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Grandma

Started by Darrel, June 12, 2017, 03:37:08 PM

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Darrel

When I started writing this short story, it was supposed to be about my bicycle and I was going to post it in the "What Toy" thread but now that I look at it it is really about the influence a very special lady had in my young life.  So it gets its own thread.

I hope you enjoy reading this.

The bicycle is big, way bigger than the boy, he has to reach up over his head to take hold of the handle bars. It's all blue, silver and rust colored.  It's wearing an extra set tires over its tires to help keep the tubes in where they belong.  It proudly displays a plaque that reads Schwinn

The boy is a big boy, but not real big.  The bicycle belongs to him, well in reality, it belongs to his big sisters but they never ride it and the boy is the one who has done all the work to keep it running.  And besides, possession is 9/10 of the law, so yes, the bicycle is his.  It's really a good thing that the bicycle had belonged to his sisters in its former life.  Had it belonged to his big brother, he never would have been able to ride it, but being a girl's bike, there was no bar for him to straddle and keep him from reaching the peddles.

The grandmother is old, has white hair, can't get out of bed or even walk anymore, so she sits, looking out the window watching her grandchildren play.  She is also very wise, when the grandkids come in, she may have sage words of advice or encouragement, but more often than not she just eggs them on. The grandmother is the one that suggested the extra set of tires.  She said that Grandpa used to do that to keep his Model T on the road.

The shoe shop is at the end of Payton Ln.  It's what keeps Payton Ln. from going right out into the neighbor's raspberry patch.  The proprietor of the shoe shop works for Pacific Lumber and repairs his coworkers boots evenings and weekends. 

Payton Ln. is exactly one block long.  It starts at Highway 36, just across from the Hydesville Community Church and ends at the shoe shop.  The boy's family parks their cars right in the lane because with the shoe shop there nobody ever drives by anyway.  Payton Ln. may have been chip sealed at one time but now it's just pea gravel and a great place for a boy and his bicycle. 

The boy takes his bicycle up to the other end of Payton Ln. and rides his beloved bicycle toward the shoe shop, picking up as much speed as he can.  At the last possible second he peddles backwards locking the coaster brakes and skids to a stop just a couple of feet before hitting the wall of the shoe shop.  The bicycle seat hits him in the middle of his back. 

The boy runs into the house, "Grandma, did you see that?" The boy asks while still using his outdoor voice. 

"No, I didn't see it!" The grandmother replied, using her outdoor voice even though she hadn't been outdoors in years. "I was too scared to watch!"  And then, using her indoor voice she added,  "Take the seat off that bike and it won't hit you in the back."  So the boy took the seat off his bicycle, he couldn't sit on it anyway because his legs were too short and besides, it just got in the way.

Then the boy took his bike back up to the other end of Payton Ln. and headed toward the shoe shop as fast as he could and once again, he peddled backwards onto the coaster brakes and skidded to a stop just a couple of feet away from the shoe shop, but the seat didn't hit him in the back. So the boy did some thinking.  What if he went faster? . . . . .  what if he waited just a little bit longer to hit the skids? . . . . . He could skid to a stop just a few inches away from the shoe shop! . . . . .  That would really scare Grandma!!!

So the boy studied his skid marks, exactly where they started and where they ended.  The boy did all the calculations as to exactly where he'd have to start pedaling backwards to get the brakes to lock up in just the right place so that when the dust settled, both he and his bicycle would be in exactly the right place. Then the boy made a very wise decision.  He chose to sneak up on the exact right spot to hit the skids, in other words, take multiple passes getting just a little closer each time, because the last thing he wanted to do was have his calculations be off and hit the shoe shop wall at 100 mph.

So for the better part of the afternoon, that is what the boy did, he rode his bicycle faster and faster and peddled backwards later and later until at last he was skidding to a stop just an inch or two away from the shoe shop wall. 

"Grandma, Grandma!  Did you see?  Did you see?"  The boy asked, once again forgetting that he was indoors. 

