Friday, January 23 2004
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Friday, January 23 2004 |
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I hear voices By Rick Ryckeley I hear voices. Okay, just one voice, but I’m sure some of you hear it too. You know, that little voice in your head that lets you know you’re about to do something that’s gonna get you into a lot of trouble. Some call it the voice of reason. Others call the voice a conscience. I just call the voice Jim. Jim has been around a long time, and if I’d listen to him more often, I wouldn’t get into so much trouble. The first time I remember hearing him was way back in the third grade. During recess, Down the Street Bully Brad told me that eating a bug would impress Candi. Jim said it wouldn’t. Jim was right. I took the little green grass hopper from Brad, popped it in my mouth and started to chew. Candi ran away screaming. It took all the way till the fifth grade before she would kiss me again. I should’ve listened to Jim. When I was eight, Twin Brother Mark, Neighbor Thomas and I decided one afternoon we were going to jump over Cripple Creek on our bikes. Cripple Creek ran behind Thomas’s house and fed the neighbor fishing lake that was behind ours, just above the swamp. We rode our bikes up around the lake to where the creek flowed into it. Thomas walked back to his house to get lumber to build the ramp; we walked back to ours to get a mattress. We knew if we made it over the creek we would need something soft to land on. Jim didn’t think jumping bikes was a good idea. Mark and I walked around the lake to the far side of Cripple Creek with the mattress. After we dropped the mattress on the far bank, all the way back to get our bikes, the voice in my head said it wasn’t a good idea to jump.someone could get hurt. As it turned out, I should have listen to that voice. I should have listened to Jim. We helped Thomas construct a ramp on the near bank, just like the one Evel Knievel used to jump the Snake River Canyon. Thomas went first on his Blue Streak. He peddled as fast as he could and hit the ramp, flying up over Cripple Creek and landing on the other side, right on top of the mattress! He bounced once and ran into the bamboo forest where he crashed! Thomas was okay. Laughing, he untangled his bike from the bamboo and yelled over to us, “Guys, you gotta try this! It’s GREAT!” Next up was Mark. Right before Mark jumped, I heard that little voice again, “Jumping bikes over a creek is a bad idea. Someone could get hurt.” I of course ignored Jim’s warning and told Mark he could make it. I figured if he could so could I, us being twins and all. Mark peddled his bike, hit the ramp and just like Thomas, sailed over Cripple Creek and bounced once off the mattress before he ran into the bamboo forest, laughing all the way. My turn was next. At this point, Jim was screaming for me not to jump. He was sure I was going to get hurt. I ignored him and climbed aboard the Red Stinger, rode down to the rope swinging tree by the lake, turned around and, as fast as I could, peddled towards the ramp. Thomas and Mark were cheering me on as I approached. Jim was yelling for me to stop. Just before I hit the ramp, a bullfrog jumped across my path and into the creek. I swerved to miss the frog and hit the ramp sideways. The Red Stinger flew across Cripple Creek and crashed into the far bank, falling into the water. I flew across the creek, hit the mattress, bounced once and landed in the bamboo forest, breaking my arm. The little voice in my head said, “Told you so.” I still hear Jim’s voice every now and then, usually warning me right before I do something really dumb. Through the years I’ve learned to listen to that little voice, and when I have, Jim’s kept me out of trouble. You know.the older I get, the more that voice sounds just like my dad. Come to think of it, his name is James. [Rick Ryckeley is employed by the Fayette County Department of Fire and Emergency Services. He can be reached at saferick@bellsouth.net.] |