The Unforgettable Dream

“What’s the big deal, Mom,” Mark asked irritated, “why can’t I get one?”
“Mark, it’s not that I don’t want you to have one, it’s that I don’t have the money,” Mark’s mom screamed from the other room. Mark was a young man, average height with jet black, messy hair. He’s been wanting a dirt bike all his life and now more than ever.
“I really want one because Troy just got one and he’s been telling me all about it, and said he’s learning a lot”, Mark added.
Troy is Marks best friend. They met in first grade when Troy moved from Washington State. He has thin brown hair and pretty tall for his age. Troy always wears a blue baseball cap that has a big letter W on it from when he played for the state.
“Mark, I would love to buy you one but I just don’t have over a thousand dollars to spend on something that we don’t need.”
“What if I save up enough money and buy one myself,” Mark asked.
“I don’t know Mark, what if you get hurt on it and I have to pay medical bills then, what will we do”, Marks mom argued.
“Fine you know what I’m going for a walk. I’ll be back by dark,” Mark’s mom didn’t reply.
As I was walking I heard something rumbling through the leaves of the woods, two small deer, too young to know if they are buck or doe. I kept on walking, farther and farther away from my house; soon it was out of sight. I took a left at the y in the path and followed that path to another y and took a right that time. I know these paths like the back of my hand because when I was little my dad would drive me around on our old tractor. Now I walk them when I get a chance but it’s not as fun without dad.
There they were the two old barns. I remember when my dad used to get old materials from it like lumber and nails when he did little projects around the house. My mom always told me to never set foot in the barns without an adult with me and it could cave in at any time. No matter how hard I tried, she would never come with me to look inside.
I thought that I was old enough now; I was sixteen and just wanted to take a peak. When I looked inside the first one, there was an old radio, some bailing twine and stairs up against the back wall. It had a bad stench; the farmer must have kept animals in them and never cleaned the manure. I didn’t even attempt to go up the old stairs especially because of the three broken steps.
I walked around to the other barn and realized there was a basement. I thought I better be careful if I decide to go inside. First I want to the basement and saw a couple of wooden stalls, nothing special.
I went the rest of the way around the barn and to the first floor. To the left of the door way I could see a shelf about eight foot from the floor about to fall with about seven or eight bailes of hay on top. In the back there was a ton of pallets, probably around twenty-five or so, all stacked neatly. In front of the pallets there was a couple old rusty milk crates filled with miscellaneous metals, mostly steel. In front of them was an old cow bell made with an old tin can and a nail hung with a piece of wire. I walked over to it carefully, taking one step at a time.
I picked it up and as I raised it my hand hit something hard. The thing I hit was covered with an old tarp. When I took a closer look at it, I saw an outline of something about four foot tall, six foot long, and around eight inches wide. I couldn’t believe my eyes there was no chance that it could have been, not in all my dreams, nothing could stop me from pulling that tarp off, nothing.
I tore the tarp off as hard as I could and three small mice scrambled from it. I jumped back and without the slightest warning, not the slightest sound, my foot hit a soft spot in the floor board.
As I lay there, with my foot through the floor, I could see my future dirt bike in decent condition standing before me.
I struggled again and again to try and pull my leg out of the hole but I could not get it out. I finally thought of grabbing the cow bell and tore the nail out and started digging the wood away from beside my leg, it was working slowly.
As the day turned to dusk I finally got my leg out of the hole. I could barely stand on it, just enough that I could walk on it. I was glad to know that it wasn’t broken, must have been a pretty good sprain.
I hobbled home as fast as I could without hurting myself even more. By the time I arrived, it just became dark.
“Where were you all this time,” Mark’s mom asked worriedly.
“I saw some deer in the woods when I was sitting and they didn’t want to leave” Mark lied, “I didn’t want to spook them”
“If you were sitting this whole time, then explain why you are limping,” Mark’s mom asked even more worried than the last time she spoke.
“On the way there I slipped and fell on a rock and didn't want to turn back,” Mark lied again.
“Okay, just be more careful next time,” Mark’s mom said in a more calm voice.
As I was walking up to my bedroom, I grabbed my phone off the kitchen table and started dialing Troy’s number. I put the phone up to my ear and I could hear the sound of his phone starting to ring. I was so excited to tell him the news. It was on the second to the last ring and I was beginning to think he wasn't going to pick up.
“Hello,” I could hear Troy’s voice on the other line.
“Hey Troy,” I asked.
“Ya who is this”
“It’s mark I have some great news”
I told him everything that happened. How me and my mom were fighting and how she wouldn't let me get a dirt bike. Then I went for a walk and remembered the old barns. Also how I looked inside and found the dirt bike, in pretty good condition, covered with an old tarp and the mice running from it that made me jump back before my foot went through the floor board. And finally how I had to lie to my mom and say I didn’t want to spook them.
“I have an idea if you’re serious about getting this bike,” said Troy
Without the slightest doubt in my mind I said, “I’m as serious as I’ll ever be, so what’s your idea.”
“Okay, first call your neighbor and ask if it’s fine with her if you can have it. If it’s good with her, we will get the bike and take it over my house and get it running. Sound good?”
“Sounds great when you can come over,” I asked
“How about tomorrow,” Troy suggested.
“Ya, Okay, but can you get here before my mom gets home from work?”
“I’ll be there before two o’clock,” Troy said.
“Great I’ll be ready”
“Okay, call your neighbor,” Troy reminded me.
