Part 2
There wasn’t a sound from any of the fifty
girls—from the youngest to the oldest—as Geoff helped Jenny onto his bicycle
and Joseph boosted me up.
Once aboard, I looked down. Nope, this contraption
wasn’t any taller than one of the Circle C’s larger working horses.
Easy as pie,
I told myself and smiled at Jenny. “Won’t this be fun?”
Now that Jenny was on the bicycle, she didn’t look
quite as confident. But then, she wasn’t used to being on the back of a tall
horse. But she was used to climbing high, high trees.
And that was sort of the same.
I gripped the handlebar with both hands. I didn’t
even have to lean over very far.
Joseph gave us a few instructions. “Geoff and I will
push you off. The important thing is to keep your balance. You do that by
pedaling.” He paused. “If you slow down too much, you’ll topple over. So, keep
your hands on the bars and keep your feet on the pedals.”
“Turn the bars and lean a little in the direction
you want to turn,” Geoff added with a grin. “And watch where you’re going.”
Jenny and I nodded our understanding.
I pushed my bothersome skirt down, not caring that
part of my stockings showed below the hem. I placed my feet firmly on the
pedals. They were a little like stirrups, and I knew the importance of keeping
my feet in the stirrups.
I was already comparing this bicycle to a
horse.
“Ready?” Joseph asked.
I nodded.
“Set . . .
go.” He pushed the bicycle, and I was on my way.
From the second Joseph let go, I forgot about Jenny.
I forgot about Miss Whitaker maybe showing up. I forgot about Florence, who
would love to see me take a spill.
All I could think about was how fast this
contraption could move. I didn’t want to topple over, so I took Joseph’s words
to heart. How slow was too slow? I started pedaling faster and faster, worried
that I might stall and tip over.
I heard a screech, a shriek, and a scraping noise, then a loud,
metal bang. Had Jenny fallen over? I didn’t look behind my shoulder. I
had to pay attention to what I was doing.
My fingers gripped the handlebar so tightly that my
knuckles turned white. The wind whipped my hair behind me. My skirt blew to the
sides. My feet kept pedaling and pedaling.
I tried a little turn, and the bicycle obeyed as
easy as Taffy responded to the reins.
Not bad,
I thought.
Then somebody was yelling. “Come back! Come back!”
Just when I was getting the hang of this, I had to
go back?
Well, after all, this wasn’t my bicycle, so I
decided I would try a complete turn and pedal back. What a fun contraption!
That is when I made a terrifying discovery. I had
traveled too far down the street. Nob Hill is a hill. A steep hill. Miss
Whitaker’s Academy sits on a small, level portion of the hill. But it doesn’t
take long for the street to begin its long, steep descent.
I remembered one crucial bit of instruction that
neither Joseph nor Geoff had offered. How did a person stop this thing? Pulling
back on the reins stopped a horse, and a wagon had a brake lever. Even a buggy
could be stopped easily.
I looked down at my feet. No brake lever there. I
looked at the handlebars. No lever there either. “How do you stop the bicycle?”
I shouted.
But the answer, even if the boys had one, was too
far away to do me any good.
Panic welled up. The bicycle began to go faster. Faster
than my feet could pedal. I pulled them away and looked ahead.
The steepest part of Nob Hill lay just in front of
me. This street went down, down, down . . . clear to Chinatown. Maybe clear to
San Francisco Bay.
I did not want to end up in Chinatown or the
bay. Crashing into a Chinese man’s vegetables or live chickens was a very bad
idea. Drowning in the bay was worse.
Dear God,
I prayed. Show me what to do!
The answer came quick as lightening. Jump off.
 |
This is similar to what happened to me.
|
Jumping from a runaway horse was never a good idea,
but it seemed the only answer to this mechanical beast.
I swallowed, said another prayer, and jumped off. I
planned to land on my feet and then roll to a stop, but nothing went as
planned.
Everything went dark.
***
When I woke up, I found myself in bed in my room at
Miss Whitaker’s. Across the room, Jenny sat still as a statue on her bed,
staring at me.
More surprising, someone was sitting next to me on
the bed. The doctor?
For sure, I needed one. Pain stabbed me from the top
of my head all the way down to my toes. Tears stung the inside of my eyelids. I
hurt all over!
“Hey, honey, how do you feel?” Justin squeezed my
hand.
I looked up into his worried face. Where had Justin
come from? Wasn’t he in Fresno? No, wait. He’d been spending time in his law
office in San Francisco, preparing for the hearing for the little Chinese girls
Jenny and I had rescued last month.
No wonder he’d been able to come so fast.
“I’m sorry,” I managed to say between dry lips. “I
really messed up this time.”
“Oh, not so bad,” Justin said, chuckling. “It’s just
a mystery to me how you get yourself into these things.”
He paused. “A bicycle?” He shook his head.
“On cobblestone streets? It’s a miracle you ended up with only a cracked rib
and too many scrapes and bruises to count. You might have burst your head
open.”
Justin’s smile turned to a frown. “That would have
been very serious, and quite possibly fatal.”
My head felt as if it had been cracked open from top
to bottom, but if Justin said I was mending, then he must be right.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered again. “God told me to
jump, so I jumped.”
Justin was nodding. “That’s probably why your
injuries are not life-threatening. You were a little prepared for the fall. But
good grief, Andi! Falling off a bicycle in San Francisco is not the same as
being thrown from a horse onto a grassy pasture.”
I nodded, then winced. Even nodding hurt.
Jenny wandered over and gave me a lopsided grin. “I
fell off after pedaling about twelve yards. I just couldn’t the hang of it.”
She shook her head. “I’m glad I couldn’t get the hang of it and took a spill
when I wasn’t going very fast. You scared me half to death I knew the hill was
going to get steep fast.” Her eyes turned wide. “Don’t you ever scare me like
that again.”
Jenny looked like she had her share of scrapes and
bruises too. One cheek was black and blue. Clearly, her fall had not been
gentle.
“I got a bloody scrape up and down one leg,” she
mourned. “Tore my skirt too. The bicycle came down on top of me. That hurt
plenty.”
I tried not to laugh. Laughing made my chest feel
like bursting open.
Then a terrible thought crossed my mind. “How is”—I
swallowed—“how is Joseph’s bicycle?”
Justin sighed. “In better shape then you are.
Seriously, the wheel bent, and a few spokes snapped, but it’s nothing that
can’t be repaired. He was quite worried about you.”
“Even Florence was worried,” Jenny added.
“You’ll be in bed for a few more days,” Justin said.
He rose from the bed and waggled a finger at me. “I mean it, Andi. You stay in
bed. Then you may return to your classes. If you can’t promise this, then I’m
taking you home to the ranch.”
The ranch. Mother. Uh-oh.
“If I promise to stay in bed like you say, will you
promise not to tell Mother what happened? I don’t want to worry her.”
Justin nodded. “Since the doctor said your injuries
are painful but not serious, I will agree to that.” He smiled, as if that was
the plan all along.
Then he reached over to the nightstand and picked up a book. “Here's some reading material while you’re recovering,” he explained.
He dropped the book next to my pillow.
I picked it up. It was one of Warne’s Useful Books.
“The Modern Bicycle” I read, frowning at the cover illustration. A man
was riding a bicycle, with a fellow on horseback close behind. Near the front
wheel, a rabbit lay limp and mostly likely dead.
I frowned. “Whose idea was this?”
Justin chuckled. “Joseph’s. He said the book is full
of useful instructions on how to ride a bicycle. He says you need it.”
I couldn’t help it. No matter how much it hurt, I
couldn’t stop laughing.
Justin and Jenny laughed too.
THE END
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