The Man on the Motorcycle

       It was just a casual day on this tiny backroad I lived on. I jumped off the bus and waved goodbye to my best friend Cathleen. She was just a house away but our bus stops were different. I walked across the yard to my red wooden porch and took a deep breath of the crispy, fresh air. The door was left unlocked for me so I walked in and gave my parents a hug on my way to my room. I plopped my heavy black Jansport onto my tiny bed. This was my new room in my new house and It felt so small. I hurried out and closed the door behind me. Today was a beautiful day anyway. I made my way to the living room which was where the front door was. I was going to go outside and explore my new property a little bit. I walked over to the window to take a peek out. I never knew we had such a great roadside view from this window. In fact, I had almost forgotten about this window. It was small and in front of a huge wooden desk. I was finishing up my nature appreciation session when I was interrupted by a familiar sound...

VRROOOOOOMMM

       I heard the loud popping rev and knew exactly what it was. It was definitely a motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle, a Harley. My dad has always ridden his motorcycle that sounded just like this one. I was raised in a biker family, I could tell different bikes apart. As I had suspected, a glossy black Sportster came into view. I watched immersed in awe at how cool his bike was. He was approaching the road's curve in front of my house when something unexpected happened. He started wobbling, then faster than I could look away, he and his bike was smeared across the road in front of my house. I yelled out in panic for my mom. She ran over and glanced out the window, then yelled for my dad.  I could hear him quickly stomp his way towards us. My mom sat down in a chair with sheer terror on her face. My face was virtually plastered to the window, as was his. She stood up fast and ran to retrieve her cell phone. She punched a phone number into her keypad but the number didn't seem like the other ones. This number wasn't 10 numbers like all the others. It was only 3 and the other line answered immediately. I stared at her as she muttered some words inaudibly. My dad had left me alone at the window without me even realizing it. He was already outside making his way toward the road. In a matter of minutes, I heard sirens and saw blinding lights. I could see an ambulance speeding its way past the trees. Lots of people rushed out of the ambulance and ran to the man and then more cars pulled up. They were the police. The police dressed in beige hopped out of their car and started talking to my dad. I watched their conversation but for some reason, my dad seemed disappointed, or let-down. I kept watching but my mom swung in and brushed me into my room. I couldn't see the road anymore but I wanted to know if the man on the motorcycle was ok. I sat in my room regardless of what I wanted. When the whole thing was resolved my parents and I never talked about it, they went to sleep and so did I. That night was quiet, almost too quiet.
                                 
                                   ...
           The night had gone away and The light shone again. I looked at the time and started preparing myself for school. I had already forgotten about the man on the motorcycle. I walked into the kitchen and grabbed a sip of milk before saying bye and going to wait for my bus. My parents were watching TV in the living room so I started walking over there to say goodbye. I hugged them and opened the door. I was back on my red wooden porch again. The comfy rocking chair was in the same place, waiting for me as always. I sat down, but when I looked up something was out of place. I saw a giant white wooden cross staring back at me from across the road. It had flowers around it and a starch white teddy bear with it. There were only 4 black words painted on the clean white cross. "I love you, daddy."