Chapter 7: Bike Ride Lesson
A/N: The long-awaited chapter is finally here! I'm super sorry this came out a little longer than expected, but school got in the way. This is the longest chapter so far, and I worked very hard on it. Enjoy! 3
Barley: 10
Ian: 7
Barley burst into Ian's room and keenly but considerately shook him awake. "Ian! Ian! Wake up, brother!"
Ian, who was hugging his stuffed teddy bear close to his body, woke suddenly with an unpleasant expression. "What time is it, Barley?" His speech slurred.
"It's time for me to teach you how to ride a bike!"
Ian frowned. "Oh, yeah. That…"
Barley climbed on the bed and wrapped an arm around Ian's shoulders. "Hey, what's wrong? Aren't you excited?"
Ian stared down at Teddy, not entirely sure how he should respond. He was aware that his training wheels had to be taken off his bike at some point, but that day just came by so fast. It seemed like he had just received his bike on Christmas morning, which happened three years ago. His mother and brother recently told him that he was pretty much ready to ride the bike all on his own without the support of the little wheels since he just turned seven not too long ago. But of course, they had to ensure that he was ready. With that, well…
"Just yesterday, you told me that you were ready," Barley said. "I asked you, 'Ian, are you really sure that you are ready to take your training wheels off?', and you said, with confidence, 'Yes, big brother! I am totally ready!' Now you look like you are tense about this."
Ian anxiously played with his bear's ear. "I know I said that yesterday, but now I'm not so sure. I thought I was ready; I was filled with confidence. That confidence is gone now."
Barley sympathized with his little brother. Riding a bike for the first time should be an exciting time in one's life. He wasn't particularly nervous when his mother taught him how to ride one at age six, mainly because the thought of gaining some independence was spectacular to him. Ian, though, was as shaky as maracas. He really felt bad for the poor boy; he didn't like seeing him nervous like this.
Rubbing Ian's back, Barley said with a soft tone, "Buddy, it's okay if you don't want to practice today. We can just wait until you get comfortable."
Ian bit his lip, having second thoughts. When he first got his blue bike with the training wheels attached, his mother told him that the wheels were given a special purpose: to help guide him until they needed to be off. They were there for the boy to practice being on a bike and assist him with the common skills for bike riders, like balancing and such. Ian took note that he was very attached to the training wheels. They made the young boy feel comfortable whenever he took bike strolls with Barley. There was no point in being scared if Ian didn't have to worry about maintaining balance or anything like that. Without them, he would feel completely insecure and lost; losing those two wheels would be like taking away his bike as a whole, and he loved riding it. Sometimes, Ian imagined himself falling off, something that nobody likes. Getting injured was a greater spook; Ian hated the awful feeling of that. For the past few years of having his little bike, Ian's wheels led him everywhere in the neighborhood. His attachment to them grew to where he felt like they were permanent.
But they couldn't be. Although Ian loved his training wheels to death, he had to practice riding on his own. Every child advances to the next step when they no longer need their training wheels, whether they are fast learners, like his older brother, or slow learners, like himself. He was training at his own pace, so it took quite a while to get adjusted to his blue bike, even with the two extra wheels on. Before the bike, he rode Barley's old tricycle, which he had outgrown. So, when Ian was old enough to have a big boy bike, his mother and brother helped him get accustomed to it. And every bit of it counted. He thanked them so much for getting him where he was today. The two made bike riding one of Ian's favorite activities. The training wheels weren't just regular old ones. They were special ones given by his mother. But like all training wheels, they weren't meant to last forever. What was the point of owning a bike if he didn't know how to ride it? Laurel once informed him that "every baby bird learns to fly," a wonderful, meaningful message that could imply anything, including Ian's situation. If every baby bird can learn to fly, every boy and girl can and certainly learn to properly handle a bicycle. Being a young beginner, Ian was put up to the challenge… nervously.
"No, Barley," Ian finally answered. "I want to start learning. The sooner I begin riding my bike, the more that I'll become skilled with it like you are." He cranked up a smile after he mentioned his older brother.
Barley grinned. "Alright, little brother. I'll teach you today if you are positively sure you want to do this."
Ian gave him a definite nod. "I'm certain."
Barley's eyes glistened, ecstatic to finally teach Ian. "Okay. Let me give you time to get dressed." He walked out and gently closed the door behind him.
