I pedal
I pedal a
lot
I pedal in
the wee hours of the morning
And during
the course of almost 4 years, and over 12,000 miles of pedaling the same 10
mile course, I’ve “run into” some pretty strange scenarios; (in addition to a
couple of calamitous falls).
A woman
standing next to the highway, in the shrubbery of a bank, holding a small
terrier, and singing the most eerie tune that’s ever been sung. (Needless to
say, I keep pedaling).
Speaking of
four-footed beasts of the canine variety, a miniature, emaciated Doberman tied
to a lamppost next to the highway. It goes without saying, I can- not leave her
there, but take her home, feed her, and quickly dispatch the precious pooch to
a no-kill shelter.
A young man,
perhaps 6’ tall, 170 lbs., walking along the sidewalk towards me, as I am
preparing to cross a four lane thoroughfare. I look to my right. I see him. I
look to the left. No traffic. I look to the right, and he has vanished from my
sight. Did I mention there is an 8’ wall on his left, and a well-lit highway on
his right?
A young man
with a cane standing at a busy intersection. Approaching him he asks if I can
direct him to a particular part of town. Johnny (for that is his name) tells me
that he has been walking for five (5) hours; having been released earlier that
evening from the county jail. Making a calculated decision I suggest he keep
walking. I will finish pedaling home, retrieve my car, and drive him the
remaining couple of miles to his home. (That I am writing this story and have
suffered no harm or alarm speaks for itself).
And then
tonight
Perhaps the
most bizarre scenario of all
I have just
crossed over one of several four lane highways which exist on my measured
pathway, and mounted the next sidewalk; for I only pedal on sidewalks. Safer,
don’t ya know? (Ironic, I suppose, given this strange series of stories).
I hear it
before I see it. Some muted, unidentified protestations. I turn my gaze in a
diagonal direction. And oddly enough, as it seems now, on the exact same corner
where I encountered ‘Jailhouse Johnny’ are a large black SUV, and a late model
semi-truck cab. Parked at a traffic light, I notice the driver of the SUV is
standing just behind his vehicle, while the driver of the larger truck is
engaged in a struggle with what appears to be an adult female.
I think none
of us know exactly how we will respond to a seeming emergency until it “drops
from the sky” and figuratively exclaims, “Here I am.” Oh, we can imagine what
we’d do, but “the proof is (definitely) in the pudding.”
I do not hesitate
It occurred
to me at that moment that I was willing to do whatever I had to do to rescue
the apparent “damsel in distress.” At the moment, at least, I had no
consideration whatever of the presence of firearms, or taking on two ‘bad boys’
at a time, (or the fact that I am quickly approaching 70 years of age).
I
immediately begin peddling my speedy (well, not so much) bike towards what
appears to be the scene of a crime. As I pedal I attempt to “get the mark” of
the situation unraveling before me. It seems a woman is being dragged into the
driver’s side of the cab, as if the offender intends to take her against her
will.
Twenty feet
from the truck now, and the young (or not so much) lady is being pulled (or
clamoring) over the legs of the driver and into a jump or bench seat to his
right.
Ten feet
from my goal now, and the driver’s door slams shut. I peer into the poorly lit
cab and it seems the driver and potential detainee are still, and awaiting the
decision of the other vehicle. The man walks to the driver’s side of his car,
gets in, makes a 90 degree turn, and the semi-cab follows suite. I watch the
two vehicles as they accelerate, and eventually disappear out of sight.
As ‘Mrs.
Fairfax’ (re. the novel, ‘Jane Eyre’) was heard to say,
“What to do?
What to do?”
I reach into
my pocket and consider the possibility of dialing 911. And yet. Wasn’t the
woman ‘cool, calm and collected’ as the door slammed shut in my face? And
didn’t the driver of the other vehicle casually stroll to his car, as though
nothing was amiss?
I consider
an alternative possibility
Perhaps the
three individuals knew one another. Perhaps the driver of the first vehicle
stopped at the light to allow the woman to ride in the second. Perhaps she and
the pilot of the second were a bit ‘tanked’ and simply engaging in some raucous
revelry. And rather than using the passenger door, she chose to enroll herself
in the cab the hard way.
I delay. I
debate. I deliberate. (All those ‘D’ words).
I desist
Approximately
three minutes elapse and I hear it before I see it. (Rather familiar, don’t you
think)?
A sheriff’s
department cruiser comes sailing down the highway at break-neck speed, its red
and blue lights flashing, and its siren screaming.
I can only
surmise, having witnessed the unusual scenario unfolding before him or her, a
witness retrieved his or her phone and made the call.
My brother
is, himself, a long haul truck driver, and I often give him a ring as he is on
his way to Miami and I am completing my ‘O-dark-thirty’ trek. This morning my routine
was the same, though the story I shared with him was anything but routine.
Wayne, being
a man of few words, generally allows me to do most of the talking. However,
having heard my fateful tale, he responded with,
“Maybe you
should ride in the daylight, rather than the dark!”
I responded
with,
“Very wise
advice. Maybe you’re right!”
There’s a
scene in the movie, “The Karate Kid” in which ‘Daniel-son’ interacts with an
Okinawan bully.
Our hero
speaks.
“Hey man.
I’m not looking for trouble!”
To which the
local thug responds,
“Maybe
twouble lookin’ for you!”
I can relate.
As a freshman in high school I learned an old Irish prayer. It seems rather fitting here:
As a freshman in high school I learned an old Irish prayer. It seems rather fitting here:
By William McDonald, PhD. Excerpt from (Mc)Donald's Daily Diary. Vol. 33. Copyright pending
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