Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

My grandmother had given me a bike for my eighth birthday. A white and pink bike with a bell and a basket and everything. A real gem, it was.

I remember one year riding and riding all around the neighborhood for hours. I’d say hi to all of the neighbors and ring my little bell. They’d wave back, laughing and smiling at me. I’d ride up the big hill at the end of town and down the big hill. Fast, like lightning. When the sun set, my grandmother would call me in. “Charlie, it’s getting dark outside. Time to come in for the night,” she’d say. I’d always whine and beg for just five more minutes. But five minutes turned into ten, and then twenty, and eventually I wasn’t allowed those extra minutes anymore.

I’d park the bike out in front of the apartment. Flip down the little kick stand and set it there until morning when I could ride it again.

I think my grandmother regretted giving me that bike because I never did anything else but ride it. For sun up to sun down, only staying inside on rainy days. I’d watch my bike from the window. Safe and dry, I sat watching as my precious little bike was pelted and harassed by the wicked raindrops falling from the sky. So desperately I had wanted to ride my bike out in the rain, but I was never allowed.

In the winter, I always had to stock the bike inside the apartment. Placed carefully inside the deep corners of the hall closet. There it resided for the remainder of the winter, hibernating from the frigid air. So desperately I had wanted to ride my bike out in the snow, but again, I was never allowed.

The first day of spring was always one of the greatest days of the year. It was the day my grandmother would fetch my bike out from inside the closet, dust off the dirty spider webs, and let me go outside for a ride.

I would sit on the seat, ring the bell, and take off. Waving goodbye to my grandmother as I rode down the street. A temporary goodbye as I would be back soon. That first day of spring was always an adventure, each year bringing more and more memories of my prized possession. But as quickly as the thrill of each adventure arrived, it vanished along with my years. At eight I had explored my yard. At nine, I had explored my street. At ten, I had explored my block. And by eleven, I had explored my town. Such an exhilarating feeling exploring somewhere new. But by twelve the feeling disappeared. It drifted away as I grew. And by twelve I no longer wanted to explore any farther. I’d stay at the edge of town. By thirteen, I didn’t want to explore my town. I’d stay in my block. At fourteen, I gave up on exploring the block, and remained on the street. And by fifteen, I gave up on exploring at all. I stayed in the yard and stared at the bike that contained so many memories. I no longer felt the desire to ride it any further.

At fifteen, I remember slashing the tires. I remember ripping off all of the stickers that I had so carefully placed when I was eight. I had picked up my bike, and thrown it in with the pile of trash at the back of the house. No longer had my grandmother needed to call me in. No longer did I spend hours riding the bike I had so dearly adored.

It wasn’t because I had hated the bike. It was because I had moved on. I had moved on past those days. The bike was now just a floating memory in my brain, one that was short lived. I no longer desired it in the ways I had when I was younger. Time changes everything.

And as I gaze upon Caleb now, I think that’s the reason I did it. That’s the reason I cheated on Caleb with Noah. Our relationship had escaped those early days when everything was new and exciting. Those good morning texts and late night car rides no longer meant what they had used to. Those goodbye kisses didn’t have the same taste as they did the first time I had kissed him. Everything in our relationship had become mundane. Just a constant blur. Nothing but gray images and gray feelings.

And looking back on it all now, I realized how much of him I had taken for granted. Everything that I had admired at the beginning of our relationship had suddenly started to irritate me. His church, his schoolwork, his lifestyle all had seemed so envious at the beginning. But as I got to know him, I became uninterested, bothered even. And it’s so sad to see how everything that had meant something to him because lost and unwanted over time in my mind. How unappreciative I had been.

But then I saw him at church the one day. I had saw the fire in his eyes, and the passion with which he sang. I saw the spark that I once saw in him that had faded away to nothing but a trail of smoke. I had wanted him again, just as I do now.

Maybe it’s the idea of wanting something that you can’t have that drives people to crave it even more. Hoping and praying, but facing the harsh reality that it will never come true. In this moment, I feared that with Caleb. I feared that he wouldn’t forgive me for the unthinkable thing that I had done. That I wouldn’t ever hear him say those three little words ever again. I can still hear them now whispering melodiously in my eardrums, I love you.

