Earl was not going to jail. He had never been caught before, and he did not plan on being caught tonight. He ran at full speed down the sidewalk until he rounded a corner and collided with two aluminum trash cans, stopping his forward momentum and sending him toppling face first into the ground. Earl attempted to pick up the items that had spilled from the two grocery bags he carried around his arms, but there was no time. The police officer, although slow and overweight, hobbled down the sidewalk closer and closer to Earl’s location. Earl left his belongings and continued to run, and as he ran he could hear the officer yelling and swearing behind him. “You got lucky this time you god damn bum! Get the hell outta here, I better not see you around here ever again.”

Now who do you think you’re calling a lazy bum, thought Earl. He considered being turning around and giving the officer a piece of his mind, but decided that would be unwise and continued at full speed down the street until he rounded another corner and ducked into an alleyway. He bent over exhausted and out of breath, putting his hands on his knees. The years of smoking and drinking had taken their toll. It was around eleven o’clock at night, and the mid-January Chicago winds were freezing Earl’s hands and face, even through his worn wool mittens and the beard that hung from his face. He pulled his hat down over his ears, zipped up his jacket and continued to walk down the street at a much slower pace as he fingered through the wallet he had recently acquired. He was disappointed when he saw the measly twelve dollars that it contained. He removed the money and tossed the wallet into a storm drain. “Where to now?” He said to himself. Earl began to think. An abandoned building? A train station? He needed to find somewhere that at the very least would offer some protection from the cold. The wind and the flurries of snow stung his eyes and cracked his lips. He was beginning to think that for now, a dumpster would the most viable option.

Being homeless during the winter in Chicago was not an easy way of life by any means. With the heavy winds and the below freezing temperatures that come often, it was not uncommon for a person to freeze to death when sleeping outside every night. But Earl was no novice to the streets. He had been homeless for most of his life, ever since he had made the decision to run away from his home in Miami, Florida one week after his high school graduation. He told his parents that he would be taking a short road trip. He was now thirty five and he still had not even considered returning home, or at the very least contacting his parents. Earl was a lanky man whose years of living on the streets had left his eyes and cheeks sunken into his face from a lack of nutrition. He had long curly black hair on his head that was usually covered by a hat and a thick, dirty black beard that had not been groomed in close to a year.

There was no real reason behind his running away from home other than the simple fact that he wanted to leave. Earl hated the idea of having to waste another chapter of his life with more school. He wanted to see new places and meet new people, and the only way to do that was to get away from his home and out into the world. Earl traveled around the country for as many years as he could manage before finally settling down in Chicago, not so much because he liked it there but more so because he had run out of money. He did not always dislike Chicago, only in the winter months when his fingertips turned blue and his beard became coated thick with ice. Earl spent his first weeks in the windy city starving and begging for money on the streets before he came to his senses and realized that it was no way for a man to make a living. So he began to steal. He pickpocketing, swindling, mugging. Anything to make a few dollars. He was good at it too. Although there were a few close calls, he had somehow always managed to get off scott-free.

This way of life would soon end for Earl though, for he was a man on a mission. He had a plan, and this was no ordinary plan either, it was a plan presented to him directly from God. Earl had discovered his purpose in life and it was a purpose that was impossible for him to fulfill while living in Chicago, or in any city for that matter. Throughout his time on the streets, Earl had struggled with addiction. It began with alcohol which was easy for him to obtain and drink out of a brown paper bag as he waited for the bus or roamed the streets. Soon after coming to Chicago, his drug of choice shifted from alcohol to crack cocaine. For four months he lived in an abandoned apartment building that had been deemed unsafe to live in by the city with several individuals who, much like Earl, had all developed small drug addictions. This living situation continued until one Saturday night after some heavy drug use Earl had a heart attack.

His roommates solved the problem by simply carrying him out in front of their apartment building and leaving him lying on the sidewalk for some pedestrian to stumble over. Eventually he was discovered lying face down in the street on the fringe of death by an old woman who had been walking her dog. He was transported to the nearest hospital and put into intensive care, but the doctors who were watching over him seemed positive that he was a lost cause, destined to die from his drug overdose. He lay in a coma like state in his bed for three days, but it was on the third day that it happened. All Earl can remember is an overwhelming feeling of guilt rushing over him followed by a blinding white light from where a booming voice came from within. “EARL” said the voice.

