It probably wasn’t fair to end yesterday’s post with such a cryptic hint of dread. But, as I said, the first half of my bike ride had been so nice that –at the time — I only wanted to write about the pleasant stuff. I didn’t even want to THINK about the frightful events that occurred on the second half of my ride. It was too soon to put myself through the trauma of re-living those events and then writing about them. And I sure didn’t want to put you folks through the trauma of having to read about them. Plus, it was dinner time and I was hungry. I can’t write under that kind of pressure.
Luckily my frazzled nerves have calmed down enough this morning to be able to finish the story. As I sit at my laptop trying to reconstruct yesterday’s happenings in my mind, shivers are STILL running down my spine. I find it necessary to warn my readers in the 6-to-14-year-old age group that some of the content might be highly distressing. If you start having nightmares as a result of what you are about to read, please seek counseling from your parents, a trusted adult, a priest or minister, or a psychologist.
As you may recall, yesterday’s chapter ended with The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong taking a nap on the frozen surface of Spring Lake. That’s where this tale picks up. The following events are true and my descriptions of them are exactly how I remember them in my imagination.
I had an inner feeling that something horrible was out there. In a panic, I raced off the snowy ice to check on The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong. “Hey, dude, I think it’s time to get off the ice,” I shouted from the top of the levee.
“What’s the hurry,” replied my bike, telepathically.
“I just think we should be moving on. This place is giving me the creeps.”
Together, we rode on and for the next several miles I felt some rebelliousness . . . and RECKLESSNESS. Until my bike stopped to look at a real live monster I thought The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong was just a name.
I managed to steer The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong away from that dangerous situation, only to have him lead me to the next steely monster.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, we came across the tallest, meanest creature I had ever seen.
I managed to escape, but I had had enough of this crap. I handed my phone to The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong and said, “That’s it. You’re on your own from here. Take your pictures, fight your monsters, I don’t care. I’ll meet you at home.”
“Thank you,” the son-of-bike said, and he continued on his merry way.
As far as I can tell by piecing together his pictures and eyewitness accounts of what happened next, my bike came upon a most horrible congregation of fierce monsters. He never backed down an inch.
The carnivorous actions of those monsters eventually got to The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong’s sense of humanity. Eye witnesses can attest to the fact that my bike wanted nothing to do with such destruction. He wanted to get the hell out of there, but his escape was cut off by one of the guards. The following video, which was taken by The Reckless Mr. Bing Bong, is the last known evidence of his existence.