Bishop

After our meeting that first day, two weeks ago, we drove to my father’s storage locker to see if I could get my stuff. It took all of my strength to go through all the things I had there. Memories of Jake bombarded me and I almost crumbled beneath the weight. But I didn’t. Despite my protests, Bennington grabbed my bike and gear I had lying around while I hastily filled another bag with clothes. All told, I was there for less than ten minutes. Half of that was spent debating whether I wanted a photo of Jake and me taken at the Rugby World Cup a couple of years ago. I stood staring at his beautiful face, longingly stroking it for ages before I pulled myself together. Still, the photo made its way into my meagre collection of belongings. So with my solitary picture, a bag of clothes, my bike, and whatever else Bennington found, I said goodbye. Even though Jonah and I made peace with one another, I still don’t feel like he’s a part of me anymore. I think too much has happened for me to ever be able to trust him or even depend on him again. What’s most important now is working on me, getting these hours done, and finding my way back to Jake.

My life may be a little all over the place right now, but that doesn’t mean I don’t know when a business opportunity is being squandered. There are so many ways things could be improved around here, but Bennington will hear none of them. I know a few tweaks here and there, and this place could go from pretty decent to pretty fucking awesome. But every time I open my mouth, he shuts me down. Just like he shuts me down when I try to explain to him why I refuse to get back on my bike.

“You know if we—” I started for what had to be the fiftieth time.

“We?” Bennington asks. “Since when did I become we?”

I brush him off. “You know having me here is good for business.”

“Cheap labour is always good for business,” he says as he continues to tinker with the bike in front of him.

“Whatever. All you’d have to do,” I say, humouring him, “is—”

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, I don’t want to and I won’t be making any changes around here,” Bennington says, cutting me off yet again.

“Why not?” I ask, throwing my hands up in the air. “This place could be a fucking gold mine, and yet you’re happy with it just being mediocre.”

“Not everything is about money.”

“Trust me, it’s better to have it than not.”

He shakes his head. “Why did you get into riding?”

I shrug. “My father wanted me to. He thought it would be fun and all kinds of trendy to have a son who was on the cutting edge of sport.”

“Before that. Freestyle BMX is a pretty strange sport for him to pick out and force you into, so I’m guessing you had to have been interested in it beforehand. Why BMX?”

“I don’t know, because I liked riding I guess. I wanted to have fun and tool around.”

Bennington points at me. “Exactly.”

“Exactly what?” I ask.

“You got into BMX because you wanted to have fun, not to make money or impress your father’s business cronies.”

“So?”

“So that’s the same reason so many kids come here. To have fun. I’m not going to do anything that jeopardises that.”

“But what about you?” I ask.

“What about me?”

“Don’t you need money? You know, to keep the lights on, doors open?”

He waves me off. “I’m not in this to make a pile of money. Do I know what I could do if that changed? Yes, I do. But that’s not what this sport is about. I truly believe that once upon a time you knew that.”

I shake my head. “I’m not sure I ever got the chance to.”

“Well maybe you can find out now.”

I give him a wry smile. “I think that time has passed.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You’ll never know if you don’t allow yourself to try.”