Ian picked out his outfit: a solid velvet t-shirt, blue jeans, and copper t-bar shoes. He would usually prefer short-sleeved or long-sleeved shirts, always tucked into his comfortable pants. The boy adored that style. His older brother also had his special style; the larger boy would sport t-shirts, shorts that came to his knees, and running shoes. Ian liked the way Barley dresses, as it fitted him. Ian bent down to buckle his shoes. He had been wearing those types of shoes when he was a baby; his mother would often dress him in those. Ian made his bed and covered Teddy with his blanket so he could stay warm and comfortable. He kissed him on the forehead fondly and walked to the bathroom to use the toilet, brush his teeth, and wash his face.
When Ian climbed downstairs, Barley was already next to the front door, looking eager as ever.
"Are you ready, Ian?" he asked.
"Yeah, I'm ready."
The boys were ready to head out the door, but their mother just so happened to stop them dead in their tracks with the sound of her throat clearing.
"Boys? Aren't you forgetting something?" Her arms crossed, and she tapped her foot. Her body language showed seriousness, but she had a motherly smile plastered on her face.
"Uh…" Barley scratched his head.
"Breakfast?" she reminded, giggling at her oldest son's cluelessness.
It came to Barley. "Oh, yeah! Breakfast!"
"You certainly can't go out on an empty stomach."
Ian's stomach started to grumble as his mother brought up breakfast, the most important meal of the day. As a matter of fact, breakfast never came to his mind since he was so focused on beginning learning.
"What's for breakfast, Mom?" Barley asked as he made his way to the table.
"Porridge."
"Oooh, yummy!" Ian licked his lips.
"I'm quite famished," Barley commented.
"That's good because I made a big pot," Laurel said as she served the boys. She then sat down with her bowl of porridge and tasted a spoonful.
Her attention turned to her younger son. "Today's the big day, Ian!" She ruffled his hair with pride. "How do you feel, sweetheart?"
"Mostly nervous, but I'm a bit excited," he responded.
Barley gobbled down a great helping of his porridge before stroking Ian's back. "Don't be too nervous, buddy. I'm gonna guide you the whole way through, and then you will become spectacular at riding your bike."
"That's right, dear. Your big brother will do everything he can to help you succeed. And remember, you won't get this on the first try. Just do the best you can."
Blazey, who was curiously listening to the conversation, licked Ian's cheek, adding to Laurel and Barley's supportiveness.
Ian giggled, wiping the slobber off, and flashed an appreciative smile at both of his family members. With them on his side, getting the concept of bike riding wouldn't be all that bad. He saw the two as his new "training wheels," providing him comfort, safety, and protection. The one difference was that Laurel and Barley would always be around, unlike the temporary presence of his small wheels. It was very much impossible to stray away from his endearing family. He bound to them immensely.
Barley scarfed down his breakfast and asked his mother for seconds, while Ian barely finished half of it. Barley often completed meals before Ian, usually due to his somewhat big appetite, and Ian was a slow eater.
"You're asking for seconds?" Laurel filled up Barley's bowl. "I thought you were in a hurry to teach Ian."
"Oh, I am, but my tummy has room for more," he said.
Ian giggled. "Silly Barley."
Ian flinched as he intently watched Laurel take off the training wheels one by one. The pain would've been unbearable if it wasn't for his brother's sympathetic nature. His pudgy hand very gently went up and down his little back, attempting to console his baby brother, as he also witnessed the same scene, less distressed than Ian but still brimmed with grief for him. Losing the training wheels wasn't the worst thing in the world, but he was a very sensitive boy. He would cry at even the smallest of things, whether it was spilled milk or something getting lost in the house. A couple of weeks ago, one of Laurel's jewelry had gone missing, and Ian took the news not too well. According to his mom, she was perfectly fine finding it herself, yet Ian felt the need to oblige in something that was, indeed, not personally his. He practically searched through the entire house, every inch and corner of it. Shortly after, Laurel found it in a hard-to-reach place. The outcome pleased Ian and was even more so when Laurel was thankful for him pitching in. Regarding the current situation, it made his emotions flurry and his body tense, the young boy being nearly close to the brink of tears. However, he fought back crying, urging to be strong.
"Okay, Ian, say 'Bye, wheels,'" Laurel told him, setting the wheels on the ground.
