I Will if You Will

This "challenge" was issued in the comments a few days ago by the Rambling Prophet.

It has been years since someone threw that particular gauntlet down to me, but over the course of several insomnia-haunted nights, I remembered several instances rather clearly.

Most (re -- all) of the most vivid memories included two brothers in the neighborhood -- Anthony and his younger sibling, Patrick. Anthony and I were the same age, and Patrick was two or three years younger. Their grandmother lived (and still lives) two doors down from my mom, and they lived at the bottom of the road.

The stink bombs in the neighbor's mailbox.


There was the time we were swinging on a grapevine hanging from a tree. All was well, and fun, until it broke. . .

Ahhh, Skoal bandits. For those of you not well-versed in pre-pubescent redneck life, skoal bandits were little packets of skoal smokeless tobacco. All the nicotine, none of the messy black specks on your teeth. Yep, I've dipped. There's my world-wide confession. Patrick and I were fine. Anthony got sick as a dog.

Riding our bikes and playing army on Sewer Plant Road. The road also went through the middle of a large cow pastures with lots of cows. Ever ridden as fast as possible only to lock your brakes in a "pile?" Or riding through a fresh pile? Why my mom never got mad at what I was doing to my clothes is beyond me!!

But, the most vivid in my mind is the time Anthony and Patrick said, "If we ride down the hill, will you?" Now, they did not have to designate what was "the hill." We lived at the base of a mountain; there were plenty of hills, but "the" in "the hill" was this one.



Only 27 years ago, there wasn't all that "growth", that huge pine tree, or pavement. It was red clay dirt, going straight down, into a ditch and ending on a dirt road.

The rational answer would be, "No."
The simple answer would be, "No."
The obvious answer would be, "No."

So my obvious answer was, "You go first and I'll do it."

So, we went up the driveway that would take us to the top. Anthony went down and Patrick followed with some mad skillz that would make Ned Overend (google him) proud.

Then, it was my turn. The girl with the attitude. The girl with something to prove. The girl with pride.

Only unbeknownst to said female, Anthony and Patrick had been practicing and understood perfectly the concept of going down on an angle and slightly breaking but allowing the wheels to roll some as well.

I took a deep breath, pushed off and. . .

"Are you alive?" the next thing I remember is lying on my back in the middle of the road looking up at two blond heads staring at me as if I had just dropped in from outerspace. Based on their recollection, that may not have been too much an exaggeration.

So much for attitude and pride. I had started out good, but within the first few inches, accelerated beyond control, hit the bottom of the ditch, flipped over the handle bars and landed on my back in the middle of the dirt road.

Ouch.

So, Tony, if it is all the same to you, I think I'll pass this time!

(And is it any wonder I have a fear of heights and could never ride down steep hills later when, as an adult, I got bit by Bernard's mountain biking bug)


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Serious, sad warning.

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There is just something not right when the people from your childhood die. Trooper Anthony, it doesn't seem real that it has been over 5 years, but that is what the calendar says, so it must be so. I'm thankful we had those early years together, and the friendship we shared.