The Minutes We Have

chapter fifteen

I had never ridden a motorcycle.

Ezra had offered to take me out and I wouldn't even dream of saying no. That was last night, and now I stood in the driveway with clenching fists. My nerves were going crazy.

Ezra had surprised me this morning, waking me up, when usually it was the other way around. He said the mornings were the best times to ride. The sun had just risen an hour ago, and the air still had a cool feel to it.

I didn't feel cold though because Ezra had given me a thick, leather jacket, explaining that it would protect me. Just in case.

He handed me a helmet and I nervously glanced down at it. He must have read my expression, and paused. "What?" He asked.

"I've never..." I trailed off, and then swallowed, "You have to tell me what to do."

At this, he chuckled. "You worry too much," He pushed the side of my head in a playful manner, "Put your helmet on, stupid."

"Alright, alright," I conceded. I undid the straps and pulled the helmet over my head. While I was adjusting it, he did the same. Then, he swung his leg over the motorcycle and kicked up the stand with his heel.

For a second, I just took in the sight. He was quite literally living his dreams, at long last. He was finishing his medical degree, he had a motorcycle, and he had his own living space. Not that he hated being home, but sometimes people needed room to spread their wings.

I realized he was waiting on me, and quickly shook away my thoughts. I stepped towards the sleek, black motorcycle and copied his actions. I swung my leg over the back and found myself grabbing his shoulders to keep from falling off.

For a moment, I felt unstable. I was worried the motorcycle would tip over but when I kept ahold of Ezra, and he kept the motorcycle balanced,  I told myself that I was okay.

He started the motorcycle and it came to life with a roar. I felt the vibrations of the engine all the way into the seat of it and tingles of fearful excitement raced up my spine. My arms automatically cinched around his waist because if I was going to fall, so was he.

Sibling code, you know?

We rolled out of the driveway and for the first couple minutes of the ride, I was afraid to open my eyes. I was even holding my breath. Then, eventually, I grew brave enough to look around. He had went slow and then he must have felt me relax because he sped up some.

I still had my arms bound around his waist, tight enough that I could feel him breathing, but he didn't scold me. Never protested my actions. He just let me do my thing, and I think I appreciated that the most.

Ezra had always had a quick temper, and he often acted before thinking, though now it seemed we saw the real him. A man without stormy vision. A brother without an angry heart. He was healing, and it was evident in the smallest actions because even that was enormous for him.

I let the cheek of my helmet fall against his back as I turned my head and gazed off to the right. Vivid, green scenery breezed by in a swirl of artistry. I could feel the wind fiddling with my clothes and pulling at my hair as we sailed along, the purr of the motorcycle increasing the relaxation of my muscles.

I imagined this is what flying felt like.

Freedom, as rich as the earth, as sweet as delicate pastries, and as light as a feather. If only I could outstretched my hand and feel the clouds, like a feather skimming air currents.

Suddenly, the forest vanished and I raided my head slightly to take in the view of a vast lake. The roadway curved right along the edge, close enough I feared if it rained the lake would flood us. Only the guard-rail separated us from the water.