I had never given Caleb the proper chance he deserved. Yes, I loved him, but I didn’t realize that until it was too late. I had played with his emotions unknowingly. I had punctured his heart long before I had slept with Noah. Hell, every moment I chose with Noah over him had been another cut carving into his skin. It’s like I had held the blade up to him and cut him so deeply that not even stitches could heal the wound. It was there, permanent. A scar. A beautiful etching on his skin reminding him of the pain I had caused. Reminding him that he could never look at his skin the way he had before. It would never be the same, and it’s so very sad to realize these cuts and these scars were formed before I we had ever broken up. Before I had ever cheated on him. And it pains me now knowing I had been the one pricking at him all along.

Yet, I still hoped. That one day, he would forgive me. That his wounds and punctured soul would heal. That he could look at those scars and remember not what I had done, but what I had tried so very hard to heal. That’s what I needed to do now. I needed to heal him. Heal him from the pain I had so deeply caused. I needed to fix what I had done. What I had been doing all along. Unintentionally. But, nonetheless, it was still done.

“Hey,” I whispered, gazing upon his faded eyes. He stood on crutches, a white cast molded over his left leg. He stared back at me, silent. I bit the inside of my cheek and licked my lips. “You can sit down if you’d like,” I said gently as not to push him any farther than he wanted.

I thought about the day I had brought him to the beach. How I deliberately brought him bottles of beer. How I had opened it and handed it to him. How I practically forced the alcohol down his throat. I never even asked him if he wanted it. How selfish was I?

Caleb crutched over from the door and sat down, setting his crutches beside the chair. Inches apart we sat, closer than we had been since the accident. His eyes were dull and circles resided under his eyes. Dark circles like he had been up all night worrying. And he probably had been.

“Caleb,” I said softly as though not to startle him. “I really messed up.” He stared at me for a long time. Again no words were said. A wave of silence flooding the room. Drowning me in my overcrowded, unwanted thoughts. “I know I have hurt you over and over again, and there is nothing I can do to make it up to you,” I said slowly. I was genuine. I had deflated him with my lies and uncertainties many times before, but not this time. Not now. This was the whole hearted truth. “I truly am sorry,” I whispered, hoping he would say something. Anything.

He cleared his throat and scratched at his jawline. He was thinking, but I couldn’t wait.

“Please,” I begged. “Say something.” His eyes narrowed as he leaned all the way back in the chair. His hand tapped at his thigh as though he was anxious about something. Finally, he spoke.

“What you did, Charlie, is unforgivable,” he said crossly. I nodded. He was right. It was unforgivable. I had cheated on him. I had committed the most sickening immorality that a person can do to someone they love.

“I know,” I whispered. I shook my head. Despite what he was thinking, whether he thought I was lying or not, I really did know how wrong it was. I regretted it all and I’m not sure there is anything I could possibly say to convince him that I know I did wrong. “But you’ve got to believe me, Caleb. I really do love you.”

Those words floated around the air for a minute while he thought about what to say. I know it wasn’t the right time or the right place, but he needed to know. And even if he didn’t believe in me, I had to try.

“I really loved you, Charlie.” He shifted in his chair uncomfortably and looked away. “Still do,” he whispered.

I reached over and grabbed my purse from off the table beside me. I rummaged through it finding the cross Caleb had given me the first time we met. I set my purse back down and held the piece of metal in my fingers. “I kept this,” I said, reaching over and placing it in his hand. He examined the cross in his fingertips, tracing his initials on the back.

“You kept this all this time?” he asked surprised. I nodded, smiling at him. He smiled back. I missed that smile. His perfectly aligned teeth, crystal white. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him smile. “Why?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I responded softly. “I guess I always just wanted to believe in something.” He nodded, reaching over to place it in my hand again, but I stopped him.

“You keep it,” I said. “It’s yours.” He shook his head at me.

“I gave it to you,” he said tenderly. “I want you to have it.” He took my hand and placed the cross in my palm. He closed my fingertips of the cross and then released. His touch, just that gentle, meaningless touch, meant so much more than he could ever understand.

I knew it wasn’t going to be easy trying to win back Caleb, but this was a start. At least he knew I had kept the cross all of this time. That had to say something about how I felt about him.

“So what happened with your arm?” he asked somberly. He knew. It wasn’t any secret that I had sliced my arm up with a blade. That wasn’t what he wanted to know. He wanted to know the backstory. The reason behind it all.

“I was afraid,” I whispered, looking down at the bandages that covered my arm from wrist to bicep.