Ian waved his hand at them. "Bye, wheels. I'm going to miss you." He stared at his beloved training wheels for a good bit, sad to see their fate, then at his bike. A funny feeling grew inside him once he saw it. Without the additional wheels, it looked slightly different and odd.
Laurel snuggled her tiny son, her plump arms squeezing carefully against him. "Oh, sweetie, they don't have to be gone forever."
Ian sniffled and wiped his nose with his arm. "R-really?"
"Yes, pumpkin. We'll keep these in a really safe place for happy memories."
He grinned ear to ear, clearly overjoyed to preserve them. "Where will we keep them?"
"In a box in the garage, so they can be protected. They won't get damaged there."
Ian embraced her legs. "Thank you so much, Mommy. Now I can see my training wheels whenever I want."
She brushed his hair with her hand. "You're absolutely welcome, my dear. Now, Barley, are you ready to teach him?"
"I so am, Mom," he said positively.
"Alright, I'll leave you to it." Laurel took the training wheels and walked away.
"Okay, Ian, before I actually teach you how to ride your bike, you need to learn the basics, like how to start and stop it."
"Okay, Barley," Ian simply said.
"Here, let me demonstrate on my bike." Barley climbed on his green bike. "To start your bike, you push your foot along the ground. You can use either your left or right foot. And while you use that foot, you put your other foot on the pedal." He did the exact actions as he explained. "Then, as the bike moves, you transfer the foot that's on the ground onto the other pedal, and you are good to go." Barley easily and gracefully pedaled the bike in a circle.
Ian examined his every move and ensured he hammered down every detail. His brother made bike riding so easy just by watching him. But Barley was already a master of handling a bike, so it didn't really give him too much shock. He strongly hoped he would get there very soon.
"Do you feel good enough to practice that, Ian?" Barley inquired.
"I… think so."
Barley massaged his younger brother's shoulder. "Take your time. You've got this."
Ian gulped loudly and walked to the bike, his legs wobbling like a bowl full of jello. With sweaty hands, he struggled to steady it upright. Because the training wheels weren't there to support its posture anymore, it was so unstable. For right now, this was hard work for him.
Barley, marking that his brother needed assistance, chuckled politely and held one of the handlebars. "Here, let me help."
"My bike sure is wobbly without training wheels," Ian mentioned.
"You'll learn how to get it straight someday, buddy," Barley said, watching Ian slowly get on the bike and helping him do it. "There we go. Are you comfortable?"
"Yes, but you will hold onto me, right? You will not let go?"
"Ian, I most definitely won't let you ride by yourself until you are fully ready. I promise," he claimed.
"Okay, big brother," Ian said, starting to calm down.
"You can start the bike when you're ready," Barley said.
Ian did several breathing exercises prior to gliding his small right foot across the pavement of the road, slowly and steadily. He went back and forth from gazing to his feet to looking at what was ahead of him while keeping track of how fast he was moving.
Doing good so far, he thought.
Building enough confidence, Ian pushed faster and was about to put his left foot on the pedal, but the sudden increase of the bike's speed made him lose control, causing the bike to lean sideways, which would have almost impacted the ground, but thanks to Barley's quick reaction, it didn't. That experience alone left Ian shaken up; he quivered like a pair of maracas.
Barley patted Ian's back. "Are you feeling alright, little buddy?"
"I-I almost fell," he said in a small, tight voice.
"Don't be too worried, dear brother. You're new to this. Keeping control is hard at first, but you'll get it. I guarantee you. All you need is really good practice," he explained sincerely.
Barley's supportive and optimistic demeanor was the backbone of this challenging and vital lesson. It affected Ian's diminutive motivation. By solely Barley being here with him, Ian had a feeling that he would conquer riding on two wheels. He wouldn't know what to do had his best friend not been here. Barley was the person who never failed to keep him smiling; Ian admired him, valuing each moment they shared, small and big moments. He always expressed merriness whenever Barley was involved. As nerve-wracking riding a bike for the first time was, Ian invoked a share of positive emotions simply because of his one and only brother. Barley knew how to be a brother and a great one at that. He naturally enjoyed hanging with Ian and loved teaching him things from day one. Thus, Barley got the whole teaching matter down, but a part of Ian was left wondering how long he would perfect biking.
"Also, if you feel too scared or tuckered, we can pause until you are ready to continue," Barley added.
