The shop assistant spoke first “Now this is another very popular bike for teenagers”
“And the price,” my dad asked inquisitively.
“Oh, well its one hundred and seventy pounds,” the man smiled and continued, ”Is this a problem?”
A frown appeared across my dads face “Yes, he only has one hundred and fifty pounds to spend.”
“Well,” the man was silent in deep thought, ” I suppose I could go down as far as one hundred and sixty but no less.”
My dad paused “Ok,” he said, “would it be ok if David tried it out.”
“Of course he can,” the man replied as he got a bike off the huge rack them and lowered the seat to about the right size for me. I climbed on anxiously and began to ride down the wide cement floored isle. The brakes squeaked as I came to a sudden halt.
I rode back down the isle as with a large smile on my face. I wanted this bike and I wanted it so much when riding I narrowly missed an elderly couple, “Sorry,” I yelled. They gave me a stern look and started to go on about the usual “that would have never happened in my day” and so on.
“How was it?” the friendly looking shop assistant asked.
“It was great,” I replied. I still had a gleaming smile on my face.
“Shall we take it then?” my dad asked, “I’ll pay the extra ten pounds.”
“Thanks dad.” This had made my day.
We walked over to the counter; the worker was pushing the bike and leading the way.
“Ok, that’s one hundred and sixty pounds please,” said a tall slim man with a small beard and a rather large moustache.
We handed over the money.
“There’s a newsagent just around the corner,” the man exclaimed, “you can either go there or simply wait in the waiting room, it will take about fifteen minutes.
“Thank you” my dad said as we were walking out of the large, windowed door.
We were gone about twenty to thirty minutes before we came back and we did the bike was ready.
“Mr Jones is it?” an extremely fat man asked.
“Yes,” my dad replied.
“It’ll only be a minute,” he said as he was waddling off.
About five minutes later he came around the corner with my bike. It was rapped in cloudy clear plastic making the strong golden yellow glisten when hit by a ray of sunlight that rarely entered the room.
“Thank you,” the man at the counter said with a large grin going from ear to ear.
After a struggle we packed the bike up and went home.
My bike had been collecting dust for about three weeks before I used it. I guess it seems like I was saving it for a special occasion like a new suit you buy and save it for a wedding. There was no special occasion so I decided to ask my dad if he wanted to go down to Felly Woods on our bikes.
Felly Woods was an extremely lonely wood that was perfect for cyclists who did not mind getting covered from head to toe in thick grit filled mud. This was appealing part of cycling for me. You could go for miles and miles with only passing the odd walker or cyclist. The trees were extremely thick letting in very little light for shrubbery to grow.
It was a Sunday afternoon at about a quarter to two. The sun was still out but because it was the month of February the sun was very low in the sky.
“Are we off then?” my dad yelled. He had already got all of his cycling gear on.
“One minute I’ll just go and get changed,” I replied anxiously.
We set off following a number of small winding roads that led up to a main busy road. About a mile up the road was an opening to Felly Woods.
We pulled up in the extremely small area where possibly one or two cars could be parked. We stopped and took a drink. Getting ready for the long, tiring ride ahead. It was my dad who led the way for about three quarters of an hour into the ride when he all of a sudden started to slow down and let me pass him.
“Its ok,” he said, “I’ll be right behind you”
I started to speed up assuming that, as he said, he was right behind me. It was about ten or fifteen minutes before I looked behind myself. Nothing. My dad was no-where in sight so I stopped to wait for him. I waited about five minutes convincing myself that he would be around the corner any second. With ever sound I heard I would yell “Dad is that you” at the top of my voice.
After five minutes I decided to head back, after all, maybe some thing had happened to his bike and he was waiting for me to come back. Cycling back I felt so alone, lonely and scared and at some times extremely claustrophobic. It took me about ten minutes to find my dad but it felt like a lifetime.
He was lying with his eyes closed and blood all over his face and hands. His face was as pale as a ghost so I immediately checked for a pulse. Result. He was alive. I began to sob “Dad, dad, please wake up, please.”
He came around pretty quickly but then was drifting in and out of consciousness. No one was around and I could not have left my dad.
I constantly shouted for help and it seemed to have been worth the effort when a couple of young looking cyclists came past.
“Help!” I yelled at them when I saw them coming down the damp, muddy pathway.
“What’s up kiddo?” the younger looking of the two asked.
When they came closer they realised what has happened.
“Holy God,” one cried out, the other was speechless and looked very pale, “what in the Lords name has happened here?”
“I do not know, I did not really think about it.” I was shaking like a leaf on a windy autumns day.
“Well,” the man explained, “It seems that the brakes on his bike were so appalling that he attempted to stop but instead skidded in fell off. Hitting his head on the rock behind him.” The initially grey rock was now a cold bloody red.
“What on earth are we going to do,” I broke down once again. The situation was taking control of me.
“I’m going to ring the ambulance on my mobile.”
“They will never get down here,” one cyclist said looking very puzzled, “the path is just too narrow.”
“Yes, although about three hundred yards down the path it opens out into a small road. The ambulance should be able to access us from there.” He seemed like he knew what he was doing and therefore got straight on the phone to the ambulance. While he was doing this his friend said his first word to me. He asked me if I would ride up the path to attract the attention of the ambulance and lead the way. Even though I really wanted to stay with my dad I jumped straight on my bike and headed for the opening.
It took about fifteen minutes for the ambulance to arrive but it felt like hours. When they did arrive they were extremely efficient wasting no time at all. They were so good my dad was in the hospital in half an hour. They constantly reassured him that he was going to be fine.
It was a very worrying twenty-four hours with suggestions that he could be left with permanent brain damage. I spent that night in the hospital with my mum, older brother and younger sister. We were told everything as it happened and in the end it turned out that he had a severely fractured skull His left arms and legs were broken. He left the hospital within the week and was ordered not to go to work for at least four months.
My dad made a slow and steady recovery and to this day refuses to ride a bike. We were all relieved to see that the damage was not as severe as first thought but the day of terror in the woods will never be forgotten as long as I live.
