DIRT BIKE
VILE SELF PORTRAITS, CHAPTER THREE
Dr. Jolly held a substantial syringe containing a clear liquid.
"You’ll just feel a pinch, that’s all. Then you’ll get sleepy, and it’s okay if you fall asleep, I’ll still fix you up, Scout’s honor." He saluted me with a serene smile. "Just a pinch," he assuaged with the spike angled at my inner right arm.
I gripped my father’s hand.
A pinch.
Then came an impossible warmth.
I released my father.
My mother rubbed my shoulders.
Pins and needles.
"You don’t have to watch, Joseph. You can look away if you want," Dr. Jolly said, readying his suture kit and positioning a light over my left leg. I peeked and shuddered. "I’m going to start now, Joseph. Let me know if you feel any discomfort. You shouldn’t feel a thing, so don’t worry. I’ll be very gentle." Another smile. His teeth were appallingly white. I wondered what a man like him ate. Maybe chalk.
"I remember the horses," I blurted, staring at my mother with distant eyes.
"The horses? Whadaya talkin’ about, Joe?" She laughed and hit my father’s arm.
"In… when we went to New… New Hampshire… for vacation…"
"Oh ya, Joe? What about the horseys?" They giggled.
"They… they smelled like shit!" I said, laughing with them, replaying my equestrian memories. I had forgotten about my leg. I looked down. Dr. Jolly was sewing it together like cloth. It didn’t look like my leg. It didn’t feel like my leg.
The foot peg pierced.
It was a yellow Suzuki two-stroke. He came over the hill so fast. I had no time to react. Sideways in the center of the trail. Too frail to move my piddling blue Yamaha four-stroke. I heard Rob’s bike shriek as I peeled my helmet off, leaned against a tree, and slid to the soil. A circle of blood stained the left leg of my cargo pants. The guy on the Suzuki gave me a bottle of water. Then disappeared. I begged Rob not to tell Dad. I didn’t want to lose my bike. I wanted to be cool.
Like my brother.
"We’ll get Micky D’s aftah, my treat, Joey," my father said with his pseudo-smile.
Every smile shades a lie.
I started to nod off.
"Almost done, Joe. You’re doing great."
Dr. Jolly was impressed.
I was doing great.
Paperback/ebook here.
VILE SELF PORTRAITS© AS AN ALTERNATIVE TO DRUG ADDICTION