The heat could be felt, slowly rising from the hot black tar. The houses on either side sat solemnly as the sun beat down mercilessly on the empty culdesac street.

Besides the occasional cry of a crow and the soft clicks of cicadas, the street was baron. House after house seemed to be locked away…not a soul in sight. Nothing except for a young brown boy, no older than 5, circling the light grey driveway of a red-bricked house. His face was locked in concentration.
His brows furrowed and his tongue sticking out of his little mouth, his hands grasping the handles of a little blue bike. With each push of his feet, the bike lurched forward. But it didn’t go far before it’d wobble to one side forcing him to quickly stick a foot out to stop himself from falling.

The afternoon’s effort at riding his bike without his training wheels seemed to be an effort that would take more time than he thought. Sweat began to drip from his eyebrow as he turned back at the training wheels he had muscled off himself, not an hour before. He angrily bit his cheek as he remembered why he did, to begin with.
He wanted to play with the older kids. He dreamt of it all day as he waited for them to pass his front yard with primal yells and mischievous laughs.
Mum wouldn’t let him…too little she said.
But she didn’t understand…all he wanted to do was to be out there. To ride with them, to pedal at furious speeds down the hill two streets away. To stream through magpie territory, narrowly escaping the divebombing gangsters that reigned hells fury at anyone that came near their nest. He wanted to let the hot summer air slide away as the strong wind of speed replaced it.
He wanted to feel older…less helpless… less weak.

He looked back at the front window. Ma was standing there. Her sleeves were rolled up, her hair tight in a bun. The glasses, on her face slightly askew.

“Please be careful!”
She yelled. “I’m going to be in the kitchen so you’ll have to come inside soon ok?”

Her voice rang out into his ears. He furrowed his eyebrows but nodded yes. She didn’t seem too convinced but slowly she stepped away and disappeared out of sight.

He was alone again. No one in the street. No one watching over him. He let out a deep breath and pushed his feet onto the pedals, hoping to get one last effort to ride.

Suddenly, laughter broke the still air. Not too soon after, whooping and yelling streaked into the street. They were followed by the screeching of bike tyres that stopped onto a driveway nearby.
The little boy’s head snapped up as he watched a gang of older boy’s stop at the house opposite to his. They surrounded themselves around a water tap. One boy in a fading black shirt and long brown hair threw his bike down and opened up the tap.
A gush of water splattered on the ground as he cupped his hands beneath it and brought it to his mouth. One by one each of the boys followed. They washed their face and their knees as they stuck their necks out to whatever breeze might pass through. It wasn’t long for them to step back and continue their laughter.

The long brown-haired boy jumped back on his bike and straddled it between his legs as he laughed and poked fun at his comrades.
They all joined in as their front tyres edged around, forming a circle.

IN the distance the little brown boy watched on. His eyes never lost contact as he longfully gazed at the freedom they had. Their shirts were matted and old, the tap’s water spread over all over their front. Their shorts and shoes grass-stained and worn down. Their faces grinning with brown smudges and the occasional thin scratch…probably from whatever bush they had stolen berries from earlier that day.
Mum wouldn’t have let him out like that, the Boy thought. If she had ever seen him in that state, she’d grab him by the ear and drag him inside, forcing him to endure the heavy scrub and harsh cold water that would make him squeaky clean.
She wouldn’t ever let him ride.

He let out a deep sigh and bent his head over the handlebars. He gritted his teeth and tried once again to push off. It didn’t take long for a yell in his direction to break his effort.

His head shot up. The 5 boys were riding over to the mouth of his driveway. They were so quick and must’ve noticed the creak and push his efforts.

“Whatcha dooin,” the brown-haired boy snickered.
He had a toothy grin that looked happy but his eyes had a flicker of nastiness.

The Little Boy said nothing. His lower lip dropped slightly and softly panted from the effort of trying to stable his bike. His gaze never dropped from the leader’s eyes.

“I think he’s tryna ride,” chuckled a pudgy one to his right.

Slowly the beady eyes of their leader locked onto the bike.

“Yea, I think it’s his first time as well…I usually see ‘im with ‘is mummy helping him with those training wheels,” The wiry boy at the back of the pack spoke up.
He nodded passed the brown boys head to the little black training wheels dumped behind him.

The little brown boy furrowed his eyebrows and felt his teeth grit. Ma did help him, but he thought no one could see…he hoped no one could at least. She would watch him from the garage door and yell out for him to be careful, making sure that he didn’t venture out onto the road…he was never allowed on the road.

“Awww little boy can’t ride without mummy to help him aye?” Pestered a voice.

