Friday, November 23, 2012

The Blue Bicycle Helmet - The first installment




The sun was shining bright as Bonny sipped her cappuccino; she was seated at a table outside the Hyde Park café enjoying the warmth of the morning sun on her face. She sat alone as was her preferred style, Bonny was an observer of others; she found their day to day habits most amusing and it was on this morning that she sat watching others in their morning routines. Many bustled by, busily scurrying off to work, others moved slower, a desire to enjoy the day, but their expressions couldn't hide the disappointment of having to work on such a lovely day. Bonny sat off to the side of the café, a position she had chosen specifically for its isolation from the passers-by.  She wished to observe in solitude, the only contact she had sought was from the waiter, but now that she had her morning cappuccino she had sank back into her own little observers’ world. That is probably why she didn't notice the bicycle helmet rolling slowly toward her until it hit her leg; she looked down in time to see it spin leisurely to a stop just under her table. Bending down, she took hold of the helmet and picked it up, she looked at it, confused to find one at her feet. It was blue and had the word, ‘Melbourne,’ stamped on the side with white paint. She found that slightly odd considering they were in Sydney. Turning around on her seat so that she could see behind her, she saw the source of the helmet. There on the ground lie a man, a bicycle was on the ground beside him, he appeared to have fallen from the bicycle and a crowd was beginning to gather around him to stare, but not to offer assistance. As it quickly became apparent that he wasn't moving, someone moved close enough to actually check the man’s vitals. Bonny watched through the crowd from her table, it all looked very interesting the way the people reacted to such an event. She stared at the man that kneeled beside the accident victim, the kneeling man seemed to her to be in his late 40’s or early 50’s, with the products these days Bonny was finding it harder and harder to judge a man’s age, but she could tell he was married, was left handed and was some sort of tradesman or gardener. Although he wasn't wearing overalls or carrying tools his current pants were well worn around the knees and dirt was wedged under his fingernails, the left hand also bore a wedding ring, which was the hand he was using to check the bicycle victims pulse. These things Bonny instantly noticed, it had become a subconscious habit of hers to notice things like that, but big things like a man falling from a bicycle right behind her, those things she never noticed until after they happened.
“He’s dead!”
She had been lost in thought, but those words snapped her back to reality. She looked back to the fallen man, now very interested in the victim himself and not just those around him. To some, the thought of a dead man seemed intriguing and the gathering crowd grew.
“Someone call the police,” a woman standing nearby said, and at least twenty people pulled out their phones and made the call.
Bonny chuckled to herself, surely these people had seen a dead body before, it wasn't that interesting, but then again, it was a good excuse for them to arrive late to work. Interested to see how the affair would progress, Bonny motioned to the waiter and ordered herself another cappuccino while she waited for the police to arrive. She did after all hold a possession of the dead man’s in her hand which she should probably hand over to them when they arrived.
You can, then, of course imagine her surprise when they did not appear, instead an ambulance arrived, two paramedics quickly examined the man and found that he was still dead; they quickly covered the body and took it away leaving the bicycle strewn across the foot path. 
Bonny watched on confused, it was clear by the gathering crowd that they too were expecting something more.  Bonny stared at the bicycle wondering if anyone would come to claim it or would it be left there to rust, she looked back to the helmet.
“Now,” she sighed, “what to do with you?” She patted it like it was a lost pet.