Woodchips on the pavement

Kae was a living balancing act. The left foot just barely fitting on the thirdhand skateboard. That’s what life is. You ride with one foot on and the other ready to slam down on concrete and shave your sole off. There had rarely ever been anything other than wheels under Kae’s feet. Skates, bikes, scooters, skateboards. You name it, Kae rode it. The city air feels more fresh going at 10 mph. The roads wider. The people friendlier. Even so, the neighbors K would stop for while on the move were unaware of the very elite group they formed. Most of them got at most a passing wave. The owner of the downstairs bar, Jo, got the full works. The making of the eye contact. The slamming of the breaks. The getting off of the vehicle. The taking off of the helmet. Even the kissing of the cheeks. Jo adored Kae. Hey love, how are you darling, where you off to sweetheart were all part of the affectionate jargon they pampered each other with. Perhaps it was the nature of Jo having watched Kae grow up five doors down for the past seventeen years, or maybe it was the result of narrow streets making a myth out of personal space. Whatever the reason, Kae was always willing to give Jo the time of day. For K, Jo was proof that you don’t have to know someone’s full name to love them.

Kae knew from day one the effort it took to appear confident on a moving skateboard. Knew it from personal experience. Knew it from the novice years of letting one’s mother place an unsure foot on a brand new board and fall ass first on the busiest street in the world. Skateboarders must be some of the most self-conscious people out there. The balance, the speed, the style. The nonchalance of it all. That’s what makes falling off of one so awkward. That’s what makes such a statement out of not wearing a helmet. It says of you I am willing to crack my head open for the sake of appearing cool, or I am stupid enough to think there is a 0% chance I need one because that’s how good I think I am. And Kae lay somewhere in the middle. From an early age, K had been very familiar with the intricate zig-zagging an urban setting demands. There are benches to keep an eye out for. People to avoid. Steps to hop. Trees to swerve around. Pigeons to dodge. Kae never understood why some people referred to it as the land equivalent of surfing. If anything they’re fifth cousins twice removed. Even in a downpour, skating in the rain never feels as fun as it looks in the movies. And it sure as hell doesn’t look as graceful as surfing.

The street-find was proving increasingly difficult to manoeuvre. But Kae liked a challenge. With blasting music and guts for days Kae was pushing through. Which is why it was so baffling to suddenly wake up to a roundtable of concerned pedestrians looking down from above. The smell of copper coins was overwhelming. All other four senses were shot. Kae scratched nervously at the pavement to lull the out-of-body experience and slowly began to feel the rough gravel. Sight and sound started to trickle in as strangers made space, and phone calls, and conversation. The familiar ambulance siren became more and more unfamiliar the closer it got. And suddenly a concerned mother was in sight, thanking the kind bicyclist who had spotted the body on the ground and stopped to help. If there was anything Kae remembered from that day it was the short, slim, middle-aged man wearing glasses, a dark blue tight fit shirt, and black spandex. He kept his yellow helmet on the entire time. It matched his shoes.

Kae kept the old dented skateboard by the bedside. A battle wound. And anyway you don’t just stop caring for something because it led you to your pitfall. If anything you place it on a pedestal and commemorate it every year. Kae also began to experience the wonder of walking again. A blast into the deep past. It’s a whole different way of perceiving the world. And of being perceived. As time rolled on, K began finding fewer compelling reasons not to stop and chat with a familiar face the way Jo always would. And in the hopes of one day running into bike man, Kae would keep on stopping.