my drive way. As we get to the garage Kevin thanked me for letting him ride my bike. Sensing the excitement and knowing what I had I didn’t hesitate to reply “no Kevin, that’s your bike”. His face lit up so bright that it almost took my breath away, “no one has ever given me anything like this” he says, “take a look around man, I’ve got more than enough” I reply. I place my hand out in front of him, and he slaps his to mine, “let’s do it again tomorrow” I said smiling. With a shake of a hand the plans were made and we both made our way to our homes. I remember thinking to myself how much fun I had, and laid in bed and scratched my nose looking forward to what kind of adventure tomorrow will be.