This picture of Daffy and Blue standing side by side has been in my computer for more than a month. I snapped it the morning after the accident. That was nearly five weeks ago, and to date, I've not had the confidence nor the courage to write about it, not until now.
An accident is an accident is an accident.
There are no words to mince when it comes to incidents like these.
It does not matter that the Co-Rider did not fly off the bike from the vehicle's impact but merely fell straight down on to the gravel road. and got away with nothing more than a sore shoulder, a bruised forearm and a big abrasion near the elbow.
It does not matter that the Co-Rider did not injure any other part of the body, not even the head, and that within half an hour, against my nagging advice, hopped back on the bike and rode all the way back home.
It is still a d*** f**ked-up scary s*** incident to happen, and I'm not going to water the incident down in any other way.
You know how people say that everything seems to slow down when traumatic s*** happens?
That at that very moment when it takes place, it seems to be unreal, that it is not happening to you, that it seems to be happening at a distance away, or that it seems to be unfolding in front of you as if you were watching it take place in a movie?
IT IS TRUE..
IT IS VERY, VERY TRUE.
Otherwise, how does one explain the fact that after five weeks, I can still easily relate to you what it was precisely that happened, and I can still spell it out for you moment by moment- from the time that I saw the back of the car appear so close in front of me, to the time when I saw my Co-Rider sitting red-eyed and dazed on the road?
We had been on our way back, heading down Dunearn Road from Woodlands Road. For the entire afternoon, we'd chugged our way up to the Woodlands Jetty via Sengkang, Ang Mo Kio, Lentor Avenue and Yishun, and it was already evening when we made our way back past Marsiling and Woodlands Road.
Was it because we were tired?
I don't think so.
Was it because these things just happen?
I don't know.
But we were passing by Turf Club Road near where the stables used to be, my Co-Rider was a short distance in front of me, when suddenly this vehicle turned out from Turf Club Road, but instead of trying to turning into the last lane, as I suppose one is usually meant to do, he tried to cut three lanes to the first, and that was when his right headlight hit my Co-Rider.
I saw it.
I saw how the car made the turn, saw how the right side of the car lined up exactly in the same position that my Co-Rider was biking along, saw that the right headlight illuminated him perfectly, figured out what was happening, and screamed.
Just at the very moment that he dropped off the bike and sat there on the gravel road.
It is at times like these when instinct takes over and you just do what you're supposed to do. You know, it's funny, but if you were to ask me what it is precisely I did, and why I did it, I wouldn't know. And if you were to ask me whether or not I was doing the right thing, I wouldn't know either!
I guess I didn't stop to think.
I just moved.
First I placed Daffy carefully on the ground- no use throwing the bike down- signalled the oncoming traffic at the traffic light to wait, guided my Co-Rider to the roadside kerb, did a quick check, shifted our bikes to the side, did a more thorough check some more and followed it up with the discussion and recuperation.
Let's just say that the discussion went smooth.
We hung about the area for half an hour, breathing, washing the scrape with water, blotting it with tissue paper and putting on a plaster. Co-Rider checked the bike, adjusted the bike chain, determined Blue was good and clear, and hopped back on him for the ride home.
Of course, a scrape is a scrape, so out came the Betadine, the big plasters and the muscle rubs but hey, the two bikes were standing steadily side by side in the morning, with their owners a little shaken but yesh, also okay.