It is the summer of 1969 and Janelle is a pink blur on her bicycle trailing a blonde ponytail as she crests the hill on Temple Avenue. Down the other side, she pedals faster and faster until she can’t keep up and gravity takes over. Just behind her are Joey and Benny, screaming like bicycle banshees, chasing Janelle’s bobbing blonde ponytail.
A bolt of electric thrill shoots through her as she tucks her chin to the handlebars and makes herself as small as possible to the wind. For a moment she feels like she’s falling and in that weightlessness moment the wind in ears takes on her father’s voice, the lilt of it filling her head, a sing-song jibe. Kind and familiar from her youth.
“You’ve done it now, Missy-pants! Look it. Look it, Missy-pants! You’ve gone and left too much to chance.”