“Right,” I said
The next afternoon, I called my neighbor, Lori Mone, and I remember from past experiences that she is very hard to get a hold of. I chose to call her now because she should be off work. The phone started to ring and I was surprised because she answered on the third ring. “Hello,” I said, “Mrs. Mone?”
“Yes, this is she”
“Hi, it’s Mark, your neighbor”
“Oh yes I remember you is everything okay,” Lori asked.
“Yes everything’s fine Mrs. Mone,” I answered, “I was just wondering if I could have the dirt bike in the old barn near your house?”
“Oh yes of course, the old 125. I remember when it was still running.”
“Do you know if it still runs,” I asked excitedly.
“I don’t know about now, but when we put it away it did,” replied Mrs. Mone.
“Great, are you sure it’s ok for me to take it,” I asked just to make sure.
“Yes help yourself,” she said
“Cool, thanks a lot,” I said excitedly
“Any time Mark, good bye now”
“Bye Mrs. Mone, and thanks again,”
I couldn’t wait my very own bike. Troy was on his way and we might ride together at last.
Several minutes later, Troy arrived and he had ratchet straps in the bed of his truck. I hopped in and we started off to the barn. Luckily the trail was just big enough to get his truck back to the barn and when we got to it I showed him where to back his truck up and before we knew it the bike was strapped down in his truck and we were ready to roll.
“Are you sure it’s not going to go anywhere,” I asked him nervously.
“I’m sure, I strap my bike down like this all the time,” Troy replied calmly.
We got to his house about ten after three and my mom was going to be home any minute. Luckily she knows when I’m not home I’m at Troy’s but what she doesn’t know is that I’m at Troy’s with my very own dirt bike.
We unloaded the bike into his garage and he said, “Yep, it really is a 125 like your neighbor said, and I’m sure it’s a Yamaha. The only thing I don’t know for sure is the year. I think it’s a 1995 or so.”
“Yamaha, so yz right,” I asked unsure.
“Yep, it’s a 1995 yz125,” Troy said staring at his touch screen table t.
“Okay,” Troy said, “let’s start with the basics, start taking off the seat, that’s where the air filter should be. I will start to drain the transmission fluid so we can put new stuff in.”
I unscrewed the two bolts holding the seat on. I slid it forward to unlatch it and picked up on the seat to remove it. What I saw was not what I wanted to see. The air filter was not much of an air filter anymore but it was a home to three mice.
“Troy,” I said, “I think I’m going to need a new air filter.”
“Ya, it sure looks like it, Mark,” said troy laughing.
“Lets run to the store,” said Troy, “so far we need an air filter, transmission fluid, and it wouldn’t be a bad idea to invest in some new tires, those ones look pretty dry rotted to me. You don’t need them now but they will come in handy later.”
We got to the cycle place about twenty minutes before they closed and the employee knew where everything was that we needed so we were in and out in a flash. And it fit my budget too. I even got my first can of oil. Troy said he will show me how to mix it with gas later.
“It shouldn’t be long until we get the bike running, right Troy,” I asked.
“Not long at all if this is all we need,” said Troy
When we got back to troy’s house, it wasn’t ten minutes until we had the new air filter in and the transmission fluid changed.
“Alright,” Troy said, “I’ll give you some of my gas mix for now until I show you how to do that.”
Troy and I took turns kicking the bike to try to get it to start after about an hour of trying this we just about gave up for the day. I’ll take you home maybe we can try again another day. The ride home was full of disappointment, not a word said by either of us. How could this day get any worse, my dream bike sitting in my friend’s garage and it doesn’t even start.
Troy dropped me off; we said our goodbyes and Troy left. As I walk through the front door, at that moment my day suddenly got worse.
“Mark,” my mom said, “we need to talk.”
“After work I went to the grocery store and do you know who I ran into,” my mom asked.
My stomach sank. “No mom, who did you see,” I asked in a low, soft voice even though I knew who she saw.
“Mrs. Mone, Mark, and she told me that she gave you an old dirt bike that was in that falling apart barn. So where is it now,” my mom asked in a demanding voice.
“Troy’s,” I replied with an even more soft voice.
“Mark I’m not mad because you have it,” my mom said, “I’m mad because you went behind my back went into that barn that you could have got he hurt in, and took the bike without me knowing.”
“I was going to tell you mom, I was.”
“When, Mark, when, twenty years from now,” my mom said.
I sat in silence.
“Go to your room for the rest of the night and give me your cell phone, I’m canceling your plan,” my mom ordered.
The next morning, while I was eating breakfast, my mom walked over to me. “Mark,” she said, “I shouldn’t have been so harsh on you. I know you really wanted a dirt bike.” My mom explained.
“It’s okay mom, I should have never went behind your back I’ll never do it again,” I said.
“I am going to take your phone away because you did go behind my back, but I’ll take you to Troy’s house on my way to work so you can work on your new bike, just promise me to never go behind my back to do anything ever again.”
“Okay mom, I won’t, I promise.”
I go to Troy’s at about quarter to eight and Troy was waiting for me in his garage and when I went in I told him how my mom found out about the bike and how I got my phone taken away.
Troy understood but couldn’t comprehend how I only got my phone taken away.
“So, want to try to kick it some more,” Troy asked.
“You bet cha’,” I said
Today after about a half of an hour of kicking the bike Troy suggested trying to jump start it. Troy put the bike in first gear, held in the clutch, and started running down his driveway. He jumped on the bike and dumped the clutch it started to start then bogged down. He started going even farther down his driveway and Troy did the same thing but this time the bike did something different.
I couldn’t see Troy anymore but I could hear the screaming of my bike. It sounded like a dream that I never had, and one that I’ll never forget.