"Hey uh, who’s that? Where am I?” Asked Earl.

“None of that is important. Don’t ask questions, just listen. I have come here to tell you that you can change your way of life Earl, and you will unless you wish to die. You have spent your time roaming the earth with no purpose, surviving only by lying and stealing. I could let you die right now, but I won’t. I am going to give you the gift of a second chance. You can save your soul but there is one and only one way for you to do this. You must leave this society that you contribute nothing to and live a life of solitude until the day you die. To begin, you must first acquire money in an honest way. With that money you shall buy a bike, and with that bike you will ride deep into the mountains, never to return. Do this or do not, it is your choice. But know that this is the only way that you will truly find peace.”

Earl stared back at the bright light, speechless. He did not understand any of this, surely this is all just a dream he thought. There were so many questions that he wanted to ask the voice, but before he managed to get any of them out he was slingshotted away from the bright light and back into consciousness. Earl sat up in the hospital bed, sweating profusely and gasping for breath. He looked around, observing the IV that stuck in his arm, the machinery that filled the room, and the white gown with small blue dots that he wore. He looked at the digital clock that hung on the wall across from his bed. The day was Tuesday, and the last thing that clearly stuck out in Earl’s memory was getting a hot dog on his walk home late last Saturday afternoon. Any memory after that was nonexistent. Earl began to recognize the reality of his situation. He was clearly in the hospital for some reason, and whatever that reason was had caused him to sleep through the past three days. Then Earl remembered the dream. Or was it a dream? Earl did not know for sure, but he did know one thing: he had to get out of the hospital and get that bike.

Earl considered waiting around to speak to a nurse, but decided that there was no time for waiting. He had to get out of that hospital and it was now or never. So Earl disattached himself from all the machinery and yanked the IV from his arm. He pulled his body out from the bed and a wave of light headedness came over him, nearly causing him to fall flat on his face. Earl managed to secure his weight against the wall and continued to make his way towards the entrance of the hospital. He only had on his hospital gown which barely provided enough coverage all around, and he avoided making eye contact with any of the other patients or workers who inhabited the hospitals long brightly lit hallway. As he reached the end of the hall and rounded a corner, Earl could see the sliding glass exit doors not more than one hundred yards away. He slowly pushed onward towards freedom, still making sure not to look at any of the nurses or doctors. He had aroused suspicion by this point, and as he walked the nurses looked at him with curiosity and whispered to each other, yet none of them tried to stop him. As he came within twenty yards of the exit, he passed by a reception area that sat on the right side of the hall and was inhabited by two women.

“Sir. Excuse me, sir.” said one woman in a nasally tone. “Where do you think you’re going? You can’t just leave.” Earl waved her off, paying very little attention to what she had said. He didn’t have time to stop and chat with this woman.

“Sir, if you don’t stop I’m going to be forced to call security.” said the woman. Earl still didn’t listen. Instead of calling security, the woman stood up from behind her desk and attempted to apprehend Earl herself. She reached for Earl, managing to grab a hold of the sleeve of his gown. In a panic, Earl looked for some way to free himself from her grip. He saw his opportunity in a clipboard that sat on top of the reception desk. He grabbed it and threw it at the woman. She ducked her head out of the path of the clipboard, causing her to let go of Earl's sleeve. The moment she released Earl was running as quickly as his feet would carry him towards the door.

"Security!" He could hear the woman shouting behind him. But it didn't matter. In a matter of seconds Earl was running through the door and down the street, his gown flowing in the wind.

