Take off your hat, I want to stand up.

Chapter 45: What Curb?

Chapter 45: What Curb?

Watch out for the curb, Ev! What?

On our drive I invited Ev to listen to stories I recalled as we passed by an area that held some significance in our lives. I always tried to do this type of story telling to connect with my mom in a current and positive manner. She was crippled,  but she still held onto her charming personality.

While driving slowly by Albert Street and Hill Avenue I related a time, before her accident when she rode her bike over to my house. She was not a normally practised bike rider. When she knocked on my door and said, lets go for a bike ride I thought it would be short.

I did not have a bike at home. We went back to her house, four or five kilometres away. We packed her bike into my car and drove it over to her house on Empress. I had my old bike sitting in the backyard, it had two flat tires and squeaked like your old grannies rocking chair, I laid some WD40 in all the moving parts and walked it up to the Shell station to put air in the tires. Once pumped up we were good to go.

We rode passed my old high school Martin Collegiate, down the old drag strip where the boys would try to take the rubber off of their daddies car. I wanted to steer clear of any busy streets as we were oldies on bikes we had not ridden for a time. It is funny that the skills we learned as youths do come back to you. Once fear is over come and you get used to the rhythm of pedalling, the bike was a pleasant diversion.

We crossed the tracks on Pasqua Street, sailed by the old house, and down the tree lined block of Victoria Avenue to Elphinstone Street. My dad's retail drug store was on the corner of 13 th and Elphinstone, now Ev owned it outright. It was a bike ride and a property check all at the same time, a trip down memory lane. We pedalled hard to gain the hill at Regina Avenue gilded by Kinsman Park and lazily set a calm pace down the quiet streets in the old Lakeview neighbourhood by the Legislative ground. We loved the Legislative grounds as they were manicured with a high level of gardening excellence.

She called out, let's go to the legislative drive and cycle by the lake. This was a good idea, it would have less traffic and the speed limit was low. The problem, as I saw it was Ev was leading the way, she was three or four bike lengths in front of me, happily pedalling down the centre of the street.

Too late, I should have known better, but it was too late. I called to her to turn left at the next corner. We would be able to walk the bikes. There was a controlled intersection with lights and more important a pedestrian crosswalk. She sailed right by the turn, she did not even slow down, what? she hailed back, what did you say?

I said we should try to turn left to catch the lights. She heard me now. Still pedalling she tried to execute a left turn, she made it exactly halfway when she ran out of rode. There in her crosshairs was the cement curb, still pedalling she picked up speed. She called back, you should have told me sooner. Her bike hit the curb, the front tire pinged against the cement at a direct angle. When the tire hit, the bike stopped. Suddenly, Ev pirouetted over the handle bars in a gymnastic move reminiscent of the Olympic Games where young Nadia won gold for Russia. She tucked, her hands remained on the handle bars. The platinum streamers flapped and fluttered at the abrupt stop. Her back wheel danced high into the air, something like a kicking mule, she went up, up, up, and then down.

I witnessed the slow-motion ballet with incredible awareness. I would need to call an ambulance. Who did I know in the area was a doctor? My friends mom was a nurse, where did she live? I stopped ready to run to her aid. She slammed over the sidewalk and did a perfect Judo style break fall, Ipon, which is a full point in a Judo dojo. Ipon Ev , I called out.

She rose dusted herself off gave me a what the heck were you saying look, picked the bike up, climbed aboard, got out a smoke, light it, took a big pull and said let's go. This women was amazing. She did not even mention it again, until now when we were driving by Hill Avenue, it made me choke up with tears, I looked over she was welling up, give me a smoke and light me up, would you Jackie?

We drove on. After a time she said, we better be getting back to the rehab centre they change shifts in twenty minutes and I do not want to stay in this wheel chair too long it is hard on my back. I said I thought you could not feel anything, she corrected me, she said she could feel good enough to know she was tired. We drove back, parked the van. This time she let me race her down the aisle by controlling the joy stick on the electric wheel chair.

I always wanted to end a visit with a kiss and a hug. She countered and said it made her muscles twitch uncontrollably. It was a cruel irony of sorts that she would have muscle spasms after she was hugged or embraced. I just kissed her on the forehead, bye mommy, I will see you soon.

Thanks dear, she called.

We parted. I always hated leaving. Almost as much as I did not like going. Why? Was always the question, there was never an answer, it just was; what it was.

Once Ev knew the extent of her injuries and the prognosis did not appear to be beneficial, she put on her fighting face. I will walk again, she declared, I just will.

She tried and tried, but never did