The Misfit

They work on their bikes more than ride them. He feels safe here. Outside the woods are falling asleep. Trying not to expect too much.

Fall’s his favorite, from the first time he dove through a pile of leaves and heard the rare sound of his mother’s laughter, and now this.

The girls are coming later. So what? he says. You know you like her, Mike adds. Common Oz, its okay to like her, Steve laughs. Isn’t it?

He loves the dirt bike’s elegance, loves that he can repair it.  If the shed were school he’d get A’s. No one there knows how to grade him.

The bike is finished, night birds soft on the radio. Wood stove, ember sounds, outside the wind, inside they talk. Could this be home?

Tomorrow they ride, ride the wind. Trails full of leaves, protecting.  Its fun to crash, laugh at death—teenagers—feeling as if he belongs.

You need a seat for two, she says. He looks at the gas tank, face on fire. I guess, he mumbles, gunning it for the fields, heart pounding.

Never saw the rock. Never saw the sky spinning, heaven and earth. Never heard her standing over him, sobbing, black umbrella in the rain.

© 2010 Derek Osborne

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4 thoughts on “The Misfit

  1. M. Folie says:

    Having known you back then
    I can say with some authority
    You were already rehearsing
    Your nostalgia for that life
    While you were living it.

    Now that forty years have passed
    I can say with some authority
    All of that practice
    Has finally paid off.

  2. This man is a stooge! Mel planted him here, or maybe Dave Erlewine. I don’t exactly trust that xtx person, either.

  3. Teresa says:

    Loved this series, Derek. So glad it’s all together now for the world to see.

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