"This is all very new to me, but I love doing it with you, big brother," Ian stated innocently.
"I love doing it with you too, little brother." Barley tapped Ian's nose, making the latter giggle. "Do you wanna try again?"
"Sure."
The boys went back to work. Ian still kept failing to manage coordination when starting the bike, nearly toppling over with each try. He wasn't too bothered by that, as this was only his first day practicing, and his mother came out and watched him practice. Two family members offering words of encouragement was a benefit. Also, Barley taught him the way to stop a bike, and he did decent on that after several times of his feet slipping off the pedals. Ian wasn't too keen on those mishaps that occurred but was proud he at least tried to ride it.
Ian and Barley were walking towards the front door. The younger brother was exhausted from practicing and the beating sun.
"You did good for your first time, Ian," Barley complimented.
"Oh, thank you, but I did slip up quite a lot, didn't I?" Ian pointed out embarrassingly.
"It's normal to make mistakes the first time, Ian." Barley opened the door and allowed Ian inside first. "I'm just very proud of all the effort you put into it.
Laurel came into the living room. "Ian, how did everything go, honey?"
"It went okay, Mommy."
"Ian tried his very best, Mom." Barley played with his little brother's hair.
"Yes, I can see that," she acknowledged, kneeling to Ian's height and putting her hands on his shoulders. "It's the effort that counts, sweetie pie. You'll get much better at riding your bike."
Thinking back to his experience outside, he observed that they were right. Effort could stretch a long way and was the key to success. Besides, Ian chose to get started today when Barley provided him the advantage of another day. Something inside had told him that this day was the fateful day where he would take the path of his dream, his goal. And he trusted Barley, the one who taught him the life lesson of never giving up from when Ian was doubting about ever successfully tying his shoes. Being a small, emotionally sensitive child, the surge of determination honestly sort of shocked him, normally fearing trials and tribulations. It might be possible that this was a sign of growing up.
"Hey, I made you boys some lemonade," Laurel told them, standing up.
"Great. Thanks, Mom." Barley headed to the kitchen with Ian following him.
The boys refreshed themselves with their mom's sweet, ice-cold lemonade. The lemonade break cut abruptly, though, as Barley just then remembered something.
"Shrub is supposed to be coming over tomorrow. We are both gonna ride our bikes together outside."
"Neat!" Ian exclaimed. "Can I watch? Please?"
"Of course you can. Shrub can also help you practice riding your bike if you want him to."
"That sounds good." Ian sipped his lemonade.
The next day, Barley's best friend showed up at the house. Holding Teddy in his arms, Ian watched Barley and Shrub happily ride their bikes along the road. He studied their strategic movements for inspiration, mostly. A small part of him yearned to have fun with them.
He snuggled Teddy and exhaled a sigh. "Oh, Teddy. Wouldn't it be nice if I joined Barley and Shrub?"
His bear, as usual, didn't elicit a response but was one of the best listeners to Ian. The elf boy sought comfort and security from his favorite stuffed buddy; Teddy brought pure happiness, making it impossible to stay gloomy with him around. He ultimately brightened his mood in times of need.
"I do so want to join, but I can't ride my bike yet." He glanced over at what he was referring to, prompting him to gain an idea.
He set Teddy on the driveway. "Here, Teddy. You sit right here and watch me."
Ian climbed cautiously on his bike and closely observed Barley and Shrub. He figured that if he could imitate their biking, he would learn faster. Although he preferred Barley teaching him, he was willing to take a chance to contribute and considered that his brother would be spectacularly proud, seeing how his younger brother had the courage to practice solely. Ian silently prayed this would work.
Ian continued observing the duo for a good while. Feeling ready, he grasped onto the handles tightly and, remembering what Barley had taught him yesterday, pushed forward with one foot until he got both feet moving on the pedals. He flashed a smile of pride at this achievement and whipped his head to the boys.
"Barley! Shrub! Look at me!" He released his hand unconsciously from the handlebar and waved over to them.
The two paused upon catching sight of Ian on the bike with no assistance… alongside losing his balance. Without thinking, Barley bolted towards his younger brother.
"Ian!" He screamed in horror as he reached Ian just inches before colliding with the hard ground. He pulled him off the bicycle and buried him to his chest protectively. "Oh, Ian, are you okay? It's alright, your big brother's got you." He cuddled him tighter, thinking if Ian could hear his racing heart.
