I have something to share. You might dismiss this as something which is culled from some novel or some scenes from a movie. That is highly probable since we often hear people talk about how destiny set them apart or how it brought them together. The joy of being alive is having to partake in this unpredictable journey and experience the same thing that most people do and end with the same conclusion that most people have. As much as i want to present an original one for your reading pleasure, i can only do so much for i too, believe that it was fate that brought us together.
Bikes were the coolest toys for boys during those days. When my bestfriend finally had his bike which was silver and mine was red, we rode together side by side on the rough road around the silent neighborhood. I can't exactly remember how young we were that time but i am damn certain it was the time we had crushes, pimples from here and there, hair alarmingly starting to grow... in short, puberty. We were idly paddling that gloomy afternoon when suddenly a group of girls came out from nowhere and started yelling, "Hey you! Who's that with you?!" The tomboy who appeared to be the leader of the pack called out my friend. Apparently she was referring to me. I was starting to think perhaps i did something wrong when suddenly a smile emanated on her lips showing her two newly acquired permanent front teeth and said, "my friend here likes him." And then she turned back and teased her already embarassed comrade, which was not bad looking anyway. My friend just sneered and i, feeling awkward, proceeded to trek the remaining yards towards home.
I learned that very day that she was the niece of the old man who sells really delicious rice puddings on the side of the highway. Besides from her being boisterous, i thought she wasn't so bad too. She had these elegant brown eyes that if you look from a distance, it was as if welling up with tears . Her skin looked yellow probably from too much playing under the sun or perhaps it was the color of sunset. She had her light brown wavy hair ponytailed, probably to make her appear more macho. Her freckles were very much visible when light touches her face. Her lips reddish, probably from too much talking. There was something going on with her, so i thought. Something which is definitely worth taking a second look.
Day after day, my friend and I pursued the same path. And nosy girl that she was, she never missed to tease her poor old friend to me which I deliberately brushed aside by merely giving her a shy smile from time to time. Until one day, she stopped. I was puzzled.
She stopped reading for a moment. She got an inkling as to why she stopped teasing him. She took the time to browse through the words again as to how the writer described her. She thought that it was funny yet a little bit exaggerated but somehow, she's prompted to agree with him. He seems to remember it all as if it only happened yesterday. She set aside her protest with a smile and continued reading...
In my exasperation, i blurted out to my friend that I was beginning to like the girl. While we were biking the following day, we saw her playing with her gang with water cannons. She took a shot at my friend and my silly friend, taking it as an opportunity for revenge, shouted at the top of his lungs that I got a crush on her. Her magnificent brown eyes widened upon hearing it. She hurled back with all her might by teasing her poor old friend to me. I heaved a sigh out of dismay while I paddled away in silence leaving the two engaged in a teasing war which sounded more like World War II all over again. It became a routine of the two from that day forward. Her friend liking me and me liking her. It was like watching a re-run of a war movie that everyone can't seem to get enough of.
And just when I thought that I am going to be trapped for eternity in this child's play, i learned that her family moved out and settled some place else one day. I hardly knew her but i liked her... liked her so much that despite years of her absence, i kept asking my friend if he received any news of her whereabouts. I tried to look for signs of movements inside her abandoned house but to no avail. The corner of the rough road where they used to play fell dead silent for so many years. In my heart, I haven't given up hoping that she'll come back until we were already too old and heavy to ride our already worn out bikes. Before i head out for the city to study, i took one last glimpse of my bike. It was rusting and broken, piled up in a dark storage like a corpse. I grimaced as i gently close the door. I silently bid goodbye to the bike and to her.
She felt sorry for having to leave that time. The decision was not hers to make. She wondered if it would have been better off if she stayed. However, it is pointless to think about it now...
Although i spent most of my time in the city for over a decade, i made sure to pay a visit to our home town once in a while. I bear witness as changes started to engulf our home town. The once dusty rough road is now partly cemented, probably a political strategy to entice the remaining half of the residents in the subdivision to vote for the incumbent authority. More houses were built, new faces i hardly know. The kids that used to play butt naked on the side of the road are now a bunch of professionals making a living for their respective families. This thought brought to my mind my bestfriend. I wondered if he finally got married. So, i decided to pay him a visit during one of my holiday vacation. Memories poured in as me and my friend talked about our childhood memories. When silence fell between us, i tried to shove off the awkward moment by asking about the girl with light brown eyes who used to tease us when we were out riding our bikes. I can't help but shook my head in disbelief that she was back and that my silly friend was trying to woe her. I smiled when he told me it was a futile attempt.
Fortunately, he did not hesitate when i asked him to formally introduce me to her. She acceded to my friend's request to meet me. The girl's house was a few blocks away from my home. While we were approaching the threshold to their house, we were met by a girl. I wondered if it was her. I searched for any familiar signs of the girl i know from way back childhood. I don't seem to recall this one, i thought. This one's taller, got a perfect set of teeth, smooth straight hair with highlights of light brown color, a bloody red lips and a skin as white as snow. Although the one that stood in front of us was a beautiful sight, my mind wandered to the place where the girl i used to know was. It wasn't her, i thought. I was about to ask my friend who she was when suddenly our our eyes met. It was the same eyes who captivated me for so many years, the set of eyes who'd sent me to dream land every midday after eating lunch, the eyes which seems to overflow ith tears from a distance, the very same eyes who motivates me to endure the heat of the sun just to see it set in my direction. Realizing that i'm finally standing face to face with her, my world stopped momentarily. And from that moment, i finally quit paddling my old red bicycle.
And that is my story. It may not be the greatest story ever told, you may even say it's cheesy. However, the sole purpose of me putting this in writing springs forth from my desire to tell the lonely hearts out there that wherever you maybe, whatever your circumstances are, your very own story unfolds by itself as long as you don't stop paddling your very own red bike. The destination may be obscure at times but this is just something which makes the journey a little bit more exciting.
She smiled as she gently laid down the manuscript. She eyed the time on the clock placed on the office table. She took a piece of paper and scribbled a message which she gently pasted on the computer screen. The note reads: Honey, I enjoyed reading your work. I have to leave for a while to pick up our daughter in school. I'm sure she'd love to hear it before she goes to bed tonight. Love, that girl with elegant brown eyes wearing a pony tail to appear more macho.
