Pillion

James Grinton was one of the smartest kids I knew. He knew how to handle people and how to get things done. If he wanted something, you could be sure that he’d get it. This included the hardest scholarships and acceptance into the most elite universities. He was focused, and he had a good future ahead of him. That isn’t to say that he didn’t do a lot of stupid shit. Especially when fun was involved, or when others were watching. Still, if you asked me at the time, I never would have told you I thought his life was going to be over before he graduated.

Nowadays, when I see the boys from time to time, it’s clear we’re all still shaken up by the whole thing. We speak with hesitations, awkwardly avoiding any mention of the event like an acrobat struggling to hold balance on a tightrope.

I feel partly responsible for what happened. It started like this: the beginning of spring; flowers blooming and most of us getting our motorcycles out of the garage and back on the streets. It was my favourite time of the year with warm months ahead and our bikes ready to go. Riding was a big part of who we were; it brought us together, gave us freedom and something to look forward to. Of course, safety was the only concern. That’s why a guy like James didn’t ride. It wasn’t him but rather his parents. Only, now it was different. By spring of our Grade 12 year, he was finally old enough to get his license on his own. So we told him so.

“You know James, this is the year. You ready to join us?” I ask him.

“Yeah,” butted in Ethan. “Get your license! It’s going to be a fun summer.”

Just like any school day, we were sitting around outside at lunch. There were maybe five of us. I stood leaning against a tree, smoking a cigarette. James didn’t smoke, that smart bastard. He really had a bright future ahead of him. To this day I still smoke, burning through packs like I’m not going to make it to next year. I’ve always got too much on my mind.

“You know what?” James finally broke in, after pondering for a little while. “I think I will.” That was really all it took. “I’m old enough now and got the money. Kate, you can even come along on some rides from time to time.”

She leaned in closer to him, gave a shy smile. “You know I’m scared of bikes,” she told him playfully.

“It’s okay baby,” said James. “You’ll be safe in my hands.” He wrapped his arms around her waist, gave her a kiss.

Kate was my childhood friend. I’ve known her ever since Kindergarten. Now, she was James’ girlfriend. They’d been together for a few months, and they were really quite the couple. I couldn’t think of anyone who had more promising futures than the two of them. For what James had in academics, Kate had in athletics. Ballet was her forte, and her body was a temple, connecting us to a higher power whenever she performed. She was so graceful-- her choreographies practiced everyday, to perfection. She already had the eyes of thousands, dancing on an expert level at eighteen years old.

Aside from that, I remember how she was when we were younger. There was always a smile on her face, a passion for whatever it was we were doing. From playground tag to dance, and everything in between. Really, a lot had changed since then. Only in other ways, it still felt the same; we were still young. Wide eyed and rambunctious, we still had our whole lives ahead of us.

* * *

It was only a few weeks later when James had passed his Learner, then his New Driver. Both tests: flying colours. He really had a power when he set his mind to something.

We were in the Walmart parking lot. It was the perfect place to learn; a big open space, no cars on the road. We all gave James some pointers, and he took to it like a natural. The car he drove was manual, so I guess it wasn’t too hard.

“Plus, I’ve ridden dirt bikes as a kid,” he reminded us. Funny, I never knew that.

Soon all eyes were on him, watching him mess around. He gave the bike a big pull, lifting the front wheel up, holding onto a decent wheelie. He had no control over his landing, but it didn’t matter; there was endless room for error. It was here where we all learned to ride.

I looked over to Kate, and saw the excitement in her eyes. She was filming the whole thing with his phone. I remember seeing it on his Instagram story by the end of the day.

It was something alright; he was on a brand new sportbike-- Yamaha R6, that’s 600cc: no slow learning for a beginner! We all rode that size, some faster, so I guess he just wanted to keep up. The way it was for me: more than half my money was spent on gear, and so I ended up with a much shabbier bike-- an older, outdated model. He did things his own way. Telling him would make no difference, I told myself.

“Besides, a helmet’s all you need,” he said to me. By law, it was true.

* * *

Later that night, We all went downtown to watch Kate in a ballet performance she’d been working on for months; Alice in Wonderland, to be exact, and she was playing Alice.

We rode down on our bikes. Crossing the bridge was always the highlight; I could catch an occasional glance at the city lights while I cruised through but mainly had to keep my eyes on what lay ahead. Still, it was a breathtaking feeling. It was nice to have James along for the ride. Just watching him accelerate away from a red light, I could tell how much fun he was having. Riding like this on a clear night with all your buddies, headed to a ballet performance that meant a lot to us and Kate, it really didn’t get much better than this. It’s funny how I never realized this back then.

We were all there, at the theatre. Sure, she was his girlfriend, but she was also a great friend of ours. Even some of our teachers were there. That didn’t stop us from goofing around just a little. What could you say? Like I said, we were still young.

“Look!” hollered Joseph. “I’m a ballerina.” He did a little twirl on one foot, losing his balance and falling to the side.

Ethan and I tossed popcorn at each other catching it with our mouths; we even were so sophisticated as to keep a score (I beat him: 5 - 3). James sat pretty still, and I could appreciate him trying to show his girl that he took this seriously.

“Come on guys, show some respect,” he told us. Then the lights dimmed and the show started and we all went quiet.