“Afraid of what?” I looked at him. At his drowsy eyes. His beautiful chestnut shaded eyes. The ones I so dearly treasured.

“Afraid of you,” I whispered.

“Afraid of me?” he asked confused. I sighed. It sounded foolish now. For me to cut up my entire arm based on thoughts roaming through my head, but at the time it was the only thing I could do. It was the only way I could have a sense of control.

“I was afraid of how you’d react. I was afraid that you would never forgive me for what I had done.” I don’t know why I had said it, but I did. At least it was the truth. He looked down at the ground, his hands folded together. I watched as he shook his head.

“Charlie,” he started. “I love you. I think I always will,” he said. “But I’m going to need some time to think through everything.” I nodded understanding. He had a right to think things through. Honestly, that was more than I had expected from him. More than I deserved.

Just then, Dr. Templeton and the first nurse I had spoken to walked through the door.

“How are you feeling?” asked the doctor.

“Better,” I said smiling at him and glancing towards Caleb. He smiled back a soft smile. It was somewhere past angry but not yet forgiving.

“Good, then we’re releasing you,” he said. “As long as you promise not to do this again.” I let out a small chuckle. As long as these thoughts didn’t torture my mind, I wouldn’t have any need to carve myself up again.

“I promise,” I stated, standing up and gathering my belongings. I helped Caleb out of the chair and handed him his crutches. His parents were waiting outside, I had presumed, so I helped him out of the room and down the corridor. He insisted that he could do himself, and I backed off respecting his wishes.

If I wanted him back, I needed to respect him. I needed to treat him like I valued him. Not like some pawn in a game of chess that hardly mattered.

“Hey you two,” said Mrs. Kepner once we reached the couple sitting on a couch in the waiting room. “How are you guys feeling?” she asked brushing hair out of Caleb’s face. He seemed embarrassed, but that’s what mothers do. They baby their children until they’ve grown up and moved out. And even then, they never stop. A mother’s love is undeniable. Something, I had never experienced. Never known.

“We’re okay,” Caleb said, glancing over at me.

“Are you both ready to go home?” asked Mr. Kepner.

“Yes please,” Caleb responded. I watched his face light up. How much he must’ve been dying to go home. To be with his family instead of stuck inside this godforsaken place.

“And you?” asked Mr. Kepner, glancing over at me. I nodded. For the first time in a long time, I was looking forward to going back to their home.

Reviews

[Christopher Miller]

Did she have the same bike from age 8 to 15? Did she not grow in that period? As her scope of exploration narrowed, I was thinking it was a manifestation of agorophobia or her depression. That she had moved on works, I like the line that time changes everything. Indeed we all have different pursuits during different stages of our life. But why doesn't she look back fondly on the bike, even if she's moved on? Why does she feel the need to slash the tires and throw it out, rather than keep it for memories or let some other little girl have it? Her actions say that she feels trapped by the bike, by her past, in some capacity. How so? Was kissing Noah meant to be a parallel, was that how she slashed Caleb's tires? Will she look back and think maybe she shouldn't have destroyed the bike?
It's a worthy metaphor, I like it. It deserves some fleshing out.

[Sarah]

Good interpretation, thank you. I'm still working out the logistics of everything so bear with me on that one! :)

[Rebecca]

the bike flashback was interesting. could be expanded. Im suprised Caleb cant forgive her, seeing as he's christian.

[Lorry]

The opening of this chapter made me smile, as I remember my own "Oh please! five more minutes" pleas to my parents, who just wanted some peace after looking after the five of us all day. I'm actually amazed they made it through my childhood sane, with all the scrapes and accidents I had.
I've noticed that about your writing, that there is always relatable themes running through your story, where the reader feels the connections spoken of, as they share a common connection of having done similar and identifying with the characters more due to that.
You also make a very good point on our explorations as kids and how they just seem to become less and less, as the years bring us more things to worry about. It is such a pity that we use that adventurous spirit less and less as we grow.
Maybe fate decides when it is the right time for two people to align and see the others perspective. Maybe the two of them should be thankful that they have came through everything and have been given another chance to respect the others point of view too. Maybe, maybe maybe...guess we'll find out soon enough :)
Really liked this chapter, very reflective and it starts Charlie and Caleb back on the path of where they should be, no matter how long the journey will be.

[Mifa]

On to the next one. Great work Sarah. Great work.