Sante

Today the skies look different: it’s time to go for a bike ride.

I’ve been locked in my house for a week, recovering from my football injury, spending most of my time on the couch, with the gaming console, the TV remote, lots of snacks, and plenty of water. It’s time to see the outside world again.

Mum was nice and stayed with me for a bit. Gillian came over a few times, but she’s busy with her new job, so she didn’t have a lot of time to sit with me. Dad is away for work, coming back in a week or so. Charles has been less annoying than usual. Maybe it’s a bit of maturity. He’s still only eleven.

It hasn’t been that bad, I suppose. Initially the gaming and internet videos and so on was fun, but after a few days of it, I’d had enough. I tried reading for a bit. Even watched some network TV. Can’t remember how many years it’s been since I’ve done that. I did a jigsaw puzzle. That was okay. I read a book. Part of a book. I’ve never been a dedicated reader. I did as much as I could indoors. Enough is enough: I need to get out.

Doc says I can ride, but I just can’t run yet. So, ride I will. The weather overcast with layers of cloud, but that helps me. It’s about sixteen degrees with almost no wind. Public holiday in early autumn. Melbourne can turn on good exercise days like this on a regular basis. I’d rather be in this climate than anywhere else. I don’t like the heat.

My tyres are a bit low, so I’ll have to walk the bike up to the local service station and pump them up. I need to stop being so lazy and get myself a hand pump. Gillian reckons I need to get my act together and be more organised. She says it in that cute, half-serious way, as if she’s expecting me to be antagonistic towards her in response. As if!

Like yesterday, when she was asking if I’d made up my mind about the uni course I wanted to do.

“Sante?” she says. That cautious, gentle inquiry, as always, made with a slight raising of her eyebrow at me. Makes me want to kiss her, every time. Especially when she says my name in that quiet, unassuming voice. But I don’t kiss her. Not this time. She’s on the other side of the room and I have my right leg up on the couch, elevated.

“Yes, Gill?” I say.

“Have you decided yet?”

“Decided what?”

“You know what I’m referring to.” Actually I don’t. Well, if I could be bothered thinking about it, maybe I do. Uni?

“Uni, you mean?” I smile at her, hoping to get a smile in response, but I’m out of luck. Maybe I will have to kiss her.

She nods hopefully, almost raising her eyebrows at the fact that I’m not playing dumb for a change.

“Uh. No. Not exactly,” I say. “Engineering, maybe. Or psychology. Or astronomy. Pros and cons in all of them. I need more time.”

“You’ve had more time for weeks now.” She turns away from me. I catch a brief expression of exasperation, not fully masked. Her short brunette curls bounce slightly, distracting me.

I’m a tad annoyed, but actually, she’s right. She means well. I’ve just got to pick something. The deadline is approaching fast. It’s unfair that such a big life choice has to be made when you’re only twenty. Okay, so I’ve taken two years off after high school and still haven’t decided what career I want. It’s not the easiest thing to do.

“Tell you what,” I say, breezily. She turns at my tone and gives me a smile. I feel a little thrill go through me. I would do anything for this girl. I’m so lucky to have a girlfriend with such incredible depth, grace and gentleness. I adore her.

“I’ll make a decision once I get back on my feet. Everything’s a bit weird with me here on the couch and all that. It’s not my normal life. Might make the wrong choice. I’ve still got a few weeks. You’re doing music and that’s great. You’ve always known that, even back in year twelve. Year ten even. For me, I could do a few things and...” I trail off. I’ve said this before.

Her expression darkens a bit.

“But this time I’ll do it! I’ll decide. On Tuesday, okay? I’ll do some serious research. Promise, this time!” My tone is convincing, even to my own ears.

She smiles at me again and then comes over to the couch and gives me a hug, kneeling on the floor to do so. She holds me for a while. I can smell her fragrance. It’s delightful. I don’t want to let her go but I know she’s leaving. “I’ve gotta go,” she says. “Early start tomorrow.”

“Oh yes! Good luck, yeah?” I forgot that she told me that she’s being moved to the morning shift. She doesn’t seem to mind that I forgot. She blows me a kiss as she’s walking out. I wish she could have stayed longer, as always.

The question of what to do with my life is on my mind again as I’m approaching the service station. I still have no idea. Maybe I could take another year off? I’ve got a steady job. It pays for my car. We take road trips that we wouldn’t be able to afford if we were both students. Maybe I can sell that to her. We could get our own place too. I don’t want to leave Mum and Dad, though. Not yet. I love Dad, he’s awesome, but I couldn’t bear the thought of only seeing Mum occasionally. Maybe I could move down the road or something. She could cook for me. For us, I mean. She’s such a good cook. But she’s so much more than that.

They say that you marry a version of your mother. In my case there is truth to that. My girlfriend resembles my mother in many ways. I’m not for a moment thinking that I’m going to marry Gillian, not yet. But it has been more than two years. It’s going well. She and Mum are so much alike. Mum is intelligent, caring, dresses well, has so few pretensions, and is always calm and measured. Just like my girlfriend. As well as that, Mum loves Gill. Loves her. That’s rare, I reckon.

Dad thinks I could do better. He doesn’t say it, but I feel like he thinks I should have a trophy wife. Or a trophy girlfriend, at least. I’m just happy to be with someone who allows me to totally be myself. She’s definitely that. She gets me, absolutely.

More than that. She... I don’t want to admit it. Admitting it is hard. I then have to face that in myself and wonder if I measure up. She... she loves me unconditionally. She’ll be there for me no matter what I do with my life or how moody I might get on any given day. I take that for granted sometimes. Okay, a lot. She gives in to me regularly, just because she wants what I want. I feel guilty some times, wishing I could return such amazing generosity of spirit back to her.

I don’t know how to.

Well, at least I think I don’t. I just try to be responsive at those rare times when she asks me for something. Like yesterday, with the uni thing. I’ve got to do the right thing by this girl. God knows she would do the same for me ten times over.

I’m at the service station now. There’s a guy in his BMW using the air pump. I’ll get out of his way. I move over to the bushes behind the air station. I don’t think he’s even noticed me. He’s taking his sweet time. I try to be inconspicuous. I don’t want him to think I’m an impatient person, even though I am. I’m working on it.

He’s done and I get my turn. My god, only 17 psi in each tyre. That’s how long it’s been since I went for a ride. An eight hundred dollar bike needs to be used more than that. I get each tyre up to 36 psi, and I’m good to go. Where to? I never decide these things ahead of time. That’s part of the fun. My sports watch will track the streets and keep tabs on how far I’ve ridden. No more than twenty kilometres today. I don’t want to overdo it.

I start out along the bike path next to the freeway. I never decide ahead of time where I’m going. I just let it happen. Looks like I’m heading west today. This particular section of the path runs for not much more than a kilometre. I wish it were longer because it’s a beautiful little stretch through gum trees and native bushes, with very few others on it, most of the time. Today it’s a bit busier than usual. Maybe it’s the effect of the holiday and the nice weather.

When I’m not playing football I prefer to go for a run rather than ride, but riding is nice. I can go farther, for starters. Riding is less taxing than running, however, like running, it gives me time to think.