‘Only a trail bike on a farm when I was growing up,’ I reply nervously.
‘Well, hold on tight, babe, ’cause you’re in for one hell of a ride.’ He sounds like a teenage kid who is driving his own car for the first time.
‘But I can’t see!’ I scream as he squeezes a helmet over my head and ensures my glasses are correctly positioned.
‘You don’t need to see, I do,’ he shouts back at me over the noise.
The engine growls to life underneath me. He laces my fingers together around his waist.
‘You just need to hold on!’
‘Do you have a licence to ride this thing?’ I yell in his direction.
‘You don’t need to shout. I can hear you now you have your helmet on.’ I hear his voice penetrating the inside of my helmet, straight into my ear. He ignores my question. Uh oh, I realise I have just asked another, and hope he hasn’t noticed.
‘Hold on, sweetheart, and try to calm your breathing just a little.’ He could obviously hear my anxiety through the helmet’s microphone.
‘Easier said than done!’ As the beast lurches forward, I’m almost left behind. I have no option but to hold on to him as tightly as possible as we swerve around a sharp corner. The wild ride of this weekend is clearly still in full octane swing.
We stop and start quite a bit for a while and it takes my balance a while to adjust to the unanticipated manoeuvres. Jeremy isn’t talking so I presume he is concentrating on city traffic, which is at least a little comforting. Now that I am on a motorbike, I don’t feel quite so conspicuous in my outfit. And at least I’m not wearing a blindfold. We pick up speed and the ride eventually becomes smooth, making it considerably more comfortable than the jerkiness of before, where I was continually bracing myself for the next move.
‘Are you alright back there?’
As I feel Jeremy readjust his position on the seat, I realise I am squeezing him so tight, he must be having difficulty breathing.
‘AB?’
My grip is so strong; I’m not game to loosen it in case I fall off. My legs anchor me to the bike while my arms brace his waist. My upper body is slamming against his back so there is not a millimetre of space between us. Just as I tell myself to loosen my grip and tell Jeremy I’m fine, the bike swerves to the right and back to the left rapidly. Great, now he is overtaking someone.
‘Alexa, can you hear me?’ His voice pounds into my helmet again.
‘Yes, yes, I can. I’m okay. Just concentrating on, well, on holding on, really.’ I stammer out the words as we gather more speed. ‘Staying alive’ would have been more appropriate, I muse.
‘Are you scared?’ His questions continue to filter through to my headspace.
‘What do you think? I never knew you could ride.’
‘I’ve been riding for years. It’s great to be finally taking you out for a spin.’
‘Well, I’d rather be experiencing the ride with vision.’ I can’t help but point this out. ‘Please be careful, Jeremy. I really need to come out of this alive. I’m in your hands.’
‘Indeed you are, Alexa. Finally you are beginning to understand. Settle back and relax into the ride; we are on the open road now.’
‘And I don’t suppose you will enlighten me as to which open road that might be?’
‘You know that would spoil the fun.’
At that, he goes full throttle and lets ‘her’ embrace the road at high speed, which does take my breath away.
Who would have thought I’d be riding on a boisterous beast such as this, in pitch black conditions? Not me in a million years. Once I let myself relax a little, not too much though, I have to admit it is a great feeling. Thankfully Jeremy’s position in front ensures my insulation from the harshness of the wind, which allows me to appreciate the exhilaration and openness of the bike. Imagine if the kids could see me now! They wouldn’t recognise me. Jordan would hardly believe it, but would think I was the coolest mum ever. He’d want to take a photo to prove it to his friends and teacher in Show and Tell, although he’d be more impressed if I was riding on my own. Elizabeth would probably be more concerned for my safety and would ask me if I was scared. I can’t help reflecting on whether male and female gender roles and values are that predictable from birth when assessing risk. I’ve never been able to resolve the whole nature versus nurture debate though it always makes for interesting discussion. I wonder how they are going out there in the wilderness and I hope they are having fun.
I don’t know where we are going, or whether the ride is itself the destination. No doubt Jeremy has it all sorted out in his plans for our forty-eight hours of togetherness. He is certainly being true to his word when he said he wouldn’t waste a minute of it. So I calm myself down, snuggle into his back and rest my head against his shoulders. The engine’s rhythm between my legs provides a consistent, pleasant, low-level vibration. My other senses are completely soaking up and absorbing the whole experience. It feels fantastic and I am really, honestly enjoying the ride. I hug him a little from my position behind him.
‘Jeremy, this is really amazing. I would never have dreamt of doing this and I’m loving it.’ His hand gently pats mine as if to acknowledge my words. I immediately freeze.
‘Please, please, please keep both hands on the handlebars. I don’t need to be freaked out more than I already am.’
He laughs as he returns his hand safely to the handlebar. ‘Okay, fair enough.’
‘Thank you.’ I can’t stop myself smiling, just as I can’t deny enjoying the ride. The wind, the speed, the engine, the closeness is awesome … even the blackness is exciting, in a strange, surreal way. I allow myself to submerge in the exhilaration of the journey, not knowing where it will lead me.
We eventually slow down after quite some time, maybe an hour or so, maybe more. I’m not sure and I’m not going to ask. Jeremy assists me off the bike, my legs slightly numb from the ride, and removes the now-constricting helmet from my head. It’s good to stretch my legs, as they are a little shaky from being in the same position for so long. I’m more than a little self-conscious and adjust my sunglasses nervously.
‘Don’t worry, nobody is looking at us.’ He is able to read my discomfort.
‘Are you sure?’ The words leave my lips before any filtering can occur.
‘Yes, I’m sure. Because I can see and you can’t.’
‘Right, point made.’ My nose greedily sucks up the air around us when the fumes subside. There is a real freshness to it. The smell of it, combined with the gentle breeze and birdsong, reminds me of fond childhood memories with my cousins during school holidays.
I remain standing in place until he reaches out and holds my hand in his and we start walking.
‘I can’t believe you never told me you got your bike licence.’ I try to sound indignant.
‘There are many things you don’t know about me, Alex. Hopefully that will change over the coming years.’ Years? I think to myself that even when I try to be light and conversational, he manages to insert a hefty undertone and it keeps taking me by surprise. We pause as I hear him ask for two skim flat whites, no sugar, and could we have takeaway cups, please. Once again, the lack of consultation is a little astounding. Let it go … I relax my mind.
‘Coffee, how perfect,’ I say, thinking it gives me a hint that it must be between 10 or 11, Saturday morning. Or perhaps Jeremy has orchestrated the coffees to make me believe it is morning tea-ish. Stop thinking about time, I lecture myself. You have no control over it so forget it.
‘I