Page 31 of Colombian Chemistry

“Ta-da!” Marcus said as he came to a stop.

I looked around, trying to figure out what his “ta-da” referenced. All I saw were some chickens running around pecking the ground beside two donkeys tied to a post.

“I don’t understand,” I said. “Ta-da what?”

“Ta-da... I got us two donkeys! We can ride them to the next town over. No walking. Boom.”

“Don-donkeys?” I nearly choked.

“I bought two donkeys. We can ride them the fifteen miles today to get to the town with the car. They assured me we could trade the donkeys for a ride and even get our money back. Pretty sweet, right?”

I stared blankly at Marcus before turning my dumbfounded stare to the small donkeys now eyeing me up.

“I’m not riding a donkey.” I shook my head.

“What?” Marcus furrowed his brow. “Why the hell not? I thought you’d be thrilled you didn’t have to walk.”

“Um, because riding donkeys is dangerous.”

His eyebrows shot to his hairline as his eyes went big. “Are... are you being serious right now?”

“Yes I’m being serious!” I stomped. “Riding horses and donkeys is a great way to end up paralyzed or with a traumatic brain injury. I happen to value my brain very much.”

He stared at me, blinking.

“I’m serious, Marcus. I’ve done the research. My mother wanted me to take riding lessons when I was younger, and before I agreed, I looked it up. Horseback riding is classified as a hazardous activity. Did you know that studies found it to be more dangerous than motorcycling, skiing, football, and rugby?”

“It’s not more dangerous than a motorcycle.” He scoffed.

“Is so,” I countered. “A rider’s head can be elevated up to three meters from the ground, and horses can travel at speeds over thirty miles per hour. Another studied showed as far as the severity of injuries goes, horseback rider injuries were only exceeded by that of pedestrians struck by a car.”

“What are you even rambling about?” He placed his hands on his head and stared at me like I had three heads.

“I mean, it’s dangerous! You’re asking me to get on a prey animal that is inherently cautious of its surroundings, and its first instinct when it gets scared is to run! And at speeds of over thirty miles per hour.”

He jutted a thumb at the donkeys munching on big mouthfuls of hay. “These donkeys are not hitting thirty miles per hour.”

“Well, they can still get some speed. It’s like asking me to get into a car that may or may not go the direction or speed I want it to. I mean, would you seriously get into a car that you can’t control?”

He crossed his arms and lifted his chin with a half-smirk. “I think I demonstrated yesterday there is no such thing as a car I can’t control... even driving down the side of a mountain.”

“Well, I’m not doing it. I value my life too much.”

Marcus stared at me slack-jawed before finally exhaling a sigh. “Fine. You can walk. I hope your shoes give you blisters. Big ones. Me? I’m hopping on Cheech here and kicking back in style all the way to the next town.”

“Cheech?”

He chuckled. “Yeah. I named them Cheech and Chong.”

“Of course you would.” I shook my head with a chuckle.

“Well, you need to lead Chong then. They’re a bonded pair, so we have to take them together.”

I groaned but agreed and walked over to my donkey. Its huge ears twitched when I reached out and scratched it. “You are pretty cute.”

He pushed me with his nose.

“Aw, he likes you,” Marcus said as he untwisted the reins from the hitching post.