A Southern Summer

2. My First Ride

I woke up around sunrise, although not voluntarily, to the sound of roosters outside. Although
technically a farmhouse, this cabin is only rented by my aunt. An add on to the nearby farmer's
land at the end of West Lake Road. Now isn't that just the most small town road name ever
created?

I was afraid to go downstairs just yet as this was only my first morning being there. My unhomely
feelings were made even more obvious by the fact that I hadn't even changed into my pajamas
before crashing into bed, after making my grand entrance the evening before.

While my stomach rumbled and my bones ached with the desperate plea for coffee, I
focused on unpacking out of fear of going downstairs. Finally a delicious scent floated my way, and when my stomach couldn't take the tantalizing smell anymore I decided to creep downstairs to see what was for breakfast.

I thought I was sneaky until I realized that my room was directly above the kitchen... and these
floorboards creak. I sheepishly continued down the stairs, prepared to be ambushed with
questions as to why I'm so shy. Instead I was greeted with a plate of chocolate chip pancakes.

"Good morning Maxine, your mom told me these are your favorites!" Aunt Fern said with a
smile, still focused on fixing her plate. As I sat down I noticed a radio was playing softly as well.
The background noise being very welcome compared to the otherwise cripplingly awkward
silence.

"Yes, thank you!" I responded, gladly digging into the fluffy warm stack of deliciousness
placed in front of me. The gooey chocolate chips melted in my mouth, making my taste buds soar.

"Alright Maxine," Fern said as she walked towards the table, "now I know my house is
different from yours, but here we thank the Lord for our food before we eat." She explained. I
was instantly annoyed. Not because I didn't believe, per se.. mostly because I had already
devoured half my plate so I didn't see a point.

"Sorry..." I said through a mouthful of pancakes. Then I waited impatiently for her to do her
thing so I could continue with my meal.

She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and said, "Thank you for your love, thank you for your
graces. Please bless this food as we feed our faces. Amen." To my delight it was short, sweet,
and kind of funny. So I went right on with my meal, realizing that was probably the first prayer I'd been apart of since the last time my parents took me to Sunday school when I was eight. I always liked it, and it did make me feel closer to God, but I guess as my parents got busy with their jobs church became less of a priority for us.

As I got up to put my plate in the sink Aunt Fern said, "I've got something to show you..."
When I had rinsed my plate, I followed Aunt Fern out the front door to the carport where her car was parked. Beside her trusty set of wheels (a white 1990 Dodge Ram 150), was something shiny and blue.

"It's nothing like the fancy transportation y'all have in the city, but it'll get you where you need to go... within town at least." She explained, pulling out a 10 speed bike. My first taste of freedom since I had gotten there. I can technically drive already, but with Chicago's public transportation I never needed to, and I hadn't ridden a bike since I was ten, so I was very excited about this gift.

"Thank you very much!" I exclaimed, the sight of the bike already making me feel freer than the city could. There it was always 'stranger danger' this and 'self-defense' that. But I was still worried that small town living would turn out to be too much less engaging, hopefully this two-wheeled beauty would help with that.

"Yeah, I just figured it would be a little bland around this farm without a way to get around. Anyways, I better head out before I'm late for my shift at Linda's Coffee Shop. I'll be back around three, help yourself to anything in the kitchen and make yourself at home!" And with that, she got into her truck and drove off while I waved coolly from the driveway.

When my Aunt Fern had moved down here for business it was completely her choice, she came to take her art career out of the city. That took her right to teaching art at the local elementary school, it was during summer vacation that she picked up a part time job at the coffee shop and spent more time on the art of her own. But as far as I could tell, she had really grown to enjoy helping the small town rugrats express themselves through mismatched colors and uneven shapes.

Wanting to get more of a feel for the town, I decided to take my new wheels out for a spin. At first I was glad that the cabin isn't in the middle of town, because trying to ride a bike after seven years of no practice is a little embarrassing. After about five minutes I got the hang of it though, and decided to take my skills out on the town.

The first thing I saw as I cruised down West Lake Road (well after some trees and a field) was... a lake. Then, not much further down the road, another lake. At least I knew there would be reliable places to cool off after the summer heat had crept into town. But the third thing I saw was less promising, as I rode past an easily overlooked tennis court, there were some boys who looked about my age, beating up another who looked a little younger. By the time I thought to go stop them, they had seen me and ran away. The younger boy laid there with a black eye and blood on his face, so I went to go help him.