Darris looked down the slope of pounded, bare earth. Widowmaker Hill looked even higher from here at the top than it ever had from below. The eight year old gulped once, closed his eyes, and pushed off. His bicycle rolled easily enough as gravity worked its magic, pulling rider and vehicle faster and faster down the incline.

Wind whipping across his face, Darris dared to squint open his eyes. Just in time to notice a tricycle in his way that some stupid little kid had left along the trail. He careened around it, eyes wide now with panic.

Whew! That was close! He kept his eyes peeled for any more obstacles as he completed his break-neck race with doom. Somehow he made it upright and in one piece to the bottom as the angle changed to a less dizzying tilt.

Darris screeched to a dusty stop, heart pounding so loud he thought it would burst out of his chest and splatter everything in sight. Randy, David, Stevie and the rest cheered their friend as they crowded around him.

“Great run!” “Didja see how he missed the trike?” “Good job, man!”

Multiple hands patted and pounded his back and shoulders. The accolades were worth the terror. Darris had not only survived, but had earned the respect of the neighborhood. He was ‘in’.

The group of boys laughed and shouted and took off on their bikes for new thrills. Darris looked back once, noticing that Widowmaker Hill didn’t look quite as high as before. Maybe it had never been so big to begin with. He turned away again and sped off with the gang.

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