The sun shines, distinctly, on the awakening city. The birds clamor as few clouds drift about. The day is quite unseasonal. The roads come to life with cars shuffling about. A small green house stands amidst it all. And inside, Jack eats the last of his oatmeal and his wife, about to head to work.
“I love you Jack, have a great day.” She says. Grabbing her purse, she bends over Jack, who sits at the kitchen table.
“I sure will. I’m gonna go to the insurance place and square that away,” Jack replies, between bites. He rubs his smooth round chin as he mentally thinks of his chores. He kisses his wife. “Have fun at work honey, I will have dinner ready when you get home.”
She replies, “You are the best, Jack, I love you,” as she heads out the door.
Jack finishes the cold oatmeal and begins collecting his things. Not tall, but lanky, Jack dons a flannel and a down vest. He finds the package for his dad, paperwork, and the shopping list and stuffs them neatly inside his small rucksack. His nimble hands fill a bottle with water and grab an apple. A mental man, he constantly runs thoughts and ideas through his head before speaking or doing most things. Acknowledging he has packed everything he needs for the day, Jack sits down to roll up his pant leg to prevent it from getting caught in the bike gears.
Jack steps out his front door and notes the warm weather with a smile. These pleasant winter days are my favorite. He pauses, looking up and down the street and noticing the street is calm and relaxing. He steps onto his stoop, turns, and locks the front door. I should sit out here and read a book this afternoon. He hops down the stairs and goes around the side of the house and gets his bike and rolls away. A car speeds by as Jack turns onto the street.
A few hours later, Jack has already been to the DMV, a coffee shop, the bank, and the post office. The traffic is busier than normal but Jack thinks nothing of it as he rides towards Albert’s Grocery Store. He is accustomed to the ebb and flow of traffic, but after watching a friend get hit by a car, he prefers empty streets, and avoids the busy ones. But today, the 13th of February, is different and he pedals, methodically and in sync with his music.
After checking out and grabbing his two paper bags of groceries, Jack walks outside into the warm air, fortified by a cool breeze, and ponders; I can’t wait to make dinner. I need to hurry home so the bread can rise. He transfers the food from the paper bags to his rucksack and the crate on the back of his bike. A jug of milk, sack of potatoes, bag of flour, onions, cheese, and more. He balances his load between pack and crate. After years of commuting, he has become quite adept at balancing a load of groceries on his bike. I could have bought more, oh well. Plugging headphones into his ears, he sat astride on his bike and pedaled out of the parking log.
Taking a left at the stop sign, he comes to a large and busy intersection. He pauses, waiting for the light. Should I head home the long way or the short way? I need to make bread. The light switches from red to green. Cars begin to shuffle into the intersection. I’m sure ready to get home and relax. The quick route. He makes the right turn onto a main thoroughfare through town.
He finds his place on the side of the street. A small rivulet between stagnant and flowing traffic. A precarious position for the adroit bike rider. But the music comforts his nerves. He stops and goes, playing red-light, green-light with the vehicles. After a few lights, Jack feels comfortable. And continues on. Stop. Go. Red. Green. His mind lost amidst thoughts. Up ahead, an empty intersection with no waiting cars on either side street. Noticing this, Jack peddles faster, hoping to get there before the light changes…
* * * * * * *
“Hey Amber, how ya doing?” Jennifer chatters into her cell phone. The other side responds. “I’m good. I just got off work, got paid, and am ready to par-tay tonight, are you at the house?” Jennifer mentions. Her pink phone neatly tucked under her lavishly pierced ear with her right hand. The other grips the steering wheel. More talking from the other side and Jennifer has a hard time hearing. “Hold on Amber, I can’t hear you, let me turn down the radio.” She reaches down to turn down her radio. Glancing from the road to her dash. She finds the knob and begins to turn it…
* * * * * * *
…Jack flips over the hood of the car, followed by his bicycle, and soaring groceries. The car screeches to a halt and Jack and the bike smash into the ground. Jack bounces and skids to a grating halt. The milk explodes onto the pavement. Potatoes and onions bounce and roll all over the road. The sack of flour ruptures and drapes the street in white.
“Oh shit!” screams Jennifer as she drops her phone, slams on her brakes, and looks to the right. A red bike. An immobile man. Both surrounded by a mangled collection of groceries. She looks up at the light just in time to see it turn from red to green. No cars move. Stunned into confusion, she opens the door and runs around the front of the car to the man. “Are you okay, sir?” she yells. Oh fuck, what did I do? What do I do? Returning to her car she grabs her phone, “Amber I have to call you back.” She quickly hangs up and dials 9-1-1.
The back wheel of the bike is still spinning as a crowd begins to gather. Sirens grow louder and the crowd thickens. Jennifer sees his chest moving, then blood. Growing light-headed, she sits down, leaning against her tire and begins to cry, her tears irrigate her thick makeup down her face. Sirens are near. Oh god, please hurry. Perplexed and aghast, she waits, quivering under fear, shame and sorrow.
Paramedics arrive. They have braced his neck and repressed the profuse bleeding. The police question Jennifer as she watches Jack get lifted onto a gurney and into the back of the ambulance. And her cell phone is in a plastic evidence bag. The crowd starts to dissipate and traffic begins to unclog. A stranger pulls the red bike off the road. An officer sweeps the potatoes, onions, and other groceries off to the side. The cops escort Jennifer to the station and the ambulance, with neither lights nor sirens, pulls away with Jack inside.
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