"I didn't see a thing!  I didn't see a thing!" The grandmother answered also forgetting that she was indoors and hadn't been outdoors in years.

"You gotta watch Grandma!  You just gotta watch!" Exclaimed the boy in a voice that was almost an indoor voice.

"Ok, I'll watch." Promised the grandmother in a voice that truly was an indoor voice.  "I'll watch."

So the boy took his bicycle back to the other end of Payton Ln. for his final approach. Faster and faster he pumped the peddles, every fiber of his being focused on the exact spot where he had to start peddling backwards and at exactly the right time, backwards went the peddles and the boy zoomed past at 100 mph!  There were no brakes so the boy did the only other thing possible he hit the shoe shop wall.

When the dust settled and the boy pulled his aching body from the wreckage, he somehow made it into the house while holding his crotch where it had hit that bar that comes up from the peddles to the handlebars on a girls bike.  Oh how it hurt!

The door wasn't even open yet when the grandmother's voice bombarded the boys ears.  There was no doubt about it, the grandmother had never had an indoor voice.  "I saw!!! I saw!!!  I was so scared that I couldn't get my eyes shut."  And the grandmother laughed and the boy moaned huddled in the recliner.  And soon the grandmother's laughter turned to tears and the boy found his way into her arms and not too long after, the boy was laughing.  And when the last laugh was laughed and the last tear was cried, the grandmother said, "Darrel, go fix the brakes on that bicycle and try it again!"
1992 LT40HD

If I don't pick myself up by my own bootstraps, nobody else will.

slider

Good job Darrell. I have crashed some bikes and the bent up a few motor cycles but it is funny in some ways i am still the kid from long ago.Just like your grandma.
al glenn

yukon cornelius

You are a good story teller. Thanks for sharing!
It seems I am a coarse thread bolt in a world of fine threaded nuts!

Making a living with a manual mill can be done!

sawguy21

 :D :D That sounds like something I would have done.
old age and treachery will always overcome youth and enthusiasm

Magicman

I wish I'd had a bicycle growing up, but then I surely would have wrecked too.  When I was 31 years old I bought an SL 125 Honda motorcycle.  My knee complains every day from that wreck.   ::)
Knothole Sawmill, LLC     '98 Wood-Mizer LT40SuperHydraulic   WM Million BF Club Member   WM Pro Sawyer Network

It's Weird being the Same Age as Old People

Never allow your "need" to make money to exceed your "desire" to provide quality service.....The Magicman

timberking

Magic, my best friend had the same bike and he crashed into a car and almost killed him.  Didn't think he would ever walk and lost use of right arm.  15 years old in 1974.

Darrel

That was the only bike I ever had as a kid. Learned how to turn wrenches on that bike and how to patch inner tubes. And yes, I learned how coaster brakes work and how to fix'em. With that bike, I learned that one doesn't need shiny and new is just money wasted and of late my wife has been teaching me that this is not necessarily so. 

If you want it, you gotta work hard for it and that is still true, especially when it comes to relationships.
1992 LT40HD

If I don't pick myself up by my own bootstraps, nobody else will.

samandothers

Great story Darrell. Thank you for sharing.  If you hit your head on the end of the handlebars where the grip is worn off you end up with stiches in your forehead!

sawguy21

And how might you have learned that? :D My first bike was an old CCM man's bike, like Darrel's it was far too big for me. Dad took the seat off and wrapped foam on the frame so I could reach the pedals. I lost my brakes when the chain came off, I went over the handle bars into wild roses (wasn't supposed to be on the road). I wore some serious road rash after that one. Getting my pant cuffs caught between the chain and sprocket also created problems.
old age and treachery will always overcome youth and enthusiasm

BradMarks

Great story told.  I still a wear a scar on my ankle, age 4 or 5, learning about coaster brakes on a steep hill. Ya gotta use em :D  Sticking your foot in the spokes to stop is not recommended.

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