Ian's lips trembled, traumatized by what happened. "B-Barley... I-I'm so s-sorry," he apologized sorrowly.
"Shh… Shh," Barley solaced, keeping his little brother very close to him, rocking him in his warm arms. "It's not your fault. It was just a mistake."
Ian swallowed the lump in his throat. "I-I just w-wanted to try," he whimpered.
"I know you were, Ian, and I'm really proud of you for that, but it's dangerous when no one is looking over you. You are far from ready to ride by yourself," Barley explained calmly.
Ian held his head up to make eye contact with Barley. "I understand, big brother. I won't do that anymore."
Barley kissed Ian's temple. "Good. The next time you want to ride, please tell me first. Okay?"
"Okay." Ian got up and picked up Teddy on the driveway. "Were you scared, Teddy?" He cradled him.
"Oh, I bet he was." Barley stroked the bear. "It's okay, Teddy. Ian is fine."
Shrub, feeling bad, walked up to the two brothers. "Hey, are you okay, Ian?"
"Yes, Shrub, I'm alright."
Shrub leaned close to Barley. "It looks like I need to start teaching him now," Shrub whispered to him.
"Good idea, Shrub," Barley whispered back.
Shrub made eye contact with Ian. "Alright, Ian, I'm gonna teach you, but you need to calm down a little more. You still look like you're shaken up."
Ian cuddled his teddy bear. "Shrub, you'll make sure I won't fall, right?"
"Of course I'll make sure. Don't worry, you won't fall. I got your back."
Shrub kept his word.. a little too well. He had a strict attitude, for one thing, constantly using an assertive voice when teaching and would get irritated if Ian got puzzled by the long instructions he gave or did things incorrectly. His strictness came with a side of overbearingness, making it hard for Ian to concentrate. An itty bitty mistake would make him go berserk. Needless to say, Shrub's behavior did not work at all for poor Ian; the boy was highly anxious during the majority of his training, so anxious that he was leading to the point of breaking down into tears. Indeed, Barley was not keen on his best friend's teaching method. He hated seeing sensitive Ian like that, and he quickly knew he couldn't learn that way. Shrub meant well, but his overprotectiveness was having a negative toll on Ian's emotions. And Barley was protective to Ian night and day. He certainly could not let Shrub teach him any longer.
Ian was silently sitting on the doorstep, his left hand pressed up against his cheek and his right hand scratching Blazey's belly. After that bike lesson with Shrub, he wasn't in the best mood and wasn't motivated to practice anymore today. Shrub's disappointment left him down in the dumps. He really didn't intend to anger him. He listened and followed his instructions the best he could. Was he that bad, or did he need guided practice more?
"Will I ever get better, Blazey?" he asked desperately, rubbing behind her ear.
The dragon licked Ian's cheek in comfort as if saying, "I believe you will." She rubbed her entire body against him.
"Thank you, Blazey." Ian hugged her, leaning his head against hers.
Meanwhile, a sorry Shrub was conversing with Barley about the ordeal from earlier.
"I really messed up, Barley," he claimed guiltily. "I feel truly awful."
Barley relaxed his hand on his best friend's shoulder. "Oh, Shrub, it's okay. You were only trying to help."
"I've made poor Ian so sad. I shouldn't have taught him. I'm so bad at teaching." Shrub's hands covered his eyes in shame.
Barley removed Shrub's hands from his face kindly. "You might not have been an amazing teacher, but you're an amazing friend."
Shrub managed a smile. "Thank you, Barley."
"No problem, Shrub. And from now on, I should do all the teaching."
Shrub rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Heh, good idea. You're a better teacher than me."
"Not anyone can be a good teacher," he advised him. Then, right after, a light bulb just went off above his head; Barley had an idea.
"What is it, Barley?"
"You can encourage Ian, Shrub. You're really good at that. And Ian needs all the encouragement he can get," he said to him.
"Of course! I can do that!" the green troll exclaimed, happy that he was not entirely left out. "I'll be happy to pitch in. For Ian."
"Thanks a bunch, Shrub." Barley had known Shrub since preschool, and if someone were to question the former about the best thing about the latter, Barley could definitely address his loyalty. Nothing would beat that personality trait. Shrub would never lose faith in his friends; he believed they could bring out the best in themselves. He had never expressed doubts. Based on Shrub's loyalty, Barley's gut had told him that their friendship was meant to be long-lasting. Like always, Barley relied on his gut instinct.
