I
clutched onto his smooth rain jacket, wrapping both hands so that
they clasped onto the familiar. But nothing felt familiar about this
situation at all. Foreign thoughts and meanings meant to be
interpreted filled the recesses of my mind, so foreign that
butterflies filled my stomach with unruly pains. I thought I might
throw up, and reminded myself that I wouldn’t because I hadn’t in
years. Before I could move into another arbitrary thought of throwing
up, we accelerated in speed.
The
bike hummed a deep thunder that vibrated up my spine and into my
skull. It rolled around in the little space that belongs there and
rushed through my arms. The intense energy escaped from my fingertips
last, soft at this point and dulled. Again I grabbed tighter, hoping
that my arms would not somehow forget how to hold on. My stomach
began to relax as we slowed down and stopped completely. My legs had
turned into heavy dead weights that were yearning for stability. They
did not want to get off but instead wanted to stay completely
resistant to any sort of movement. I pried them off the side and
readjusted my organs.
The
helmet sat securely on my head until he laughed and shimmied it off.
The temperature of my fingertips dropped rapidly but I couldn’t
understand why. He held them, with the intent to hold them for a
while. His grip was firm with an unknown conviction that I’m not
even sure he knew about at the time.
The
moon peeked out from behind the clouds, only to shy away from the
watching bystanders. The sky turned into an ominous black as I grew
accustomed to staying still. The moon continued to hide. It didn’t
want to come out and deal with what was going on, but instead wanted
to stay in the minds of those who remembered it as a bright and
lovely object. So there it stayed. My hands were feeling better now,
almost like I was beginning to feel better. I left my head with the
helmet next to the bike and walked for a bit. We weren’t going
anywhere in particular, but just going. It felt that way all the
time. No brain and no control over what was happening. I just walked,
only without the knowledge of how to move my dead weights.
The
bike was waiting for us when we got back. It sat longingly as the air
started to whisper of rain. Maybe it too worried about us, about me.
It was time to put my head back on and go home. The hum was different
this time. It echoed in my newly readjusted head all the things that
were happening in this new state. It was a longing, but with
something like pure terror hiding inside.
We
rode the city streets and the moon was still hiding behind the dim
clouds. I couldn’t fathom why something so iridescent and beautiful
would hide. But I suppose nothing ever makes sense to the person
looking at a mirrored image.