The group snickered in unison…all except their leader, his wicked face still locked on.

“Well you know that’s no way to learn…you cant stay on this nice safe driveway,”

His voice was steady but baiting. His eyes never lost contact.

He nudged the boys around him and motioned them to move out of the way. The rolled their bikes back between their legs and created a path up the middle.

As their smiles leered down on to him. The leader spoke up again.

“You’re not scared are you?” he asked.

The little brown boy hesitated. His eyes never blinking nor breaking contact. A moment passed as a rare gust of wind swept through.

Slowly he shook his head.

A wicked grin tore open on his face.

“Prove it…go down the road, as fast as you can,”

The little brown boy had no response. His hands whitened as they tightened around the handlebars. He dropped his gaze for a moment and turned his head to the window behind him.

Ma wasn’t there anymore. But the window was still wide open. He could see her figure in the distance…a pot attached to her hip and what looked like an apron floating behind her.

“Looking for mummy to help?” Piped up the pudgy boy. “…maybe he doesn’t have the guts,”
Another set of laughs broke out.

The little brown boys head snapped back, this time determination in his eyes. His foot struck the lead peddle of his bike and he edged forward through the group of boys. He could smell sweat and dirt as he passed by them one by one.
The pudgy one smelt like old cheese and he could see his yellow teeth as he made his way passed their leader.

“There we go…. now it’s not too hard, just push off and pedal,” The leader’s his voice made it sound like a taunt. His grin still cascading down at him as he edged to the hot black road beyond the driveway.

Slowly the little brown boy crept onto the road. He circled his bike around and faced it down the street. The slope of it seemed to be daunting…almost dangerous.

“Whatchu waiting for!” the pudgy boy’s voice sneered.

With a sudden flash of anger and frustration, he pushed off.

He could hear the whoops and jeers of the gang behind him. But as he gathered speed they started to fade away. A wind picked up as he rode down and with each push of the pedal, the flow of the bike became easier and easier. Any noise that seemed to have come from the crowd seemed to fade away. His legs were working, his face fierce with determination…until the pedalling became easy…way too easy.

The speed was too much. The little brown boy’s face changed from determination to joy and then to fear as he realised he couldn’t control the bike. He panicked…the breaks seemed to be completely absent from him as he started to breathe faster and heavier. The curb at the end of the street came closer and closer.
There was a swift movement of panic as the boy’s feet slipped off the pedals and skated the road in an effort to slow down.
Finally, some sense seemed to get into his head as he grasped down on the handlebar brake.
It was too late. The front tyre of the little blue bike buckled against the curb and tipped over. There was a yelp and a hard thump and crunch as he hurled over in a heap onto the grass. The bike skated to a halt in front of him.
His eyes fluttered open. The whoops stopped as wicked jeers of laughter broke the still summer air. He could see the group howling as their leader stood still. He couldn’t see from a distance…but he knew that same wicked grin was slathered on his face.

He closed his eyes to brace the stings of pain that sprung from his knees and chin.
Tears began to fill his eyes as he curled up to deal with the pain. His lip quivered as he could taste blood from a cut that had opened up.

The noise seemed to stop…but the soft buzz of some nearby flies still rang. He opened his eyes, his head still on the ground.

The group had dispersed…in what seemed to be panic.

They spread off in different directions as a figure was hurtling towards him. A big mass of black hair waving behind its head…and what looked like an apron whipping behind it.

His eyes closed again as the figure came closer.
Within moments he felt a soft hand on his arm and down his face. The hand was warm…he could smell some unknown spices as it touched his lip.
Slowly some fingertips wiped the tears away. He felt himself being hoisted up and his head finding comfort on a soft neck.
The slow hiccupping of sobs seemed to find there way out as a hand patter his back. There was a movement that seemed to stoop over, seemingly to pick something up.

A couple of moments passed as the steady pace trudged up the road.

The little brown boy’s eyes fluttered open.

His soft cries and sobs slowly continued as he peeped at what was behind him. He looked down and saw the little blue bike, grasped firmly in a hand, softly bumping the hip of an apron.

He turned his face towards his mother’s neck. He felt the tears from his eyes bunch upon his cheek and rub against her skin.
Then he felt what seemed to be sweat on his neck. He looked up and passed her chin where tears were now streaming.

She let out a short sniff before gazing into his eyes.

“I told you not to go out on the road,” she whispered.

A sense of guilt seemed to wash over him as he nestled back into her neck, his sobs stifling any kind of apology he could make.

He felt her lips kiss his head as they continued up the road, the little blue bike still firmly in her grasp.