a warm Sunday

[flowerisexist]

I went to the forest on my bike. It was warm, I didn't need gloves. So it was okay I forgot to take them. I cycled ten miles. That's for you Bill, I mean, in miles, in km it was 18. I know you will convert it anyway though, more precise.
I didn't race, sooner I was circling slowly in the forest thinking about some people I met over Skype. They all were from Great Britain. With all of them I only had one chat. Well, maybe with the last I will chat some day on MSN. First man asked for the picture and cancelled sending his when I refused to send mine. It wasn't a chat like a nice, friendly chat. It was something like giving away some information about himself, pressed in short expressions but fully enough. It was like he wanted to tell about himself everything like there would not be another chance. But I liked some of his questions, probably he could be a good friend. But next time I saw him online he didn't say hello, neither did I. Talking to a man online is just like dating, a man supposed to say hello first, if he doesn't it probably means he's not interested, so no one woman who respects herself won't try to get man's attention in this case. That's my opinion. Then I met another Brit, who did send his two pictures and, AND DIDN"T ask for mine! Isn't it just a sensation? LOL I can't say it was something funny chatting with him. Are all Brits too serious? He didn't say hello to me next time we both were online on Skype. I wondered why but then I remembered his words : So I may not see you soon? Then I'll leave it up to you then. Probably he meant ME to say him hello. Okay. I only had to run away as there were just perverts and Turkish online. But Turkish are the most perverts, along Egyptians of course. But the latter at least can sing and just more polite. And today I again met a man from the UK. I bet he had something Turkish in his profile, or maybe I was wrong...Maybe I was a little hard on him saying that I don't stand all these u, i, wanna, gonna because it spoils English. And he pointed out that every sentence must end with a full stop, what I was not doing either. But what made me laugh that was his comment for my picture in profile. He called it "nice nose ona snow day" . hahaha It just made me laugh and I can't help smiling now.
So I was riding and wondering about all three Brits and thinking how much I want to get to the UK to study. And some my thoughts were sad, because of Greydragon, if he could know that I miss him. If my another friend could guess how much I miss him too and that my pride doesn't let me write him and ask how's life...
Cycling in the forest is SOMETHING! Paths were slippery with mud and bumpy because of knobby pine roots. It just made it better. As I circled time after time some parts of paths became just too slippery to ride through, my bike was skidding so that I hardly kept myself on. It was adrenalin rush in my blood :-)))
Though we had two days of snow earlier, now there were no signs of snow in the forest. It was damp, brown with wet foliage. The forest looks this way in spring. Just in spring the sky is high and blue. Today it was low and grey, neither a winter's one, nor spring's.
What I didn't like after that all riding was to clean my shoes! My yak leather shoes, my favourite ECCO shoes. Of course they are also just nice to be worn in such weather, but to clean them after all that mud glued to their soles was something terrible! And my bike needs washing also!

the story continues

2

“I tell you, Captain Adams, there’s a young one. If we didn’t need a fireman to get to Skagway, the two of them would have jumped overboard.”
Sven leaped into the coal bin when he heard the harsh voice. From behind the coal pile he watched Lt. Castner and two other men enter the furnace room.
“That’s strange. There’s no one here,” the gray haired, stocky ship’s captain said.
“Are you sure he was a Negro?” Lt. Castner asked.
“Like I told Captain Adams, first evening out I found a boy hiding on deck. He disappeared and I haven’t seen him since.”
“You must be blind, Lieutenant. He crawled past you after I kicked him. Then his daddy, the one I saw stealing, came up. When he saw us he jumped overboard.”
“With your and and your friends’ knives prodding him,” Lt. Castner said. “I know what I saw.”
Sven bit his lip when he heard, and tears welled up in his eyes. He wished Jefferson had listened to him.
“That’s done, Gentlemen. I’m captain here. If Jefferson sneaked his son aboard and was stealing, he deserved what he got. I hired one fireman, and someone stoked this fire all night, every time I rang the bell.” The ship’s captain peered into the dark coal bin. “Come out of there.”
Sven hesitated and prayed. He brushed tears from each cheek as he stood up.
“There he is, like I said.” The man who had kicked Sven pointed over the captain’s shoulder. “Come here, nigger boy.”
The three men stared as Sven, black from hair to heel, stepped from the coal bin.
“What’s your name?”
“His name is Sven Johanson, Captain,” Lt. Castner said.
“I never saw a Negro with blue eyes like his, nor one whose tears washed the black away.” He reached down and pulled up Sven’s trouser leg. “Certainly not one with white legs.”
“B’gory. I’ll be a bowlegged monkey. A white boy trying to be black. Bet he’s the one I saw stealing our first day out from Seattle,” the rib-kicker said.
“I never stole anything,” Sven said. “I was hiding from Lieutenant Castner.”
“That is true,” Lt. Castner said. “I accidentally discovered his hiding place. We talked and then he disappeared.”
“How about it, Boy? Sven is it?” Capt. Adams asked. “Is that true?”
“Yes, Sir.” Sven told the captain how Jefferson helped him and more tears welled up in his eyes.
“Are you crying for Jefferson?” Lt. Castner asked.
“Yes, Sir. He was kind to me, and now he’s dead.” Sven stifled a sob.
“I’m not so sure he drowned. I saw him swimming.”
The rib-kicker laughed cruelly. “He’d never make it. The water is too cold.”
“Forget Jefferson. I need a fireman until we dock in Haines,” Capt. Adams said. “I’ll call that your fare. After that you are on your own. How old are you?”
“Eighteen,” Sven lied. His blackened face hid the red flush of his cheeks as Lt. Castner stared at him.
“You sure are puny,” the captain said. “If you had more muscle I would hire you until we arrive back in Seattle.”
“Captain,” Lt. Castner said, “don’t forget that we have exploring to do after we leave Haines.”
“I know, Valdez and Prince William Sound. Good old Uncle Sam will pay me well for that. Get to work, Sven.”
“B’gory,” the rib-kicking miner swore. “Ain’t we going to Skagway?”
“No,” Capt. Adams said, “the army hired this boat. You may find another way to Skagway or stay on board to Valdez.”
“B’gory. There’ll be trouble when the men hear this.” The miner stamped from the boiler room.
“Don’t worry, Captain,” Lt. Castner said, “the army is on your side. Sven, you can turn around at Haines and head for home.”