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The Story:
Jason has been hit seven times. He has endured several broken bones, usually ribs, and has had to replace his bicycle each time. An orange vest and several reflectors are all that urge drivers to notice him.
He chases the miles between towns with thighs that no longer complain. In his backpack he always carries extra tire tubes, an air pump, water, some food, and a journal.
His travels and slower-than-driving pace lead him to conversations with many different people. Social media does not know him, but certain people in dozens of towns do.
As he crosses a busy Tennessee intersection, a sports car runs the red light. Jason keeps pedaling as usual because a truck distracts him from noticing.
The squeal of rubber grinding pavement commands his attention. He looks just as the impact catapults him into the air, sending journal pages into a twirly flight. He feels a sharp pain in his back as he lands back down. Then, darkness.
——————————
Jason opens his eyes to a white hospital room—something he is accustomed to doing. As his vision begins to focus, he sees several balloons and cards. What concerns him are the messages and exclamatory phrases.
“Stay strong,” one says.
Then, on the table next to his bed, he notices a book titled “One step to many more.” He begins to panic and reaches for his call button—at least, his mind reaches for it.
He labors under the instruction of his body, but it won’t comply. A tear squeezes from the corner of his right eye.
“Neck down,” says a voice from the entrance to his room.
His ex-wife, Shelby, is dwarfed by the oversized doorway.
“What else?”
“They say you’re fine. Cuts and bruises. But your back is broken.”
He watches the city through the window.
“Options?”
There is a pause from Shelby, but Jason awaits her reply, patiently.
“Hope, sweetie.”
Hope. The one thing he has never cared about. The one thing he swore he would never need. Now, the only thing he has.
Jason smiles at Shelby and after several seconds lifts his left index finger. She cups her mouth in her hands as tears of joy spring from her eyes.
“Hope. I can do that.”