Ready or Not

Chapter 1

With the cool breeze blowing through your hair, and the sun shining on your shoulders, you lift up your chin to look up at the trees lining the road. You think, "Gosh, I love this time of year. All the leaves are changing their colors and the weather is finally starting to cool down. No more heat or humidity." After leaving your first graduate course in bioengineering, you decide to take a ride on your bike in the park before you head back to your apartment. That was your last class for the day. Unlike most other days, this afternoon, you don't have to rush to work. So, you have the time to enjoy the leaves turning and some fresh and crisp air.

You've been riding down a bike path that is covered by a natural canopy of trees like Dogwood, Oak, Hickory, Aspen, and Sourwood, which at this time of the year, turn all shades of red, yellow, orange, and brown. This is your absolute favorite time of the year. You've always preferred the cooler weather to the hot and humid kind. You must have been riding for about fifteen minutes or so, when you suddenly hear a frantic ringing of bicycle bell and someone shouting, "Oh, no. Watch out!" Before you can locate where the voice is coming from, never mind react to the warning to watch out, you are T-boned from your left by another bicycle. You and your bike are thrown off the bike path and into the pile of technicolored leaves.

Breaking the fall with your left hand, you sit up and look at the palm to assess the damage. It is scraped up pretty badly and is now bleeding. You get your bike off of your leg and get back on your feet. When you look down at your pants, you notice that your jeans now have a big tear on the right knee, and you can see the flesh underneath is scraped and bleeding. As you stand up from the ground, you dust yourself off with your left hand. You say, "Oh, great. Now I'm covered in dirt and bleeding." You also see that the frame of your front wheel is bent, so much so that your bike is no longer road worthy.

As you are assessing the damage to your bicycle and to your body, you hear the same voice that warned you to watch out a minute ago, running up to you and exclaim, "Oh my God! I'm so sorry. I lost control of my bike trying to maneuver around a tortoise on the road. Jesus, are you okay? OH NO! you are bleeding. I'm so sorry. How can I help? Should I call 911?"

When you look up from your wounds and your damaged bike, you see a tall young man looking pretty distraught. He is holding your arm with one hand and the other hand is on the small of your back. He has dark hair, that is a bit longish around the edges, high cheek bones and a pair of kind, but intense eyes. He is quite striking, and a thought of a gentle giant comes to your mind. When you try and step away from the stranger's grasp, the young man realizes that his hands are on a woman that he is not acquainted with and without her permission, no less. He immediately pulls his hands off of you and takes a couple of steps away from you. "I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for crashing into you and sorry for my hands..."

You say, "It's alright. No need to call the ambulance and don't worry about this," gesturing to your injuries. You continue, "It's just a flesh wound." What you said reminds you of a Monty Python skit and makes you chortle briefly to yourself. Then you ask, "Are you okay?" and look up to see a brief grin flash across his face. You wonder, "Did he catch the Monty Python bit?"

The young man rubs the back of his neck and says, "Yes. I'm fine, but you are injured. Oh, and your poor bike. I'm so sorry. I'll make sure to get your bike repaired."

When you try and take a step towards your now defunct bicycle, you let out a cry and stumble from the pain in your knee. Watching you stumble and cry in pain, the young man rushes to your side offering aid. He says, "Listen, I don't think you are in any condition to walk. Will you at least let me call the campus police to give you a ride back to wherever you are going?"

You say, "Okay. That's probably a good idea. Thank you."

He pulls out his cellphone from the pocket of his jeans and dials the campus police. He tells them briefly what happened to you and asks for assistance. After a quick exchange, he hangs up the phone and turns back to you. He says, "They are on their way. Unfortunately, because their cruiser can't drive on the bike path, what you are going to get, most likely, is a golf cart," and gives you a sheepish smile, as he looks down at his feet.