It’s the last Saturday of summer before the new school year starts. I’m feeling excited because it’s the last year of high school and I can’t wait to see all of my friends again especially my best friend whom I’ve missed all through summer since she and her parents went to America for vacation. I am enjoying the solitude and quiet of the gentle breeze, reading the latest book from K.A. Applegate, The One and Only Ivan, sitting under the only cypress tree in this tangerine grove. I was just getting into the tear inducing part when the silence was interrupted by the sound of a roaring engine. Tamtam, my brown mare gave a whiny protest, having woken up. She was tied up on the tree and was comfortably taking a nap but has now stood on all four legs and was looking at the direction from where the noise is coming from. I, too, strained to see what it is when all of a sudden a red motorcycle flew about 10 meters away from us. It careened off the dirt road and was probably caught on a root because I saw the rider and the bike separate with a force that made me think of the accident on the road I saw a year ago when the motorcycle rider was covered in blood and lifeless. My heart plummeted to the ground when I remembered that accident and I suddenly prayed to Buddha to not let me experience the horrifying scene again. I had nightmares for a month after that.

Gathering my courage, I ran to check if the rider is okay. He was lying on his back with his right hand holding his head and groaning when I reached him. “You’re alive!” I said, surprised and thankful at the same time. “Good! That’s good! Are you okay? Can you hear me? Of course you’re not okay… Oh God! There’s blood! Omo! Ottokae? What do I do? Breathe Dara… inhale, exhale…” I was panicking. “Don’t move!” I instructed although the guy lying on the ground has been immobile since I’ve approached him. The only indicator that he’s still alive is the groans that come from him.

I have been working as a volunteer at the marine shelter for 4 years now so this should be easy. I mean, how different can a boy be from a seal right? I knelt beside him and felt for his pulse. Strong heartbeat? Check. “Can you feel your legs? Do you have any broken bones or you feel pain?” I asked. 

He removed his right hand from holding his head and let it fall on his side. That’s when I saw the cut on the side of his forehead. Must be where that blood is coming from. “You’re bleeding” I said. “I need something to bind your cut.”

The guy has now opened his eyes and was attempting to stand up. “Don’t move the patient!” I hold him back down.

“I am the patient!” he said in a deep voice.

“Well, don’t move.” I began looking around for something that could make the bleeding stop when I absent-mindedly ran my sweaty palms on my shorts. That’s when I noticed my favourite pink crop top, ruined with blood stains. Urgh, just great! I thought to myself. An idea suddenly came to me and I started to take off my top which made the guy grin. 

“Am I in heaven?” he asked.

Great, I’m saving a ert. Thankfully, I’m also wearing a sleeveless shirt underneath. I decided to ignore him and instead tied my shirt around his forehead. “There” I pronounced. “Can you get up?”

I held out my hand but he ignored it and slowly stood up by himself. My, he’s tall. It’s like he’s a head taller than me. He then started dusting away his clothes and tentatively rolled his shoulders and stretched his legs. “Thank you” he said. He then noticed his bike, went to it and began to inspection the damage. 

He let out a curse and kicked the ground. 

“Is it busted?” I asked having walked to where he is.

“I blew up a tire” he answered, “plus I need to replace the side mirrors.”

“That’s a good thing then” I said which made him look at me with a scowl, like I was joking or something. “It could’ve been worse” I defended. “You could have died, you know…”

“Yeah, I guess …”

“What are you doing here anyway? This is private property you know. Didn’t you see the huge No Trespassing sign? And why were you riding so recklessly, without a helmet, if I may add. Do you have a death wish or something?”

“You know, I’m thankful you helped me but that doesn’t mean you can nag me...”

“I am not nagging” I protested with both of my hands on my hips which made me remind me of my mother when she’s scolding. I immediately crossed my arms in front of my chest. “I’m just a concerned citizen. What if you got me or Tamtam in danger? We weren’t that far when you and your bike decided to invade our privacy …”

“But I didn’t” he interrupted. He then picked up his bike and pushed it to lean on the nearest tangerine tree. He reached for the back pocket of his jeans and gave a groan.

“Are you okay?” I immediately followed him, thinking that he’s getting dizzy or something.

He showed me his phone and I see that the screen is cracked. “Not my lucky day” he said.

That’s an understatement, I thought to myself. “Wait here” I instructed and ran to get my things. I packed up my book, my ipod and half a bottle of water into my sling bag and untied Tamtamie. “Let’s go, girl” I pulled her and we walked over to where the guy is, now squatting and inspecting his bike for more damages.

I rummaged thru my bag and found my phone. “Here” I offered.

He mumbled thanks and proceeded to punch some numbers and turned away from me when he began talking to somebody on the other line.

I looked at the sorry state of his bike. It seemed brand new to me. I read the engraved brand name. Ducati. Hmmm, impressive. I know that it’s an expensive brand. The guy must be a rich tourist. Too bad it’s ruined now.

After his call, he gave me back my phone said thanks and turned to go. “Hey, where are you going?” I called. 

“Home” he answered without looking back. 

“What about your motorcycle?”

“I’ll pick it up later.”

The guy is mental, I concluded. He must still be out of it. Is he planning to walk home, wherever that is or probably try to hitch a ride? Nobody will pick him up looking the way he is. Come to think of it, he looked quite menacing with his piercing deep set eyes and brooding looks. I admit he still looked good looking despite of the dirt and blood on his face … Wait, Sandara. I think it’s you who’s gone mental. I chided myself. How can I think along that line of thought? I mentally shook away the image of the guy. It’s time for me to go home. The sun