First things first, thought Earl, I need go get all of my belongings and get out of this gown. Earl had ceased running and began strolling down the street towards the abandoned apartment building where he had been staying before the accident. Earl laughed to himself at the flow of people walking in the opposite direction down the sidewalk who stared at him, perplexed by the sight of a dirty homeless man wearing nothing but a hospital gown. He stood in front of the building after ten minutes of walking. He ducked into the alleyway and climbed through a broken window that was partially hidden by a dumpster. Earl stepped lightly, trying his best not to alert any of the other people in the building that he had returned. He wanted to gather his belongings and leave, that was all. He ascended the stairs to the third floor and walked a short distance down a hallway to the room where he had previously lived. The room, littered with trash and a few dirty twin sized mattresses was uninhabited. There sat Earl’s backpack in the corner of the room, the contents strewn about the floor. The backpack had only contained spare clothes and an itchy woolen blanket, and whoever it was that had been searching for something valuable found nothing. Earl changed out of the gown and packed the blanket and remaining clothing into the backpack. He descended down the stairs to the first floor and climbed through the same window he had entered through.

The remainder of Earl’s Tuesday was spent preparing to begin his quest. Years of walking the streets of Chicago had burned a map into his memory, and Earl recalled that there was a bike shop that sat on the corner of West Maple avenue called “The Kickstand.” As he walked, he thought about where he might go once he left Chicago. Earl had never spent much time in the mountains, but he was open to the idea. Some time spent away from the city would be good for him. He named off all of the mountain ranges he could remember in his head: The rockies, Sierra Nevada, Mount Rainier. He finally settled on the Appalachians. It would be a long bike ride, almost seven hundred miles. But it was nothing that Earl did not think he could handle. First he would get the bicycle, then he would buy the food and other necessities for the journey and for a life in the mountains. He would finally leave Chicago and add it to his list of places to never return to.

Earl nearly walked passed the bike shop as he thought hard about the items that he would need for his journey. A sign that sat on the sidewalk at the entrance of the shop caught his eye, which in large red chalk letters read: “WELCOME, COME INSIDE! BIKES AS LOW AS $150.” A bell jingled as Earl entered and was immediately greeted by the bearded man who wore glasses and a flannel shirt and sat on a stool behind the counter. “Hey man, what can we help you with?” asked the man, diverting the his eyes from the magazine he had been reading and staring at Earl.

“Just looking,” replied Earl. As Earl slowly walked down the rows of bikes, the man followed closely behind him, asking questions as they went. “So what is it exactly that you’re looking for? Mountain bike? Road bike? We even have these cool hybrid bikes if you want to see those. What’s your price range?”

Earl did not actually know what he was looking for. His knowledge of bikes was practically nothing. “Something sturdy. Something that can go off road too,” was all he replied. Before the enthusiastic bike salesman had a chance to respond, something caught Earl’s eye. The shimmering blue frame, the black seats and handlebars. It even had a bell attached to it.

“Can I see this one?” Asked Earl.

“Sure thing, man.” The bearded man unclipped the carabiner from his belt loop and found a small gold key. He unlocked the wire that ran through the bikes spokes and wheeled the bike to Earl. “You can even ride it around the store a bit if you’d like. See if you like the feel of it.” The bike was in his hands. The phone began to ring, and the man walked back to his position at the counter. Earl wheeled the bike around the store a little bit. He did not know what differentiated a good bike from a bad bike, but he liked the way that this one felt. The man, still busy talking to a customer on the phone about the price of replacement tires, paid no attention to Earl. The shop was reasonably small, and the door was only about twenty feet from where he stood. Suddenly Earl thought of the voice. The intense feeling of guilt came back to him, and the idea of acquiring the bike honestly was nearly powerful enough to stop him, but it was not powerful enough. Once a criminal always a criminal thought Earl as he dashed towards the door with the bike in hand. The bearded man dropped the phone and leapt over the counter in an attempt to grab a hold of Earl but he was too late. Earl was out the door and pedaling down the street, ringing his bell and zigzagging through traffic. He turned around for less than one second, checking to make sure he had evaded the bearded man. There was a honk, a screech, and a momentary blur in Earl’s peripheral vision before his vision went black.

Much like before, from the blackness Earl began to float closer and closer into the blinding light until he was surrounded by it. Earl felt the same intense feelings of guilt and terror that he had experienced the first time. He knew that whatever was to happen next would not be good. “EARL,” said the voice. Earl stared back into the light speechless, anticipating what the voice was going to say next. “EARL,” boomed the voice again. Earl still said nothing. He waited to be scolded and to be told errors of his ways once again, but all that he heard the voice say from within the bright light was “you can’t trick God, you idiot.”