The Rented Motorcycle And The Fork In The Road Late At Night Ordeal (Part One)

[Jim Nasium]

The Rented Motorcycle And The Fork In The Road Late At Night Ordeal (Part Two)


III.

Pretty well drunk and very well stoned I felt tired until I got back on the bike and headed home. The fresh cool night sea air blowing in my face not only refreshed me and sobered me up but it reminded me where I was. There's something special in the air down in Jamaica that makes the air smell different, special, almost magical. No where else I've been on this planet does the air smell like the air in Jamaica or at least not to me. I was zipping along at around 50MPH doing real good on the bike all things considered when I knew I was coming up to a fork in the road and a left turn right after turning on to the left fork. The right part of the fork in the road is the main road and the left part is not only narrower but also goes up a hill. I knew the fork in the road and the turn was coming up soon but just was not sure exactly where it was. It was not so easy to see in my condition and there was no moon that night just gray storm clouds waiting to break open any minute.

I was zipping along when suddenly, right there on my left was he fork in the road and my turn; "turn now" I said to myself with out even giving any thought to what it was I was telling myself to do!! Why I didn't just stop, turn around, go back and take the left fork and the left turn is beyond me. For some reason in that same moment I thought "turn now" I turned the handle bars all the way to the left, didn't lean left and next thing I knew I was heading right for a big old bolder near a big old cluster of breadfruit trees damn near laying on my side with the bike on top of me. With all the strength I could gather I some how pushed the bike up and away from me then rolled to a stop on the dirt road while the bike continued on towards the bolder and trees and then hit hard.

I got scratched up pretty bad and just sat there in the dirt for awhile looking at the bike against the trees and bolder. Once I gathered my thoughts I realized I was still a few miles from where I wanted to be and that I had to walk. I knew I couldn't leave the bike laying there; it would be gone when I retunred. There was no choice, I had to bring the smahed bike with me and push it all the way home. By the time I got down the road past the sugar cane fields and the small cluster of wood homes near the bottom of Dixon Hill, the hill my rented home was on I was exhausted from my long day and pushing the bike. I dropped the bike and sat down on it to rest at the bottom of the hill . Early morning birds were singing songs of the new day, dogs were barking at first light of day dissolving the darkness as cats were all heading home from a night on the prowl.

Finally I saw another human, he was on his way to the outdoor market but when he saw me and the bike all banged up he offered to help me push the thing up the hill to my house. I was very thankful for his help. Once up the hill I thanked the man and when I stretched my hand out to shake his hand he handed me a small wad of bakery paper folded up and told me to enjoy and then said goodbye.

I pushed the bike through the gate into Rastas yard and sat down next to it thankful to be home. I was a bit worried about what this bike was going to cost to get fixed and how I would ever get in back to Montego bay. I felt so bad from getting thrown off the bike and I was sore, hung over and tired. I felt tears of joy to be home forming in my eyes when I heard Rasta say "'morning Jim mon, what go on"

IV.

Rasta Dixon stood there looking at me all scratched up and the bike laying on the ground next to me with the front tire and forks all bent up speechless, waiting for me to say something. I had nothing to say and just wanted to see what was in the wad of bakery paper the man who helped me get the bike up the hill gave me. When I saw it was ganja, enough to roll a big fatty that's exactly what I did and using the thin bakery paper the gift was given to me in I had one twisted up in no time. Rasta announced he was going to go get us some lime leaf tea, boiled banana, ackee, tomato, fried fish and more ganja...

Rasta returned and as we ate and drank I told him the story of me going into town to rent a bike, the new friends I made and how I got screwed and why I smashed the rented bike up. "Ya mash dat ting up gud mon" Rasta Dixon said then went on to tell me about his little blue Thames Pick-Up Truck and how we could use it to take the motorcycle back to Mogo Bay if we could get the little blue Thames Pickup running.

After asking every one near by and in the town a few miles away that owned a car or truck if they could loan us the battery out of their vehicle or if they had an extra battery we could use to get the little blue Thames pickup running finally we met a guy that knew a guy and so we headed out to meet him and hopefully come back with a battery.

Luck was with us and by late afternoon that day we were back home with a battery, had it in the truck and after much ado finally got the little blue Thames pickup truck running. It was late evening when we ate dinner outside the house in Rastas yard near the little blue Thames pickup Truck and the destroyed Motorcycle. As we ate dinner with Rasta Dixon's whole family he and I made plans to leave for Mogo Bay in the morning to return the bike.

A little afraid of not knowing how the man that rented the motorcycle to me was going to take me returning with a smashed up bike Rasta assured me if I bring enough money along to offer enough money to cover the damages and for the mans trouble, on the spot, things would go as well as could be expected wiht all things considered... so I did and things went down better than I thought, so much better I even left there with another bike.

As it turned out I was not the first red eyed blown out hippie to crack up one of these rentals so it wasn't anything new to the man who rented the bikes even though it was all new to me...

Jim Nasium (AKA: Jimmy Too Bad)
7.22.2014