The performance was magical. The movements of the dancers were beautiful; so elegant and gentle yet such a complicated choreography. It could only be the result of meticulous planning and endless practice. Myself? I wasn’t what you’d call “fit”. So the way Kate lept through the air as if she was constantly floating, slid en pointe like an ice skater, or pirouetted for so long that I felt I was being hypnotized-- it all took me out of this world. The performers? They weren’t just dancers, they were storytellers.

I never got so much out of Alice in Wonderland watching the movie or reading the book, but this was different. It put a special feeling inside me; a deep appreciation for the human body and what it could achieve. I was sitting there in complete awe and wonder.

“Ain’t I the luckiest motherfucker on earth?” breathed James so quietly I could barely hear. I slowly exited my trance, pulling myself back down to earth.

“Sure are,” I whispered back. Our eyes stayed fixated on the show.

“God, I wish I could just freeze this moment in time-- keep it as a souvenir or something, you know? I’d come back here, to this place, and remind myself that everything’s going to be okay.”

At that we hushed, sitting back and allowing the live orchestra to take over. The sounds carried Kate along, paying attention to every movement, down to the bone.

James would say things like that, only I had to question how much he really meant it, how much we all meant it. We’d experience something so great then forget about it the next day, our hyperactive minds fiending the next thing.

That night was a special night, and I hope we all remembered it so. I never got to see Kate perform again. Damn shame.

* * *

It was May 12th, 2005 when it happened. First, there was the news. The day started out so great, you would have never thought anything could go wrong. James received an acceptance letter to Stanford and Berkeley, both on the same day. Some luck that was!

“But really, it’s because you deserve it,” I told him.

“Thanks,” he said. “I really appreciate it.” He probably had said that a lot that day, and he probably felt like he was on top of the world.

Kate was by his side, sharing his joy with him and revelling in her own accomplishments, having just wrapped up her final performance of Alice in Wonderland.

We were ready for the world; all we had left was final exams.

It was a Friday, and so we ended the long week with a ride. Squamish was our destination. The Sea to Sky Highway was a true beauty and I knew we were all going to have a blast. I was excited for James to learn the joy we all felt.

We met up at our usual spot, just right next to our high school. A little time had passed, and we were just waiting on James. Finally he arrived, only he had a passenger along with him.

“Sorry I’m late guys,” James told us. “I had to pick up Kate.”

“Hey guys,” she said, hyped as hell to be coming along. Her and James were just so happy.

All Kate had on for gear was a helmet; I think James had just bought it for her. It was hot outside, so in a way I could understand her choice to wear a t-shirt and jean shorts, but really, it was no way to ride on a motorcycle. Even, and almost especially, as a passenger. A passenger on the infamous Sea to Sky Highway.

I didn’t say anything, and I struggle with that everyday. Often nights I lay in bed, staring at the blank ceiling, wondering about how it could have turned out different if maybe I did.

The ride started out great. We got onto the highway, accelerating like demons as we merged. We kept our speeds controlled. We had to get through West Vancouver to pass the common speed traps and besides, we always liked to warm up at first, see how the group was riding as a whole.

It wasn’t until later that we got a little snappy. This happened by the time we passed Lions Bay. First Ethan and Joseph whizzed past me, so I followed suit. We had a long straight ahead of us, perfect to feel the bike’s power. I leaned forward, feeling the wind fight my body off the bike. I always held on, all my focus on what was ahead of me.

Then, that unforgettable feeling of dread settled in. They had been a couple bikes back and so I forgot all about them. It was the moment he sped past me with Kate on the back that I felt it. I looked down at my speedometer and read 280km/hr. It was a terrible dread, fearing something that seemed almost inevitable, and now I was powerless to stop it.

Just after they passed me she began to fall back. Her hands had lost their hold around James’s waist, so the wind intercepted her with no mercy. It took a strong hold. She dangled off the back of the motorcycle as James only continued to push the bike, completely unaware. Only her feet held on.

Then she was free, and that weightless feeling must have taken him by surprise and so he turned to look back. He only had a second to stare before returning his attention to what lay ahead, so he missed most of her tumble. Perhaps he watched from the mirror. For me however, I watched it all. I watched her body get destroyed. It didn’t matter how fast we were going; I watched it in slow motion.

She landed on her back, and so it was the first part of her body to be ground by the asphalt like a cheese grater, after a couple bones snap. Bare hands braced the 300km/hr fall, fingers shredding to stubs as fast as they could. Then she flipped onto her stomach.

Her sneakers flew off-- she didn’t even have socks on. A few toes gone. The same ones that, only a few days ago, stood en point, or held a pirouette.

Finally, she’d stopped. I pulled onto the shoulder as fast as I could, ran towards her as fast as I could. She didn’t move. I wasn’t sure if it was because she was dead or unable to, neither was I sure which one was worse. I stopped upon her body feeling nothing but the deepest sorrow. Everything James had loved was now spread across the pavement, her body mangled so that it hardly resembled a human. I called 9-11, but didn’t bother to say, it’s all going to be okay.

When James finally ran to, he was screaming and shaking. He bent down over her, knowing better not to touch her. He tried to look into her eyes, but her visor was still shut. It was a chrome mirror, sparkling in the spring sunlight. It showed James nothing but his own reflection, and so he was left staring back at his own perfect, pretty face.