Bike Ride

I walked towards my bike, the only one remaining. 

Our governor had ordered everyone to go home immediately. Everyone had gone home, everyone except me.

I looked back at the school for one last time. The school’s edges were highlighted by the sun. Leaves fell near the front, the only sign of movement left in the building.

The wind suddenly gushed into my face, blowing a final kiss and telling me to head back home. I quickly searched my pockets for my phone, but nothing was there. I had forgotten it at home. I grabbed onto the handlebars and started pedaling.

For the first time, the streets weren’t crowded. Moreover, the bike line was all clear.

I felt like a horse set free on a prairie. I zoomed down 6th Avenue, deciding which way to go. I needed to meet my family soon. I took right, however, which was away from my house. I had to see it one last time.

At the end of the street, a gleaming, steel-framed tower soared above the clouds. I imagined the spire piercing through the sky. The tower was a New York City icon. Second to the Statue of Liberty I would say. Usually, I would only be able to come a hundred feet away from the tower before I had to wiggle through a sea of people. Today, I could touch the Empire State Building. I stood at the entrance of the building and looked up. My mouth dropped, along with some tears.

I checked my Rolex. I frowned.

I turned around and pedaled. 

I still smelled the cigarettes, gasoline, and pigeon poop.

My stomach rumbled. I was only about two blocks away from my favorite deli. I could already smell a warm chicken buffalo sandwich cooked by Mrs. Willow. The deli sat on the corner of a street. I always stopped after school. 

I suddenly realized. Could Mrs. Willow have already gone home too? My heart pounded.

I jumped off my bike and tossed my helmet.  I sprinted to the door which held a sign: OPEN.  

I let a deep breath out. I was surprised to see not only lights but people in this place.

Mrs. Willow stood at the counter, wearing her usual smile. When she saw me, her smile grew even wider. She quickly returned to the customer in front of her. She was in an extra hurry today. She ran back and forth from the kitchen to the counter. Mr. Baggi and the other deli clerks must have gone home.

Even with only Mrs. Willow working, the line moved just as quick, maybe even quicker.

The person in front of me had finally received his sandwich, and I was face to face with Mrs. Willow. I could smell her lavender perfume.

“Well, Drake,” she said. “What took you so long?”

My lips stretched wide.

“I’m just checking out the city for one last time. I didn’t think I took that long,” I replied.

She smiled.

“That’s great Drake, but you have to go back to your family. All your friends came here a while ago. We don’t have much time, what would you like?”

“The usual. A crispy buffalo chicken sandwich please.”

She pulled one from the counter.

“Already made.”

I pulled out money from my wallet. 

“No, please. This one is on me,” Mrs. Willow said.

“No. After all the times you’ve paid for me. Let me pay you this time,” I said, placing a ten-dollar bill on the counter.

Mrs. Willow smiled. We knew this would be the last time.

“And Jake,” she said sharply. “Hurry back home now.”

I nodded and ran out.

I tried not to take any detours, but I decided to bike through Central park. It was basically on the way home. I glanced around at the trees and lake. It was one of the only sources of true nature in the industrialized city.

As I exited, I saw multiple cars parked along the street. My eyebrows furrowed. 

Home was just a few blocks away. As I continued down the street, more and more cars filled the street. I suddenly realized they were all parked for the church. 

My family always attended the Sunday services. 

More and more people walked into the building. I checked my watch. 

I stood still for a moment and suddenly pedaled faster. I leapt off my bike and followed the crowd into the church.

I could hear Pastor Joe.

The seats were full, so I stood in the back with the rest of the incomers.

“I see a lot more friends have decided to join us,” Pastor Joe said. “Welcome. For those who just walked in, we are about to sing a hymn.”

Pastor Joe spotted me and smiled. I smiled back.

“Would everyone please rise now.”

Everyone in the pews stood up. The music began.

I always lipsynched and played the verses in my head, but I never sang. Everyone around me lifted their hands and sang as loud as they could.

My hands were to my side.

Suddenly, I lifted my hands. Words flew out of my mouth. I sang the entire hymn. 

Pastor Joe nodded and smiled.

I checked my watch. My eyes widened. I sprinted out of the church and biked home.

I left my bike on the street and opened my apartment door. My sister, mom, and dad stood waiting at the door. Tears rolled down my mom’s cheeks. I stood still.

“I am sorry,” I said. “I thought I could–”

She rushed over and hugged me. My dad and sister joined in.

“It’s okay,” mom whispered. “We saw your phone was back at home. We were worried about where you were.”

Suddenly I heard shrieking hiss. 

“Is that it?” my sister cried.

We all hugged each other tight.

“It’s going to be okay,” my father said.

The ground suddenly shook. A yellow light blinded me. I felt the intense heat come from behind and consume us.