Shrub looked over at Ian petting Blazey. "I should go apologize to him now."
"Go on," Barley said.
When the boy troll made his way towards Ian, Ian raised his head upon hearing Shrub's footsteps. "Oh, hi, Shrub."
Shrub made an awkward posture. "Hey, Ian. Look, I'm really sorry for being so strict earlier. I just wanted you to do well."
Luckily, Ian was the type who forgave people easily, so he immediately accepted his apology. "I forgive you, Shrub."
Shrub adjusted his posture and smiled appreciatively. "Thank you, Ian."
"You're absolutely welcome, Shrub." Ian gave him a brief hug.
Shrub accepted the hug just before his nose started to catch the scent of a delicious aroma filling the air. "Mmm…."
Ian giggled. "That's Mommy's blueberry pie. It smells delicious, doesn't it?"
Shrub's mouth watered. "Yes.. It does.."
"You can't resist mom's baking, don't you?" Barley intervened.
"No, I can't. I just have to taste her treats whenever she bakes."
"I totally understand you. I feel like I'm missing so much if I don't have one bite of her cookies, cakes…"
Shrub cut him off. A pool of water was forming in his mouth by now. "Oh, please don't talk about the goodies. Let's just get inside already."
"Yeah, let's. And then after, I'll teach Ian some more." Barley tickled Ian's sides, making him laugh.
Learning proceeded for Ian. Steering the bike was the next thing Barley showed him. That part was all about control, and going by his bad history of controlling, he seriously predicted the worst results. But he thought wrong. Steering wasn't all too complicated. It requires bikers to be extra careful when turning corners, and so speed isn't as high compared to going straight. Since Ian was taking things slow, he actually was adequate with steering. When practicing this concept with Barley, the weight that had been sitting on his shoulders was lifted. No massive stumbles occurred. For the first time, he semi-accomplished a skill, and he felt spectacularly great or even bold. In order for him to fully accomplish steering, he must put those learned skills to the test.
"So, I just go like this?" Ian steered the front wheel to the right and gently rolled towards Barley.
Barley clapped. "Yes! That's perfect!"
"Way to go, Ian!" Shrub cheered, pumping his fist up.
A wave of victory flew over Ian. He successfully accomplished the task, and without any help at all. The boy was nearly speechless. "I-I did it… I did it!" He smiled so big that it could illuminate a pitch-black cave.
"I knew you would, little buddy," Barley said warmly, ruffling Ian's hair.
"I have to tell Mom!" Ian hopped off his bike and zipped inside the house.
"Mom! Mom! Mommy!" he called.
Laurel hurried down the stairs. "Ian? What is it, darling? Did you get hurt?"
"No, I steered my bike all by myself!"
"Oh, you did? How wonderful!" Laurel scooped her boy up and planted a big kiss on his cheek. "Mommy is so proud. My, you're getting so big."
Ian lay his head on his mom's chest. "I'm getting there to riding with the big kids."
"Indeed you are," Laurel said sweetly, and then headed outside to meet her other son and his best friend.
Barley saw Laurel stepping out with Ian nestled in her arms. "Mom! Ian was incredible! You should've seen him steer that bike."
Laurel cradled Ian. "He's really making progress. You are teaching him well, honey."
"Thanks, Mom. Ian, we are doing great so far. If we keep this up, you'll be able to ride on your own soon. Like, as soon as tomorrow."
His little brother was getting sleepy from Laurel's gentle rocking motion but was now highly alert. "Really? Do you mean it?"
Barley chuckled. "No, but you'll get there before you know it."
The sound of bicycle bells rang out in the distance, bringing everybody's full attention. They turned their heads in the direction of the sound. Not long after, a pair of bicycles could be seen down the road. They appeared to be pink and orange. As the bikes got closer, they could make out two elf children: a boy and a girl. The boy was on the orange bike, and the girl was on the pink bike.
"Those kids have no training wheels on their bikes," Ian noticed.
"That's right, darling." Laurel held Ian closer to her.
As the kids passed by, Ian gave them a friendly wave. They saw the gesture and waved back before disappearing elsewhere. Ian smiled in inspiration.
"I'm gonna be just like those kids," he said.
