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Jefferson Street

Jamie stood out of breath at the top of the hill, while her eyes followed the road down the steep incline. It was a hot afternoon in August, made wet and humid from that morning’s storms. On one side of her was her pink two-wheeler, complete with plastic wicker basket and silver foil handlebar streamers. On the other side Jamie’s younger sister sat, wilted from the trek but with an anxious gleam in her eye. When Christy heard what Jamie was planning on doing, she was in awe and a little scared for her older sister. Not every 8 year old tackles Jefferson Street and the ones that do rarely make it down unharmed. She had decided to follow Jamie not only to be an eyewitness to greatness, but to also make sure someone was there should the unthinkable happen.

The silence was thick and intense between the two girls. The weight of the task at hand was almost too much to handle for Jamie, but having Christy there gave her a reason to see it through. Jamie adjusted her long ponytail and threw her leg over her bike. As she sat down on the seat she started going through her mental checklist: Shoes tied? Check. Handlebars secure? Check. Streamers untangled? Check. Taking one last look at Christy sitting tensely on the sidewalk, Jamie had a moment of hesitation. What would happen if she became the latest victim of Jefferson Street? Christy knew what Jamie was thinking at that moment, as sisters often do, and gave her a thumbs-up sign. While she did notice the unease in Christy’s eyes, the sign of encouragement was just what Jamie needed to push off down the hill.

The bike moved slowly at first; Jamie had to actually pedal for a few feet before she picked up speed. It wasn’t as bad as Jamie had imagined. The warm wind brushing past her sweaty face had an invigorating effect and for a short moment she felt amazingly alive. Jamie’s hands tightened on the handlebars as she started moving faster and faster. The Jefferson Street hill seemed to go on for miles but because Jamie could see the house at the bottom growing larger, she knew it would be over soon. At that exact moment she heard a startling POP from her front tire. The handlebars started to shake uncontrollably and Jamie had an instant vision of flying over them and landing head-first onto the pavement. Her tire had busted and she needed to make a decision; to throw down the bike or become a poster child for helmet-wearing in America. Coming up fast on Jamie’s left were some dry shrubs and she threw all her weight to that side. The prickly bushes were like fire against her already hot skin and she could feel a branch tearing into her neck. She felt pain though, and pain meant that she was alive.

Jamie felt the oppressive stillness of the summer afternoon now that she wasn’t hurling down a concrete mountain. Christy’s footsteps seemed miles away as Jamie came to terms with the fact that she had battled Jefferson Street and Jefferson Street had won. The sun’s heat felt like salt in Jamie’s wounds. Relief only came when Christy’s small figure blocked the sun from doing further damage. Jamie looked up at the dark figure, searching for the comfort and assurance only a little sister can provide.

“You’re dead!” Christy gasped, not registering the fact that Jamie was moving in an attempt to push the bike off of her leg. Before Jamie could reply, Christy took off towards their house, yelling for their mother. The bike was too heavy for Jamie to move in her weakened state, so she laid back down, gravel crunching beneath her.

“Psst...hey! That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen!”

Jamie sat up on one elbow and looked for the source of the unfamiliar voice. The sun obscured her vision, but then she saw that it was coming from Brian, the older boy that lived down the block. Brian gave Jamie an exaggerated salute and ran off between the houses. Jamie smiled to herself, feeling slightly better now that she realized she was more like a hero and less like a victim. Determination revived her wounded spirit, and Jamie vowed that tomorrow, she was going to make it down Jefferson Street without dying.

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