“As with juggling, the key to life is to keep the procession moving steady and don’t look down. That’s how Evil Kenevil did it.”
“Most likely; dude, how else do you think he survived all of those jumps? He had to of had some type of motto.”
“Guess you’re right, but, I don’t know…”
“Don’t know what? Spit it out Bro.”
“I mean, are you sure I’m all cut out for this? You seem so sure about yourself when you’re riding and all, but this kind of stuff… just scares me.” Brad looked at his older brother questioningly. He was the play baseball, run track type of kid, not the ride dirt bikes and do tricks kind of kid.
“Dude, look the chicks are gonna dig you, that’s what you want, isn’t it?” Eric revved his bike for emphasis. “Now watch what I do, and remember, don’t look down!”
Brad watched as Eric hit the jump at full throttle and landed it perfectly. He revved his bike getting a feel for the clutch, and then thought to himself, Well Evil Kenevil, here goes!
His heart raced, lungs caught in his chest and head screaming, What the hell are you thinking! Brad took to the air. It was the moment that he ignored Eric’s advice and looked down that he realized he was never going to make it to the other side of the jump.
His body reacted of its own accord and he baled from the bike. Brad heard it hit with a loud thud at the top of the return hill while he fell watching the ground race towards him.
Brad made contact with the ground accompanied by a sickening crunch. He passed out before the pain reached him.
Brad woke in the ICU at the hospital and found first that he was connected in every possible way to something and then felt himself alive with all the pain coursing through him.
He could hear Eric talking, “I swear Mom, I knew he could make it, and I told him the same thing Uncle Rob told me, you know, about life and not looking down!”
“It’s a miracle he’s still alive Eric- I swear to God. You’re Uncle’s going to get the reaming of his life.”
Brad heard the door open then shut and saw his mom sit down in the chair next to the bed.
“How bad is it ma?”
“Two broken legs, four broken ribs, two cracked ones, a dislocated shoulder and a broken hand. Brad, you’re lucky you didn’t die! What were you thinking?”
“Guess God didn’t mean for me to be like Evil Kenevil, did he?” Brad tried to laugh, but winced in pain. “Tell ya what Ma, that’s the last time I get on a dirt bike. Screw impressing the chicks.”