Over time, Ian kept practicing and practicing. Just about many days of the week, he would work on pedaling straight, steering, starting, stopping, and other common skills. Progress was going well for him. He took training at a slow and steady pace, which made way towards that desired progression. According to Barley, Ian was an avid learner. He intensely focused on his lessons, and he ensured that he understood everything and would not continue until he got something right. Barley, as an older brother, enjoyed his little brother's diligence and readiness to learn. He wholeheartedly adored teaching him, and seeing the way Ian's face lights up whenever he improved was just the miracle of it. Barley's heart would automatically melt from that. Clearly, his teaching method influenced Ian effectively, and he was happy for him. He also couldn't believe how fast he was growing. Those same two feet that worked the bike once clumsily paced the living room floor Barley had him practice walking on. And here he was, practicing in the outside world. Remarkably, Ian was getting better and better each day. It wouldn't be long until he rode solo. His performance at this rate was excellent from him practicing for weeks on end, so this maybe, just maybe could be the day.
Ian walked out of the garage with his bike in tow, expecting to be another practice session. However, he saw Barley standing on the road, his smile bigger than ever. What was up?
"Why are you smiling so big, big brother?" he questioned.
With both pudgy hands set on Ian's shoulders, Barley acclaimed, "Little brother, I think you are ready to do this on your own."
Ian became nervous despite all of the training he had endured. Riding without assistance was a huge step for him to take. "Do you really think so?" he asked meekly.
"I know so," Barley answered confidently. "You've been training long and hard, and I've been watching you through it all. You are better at this now than when you were first practicing, and I'm incredibly proud of you for that. I believe that you have enough strength to ride without me. Please, trust me… and my gut."
Ian held his gaze at Barley, then directed it to his bike. Barley's gut was never wrong, and it would probably never be, and Ian one-hundred percent trusted his big brother. Judging by both Barley and his gut, he presumed nothing could really go wrong. Moreover, his goal was still waiting to be achieved; meeting that goal was the final step. He made it this far, and he couldn't stop when he had practiced just to get to this point. Ian needed to let his desirable moment shine.
"Okay," he said. "I trust you and your tummy." He patted Barley's stomach.
"Excellent! Climb aboard, won't you, please?"
As soon as Ian climbed on, Barley held his back. "I'll hold on to you for a little, and then I'll let go. Understand?"
Ian responded nonverbally with a head nod. He could speak if it wasn't for his heart pounding loudly in his chest. Weeks of training had prepared him for this, but still, actually riding alone for the first time could be daunting for any kid like himself.
Barley sensed Ian's anxiousness and attempted to soothe him. "Hey, hey, hey. Don't be scared. Everything's gonna be just fine. You've totally got this. How about we try shaking all those nerves out, shall we?"
Ian accepted, and the two shook it all about.
"There we go. Feeling better now?"
"Yes."
"Alright!" Barley cried. "Are you ready?"
"Yes."
"Here we go!" Barley gave Ian a little push.
With a straight face but a fixed mind, Ian began pedaling, and he kept a very firm grasp on the handlebars as if glue was on them. He absorbed the nice environment around him, hearing the birds chirping and feeling the lovely air against his body. After being refreshed, he proceeded to go faster, which gave Barley the signal to let go. With Barley's hand no longer on his back, Ian wobbled a cinch but quickly straightened himself. Retaining balance, he continued going forward and gained more speed.
"Woo hoo!" Barley cheered, throwing two arms up in the air.
Ian smiled widely, perceiving fulfillment. He did it. He really did it. He reached his goal, and every inch of satisfaction is flowing within him. No training wheels and no older brother; no guidance at all. Just a proud and gleeful little boy on his bicycle. It goes without saying that this was worth it in the end, all thanks to his family and Shrub. Ian could finally ride with the big kids now. Living the moment, Ian closed his eyes shut, feeling the sweet breeze and his heart pounding in happiness. The next thing he knew, he was feeling… out of control?
"IAN! WATCH OUT!" Barley yelled.
Eyes wide open, Ian found himself swerving all over the place. There was no hope in getting back straight since his bike was spiraling everywhere, making it impossible to even do so much.
"S-slow down, bike!" Ian said in a wobbly voice.
From that point onward, things got worse. A bush located at Ian's right came up in his view, and that was where his bike was aiming for. Within seconds, Ian tumbled head-first in the bush, and because the bush was adjacent to the road, his left knee collided with the hard pavement, resulting in a skinned, bloody kneecap. The boy wailed, a waterfall of tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Ian!" Barley sped to him and helped him out of the bush. "Oh, dear. There there, my dear little brother." He cuddled his crying little brother, seeking to provide him with the best comfort possible. "Where does it hurt, little buddy? Can you please show me?"
"My knee…" Ian rolled up his pant leg, revealing the wound. Blood was oozing from his knee.
"Oh, that looks bad. Don't worry, Ian. We'll make your boo-boo all better." Barley placed his left arm around Ian's back and scooped up his legs.
Ian wiped his tears and relaxed his arms on his belly. "T-thanks, Barley," he whispered.
Barley kissed his cheek and then began to walk home.
Ian sat on his bed, holding Teddy and looking down at his bandaged knee. He couldn't resist thinking back to that terrible, terrible accident. Why did he have to fall? He handled that bike smoothly, and with no training wheels either. Balancing was the most challenging concept to deal with, and when he finally pulled it off, it felt monumental to him. He got what he basically dreamed of, and yet a drastic change of events followed. Since the little boy couldn't predict the future, his high expectations weren't exactly met.
A knot formed in his stomach, disappointed for stumbling over yet again. A lot of mistakes happened during practicing, but a mistake was made when he actually rode alone. That wasn't fair to Ian. Those mistakes should be stopped once and for all. Ian slumped down and stared at the yellow stars on his ceiling.
Barley knocked on his door. "May I come in?"
"Yes."
Barley came into the room and made himself comfortable on the bed. "How's your knee feeling?"
"A little bit better."
"Don't you worry, Ian. You'll ride your bike again in a couple of days."
Ian positioned himself upright. "Umm, about that…"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think I can do it again. I'll fall."
"Oh, Ian… It was just a slip-up, that's all. All it matters is how amazing you did out there. You did wonderfully. I'm super proud of you, and Mom is, too."
"But I messed up! I wasn't perfect!" Ian choked up. "I keep making mistakes! Why do they always happen? Just why?!" Ian exploded into tears, lying down on his side and covering his whole body with his pillow.
"Buddy, buddy… Don't cry." Barley took the pillow off and, as usual for sad times like this, held him close and snuggled him to his heart's content. Giving Ian comfort was something he would never cease, especially if Barley had a younger brother who was really sensitive. Plus, he generally loved cheering up Ian. It was a natural brotherly thing, yes, but the bond between them was unique. The brothers were delighted to have each other's company regardless. Barley could sit here all day if he needed to.
Barley's warm, loving embrace reduced the sobs, save for the sniffles. Ian grabbed his nearby teddy and nuzzled the stuffed animal.
"There we go. Now, can you please look at me, little buddy?"
Ian looked at Barley with those sweet, round brown eyes of his.
"I want you to listen to my advice, okay? You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think."
Ian stayed silent and listened intently to Barley, invested in his words.
"Everyone makes mistakes, Ian," he continued. "Even when you are really good at something, you can still make them. I slip up once in a while, and I'm excellent at riding my bike. Don't let one little mistake get to you, Ian. Mistakes happen."
Automatically, most of his grief went away. Barley's way of words was magical. Knowing that his accident wasn't something to beat himself over eased tension. Then he thought about his boo-boo and touched the band-aid.
"My boo-boo still hurts, though," Ian said.
"Yes, I know it hurts. Mistakes can hurt, but you have to brush them off and get back up again. All it matters is how much you have improved over the past several weeks. That's really important to consider. You've got what you deserved. You did fantastic out there today. Keep doing what you are doing, and always be careful."
Ian kissed Barley on the nose in appreciation. "You're the best, Barley."
Barley hugged him in return. "Aww, Ian. You're welcome. I'm going to let you rest now." He got off the bed and walked to the door.
"Are we gonna ride our bikes tomorrow?"
Barley turned around and gave Ian a thumbs up. "You bet!"
Once Barley was out of the room, Ian got under the covers for a nice, quick nap. Ian looked forward to the many bike rides he would have with Barley. And if he fell ever again, he knew he would get right back up.
A/N: In case you haven't figured it out, Barley's advice is from Pooh's Grand Adventure: The Search for Christopher Robin. It's so meaningful that I just had to put it in. Have a blessed day/night, everyone! 3