Sunday morning. Two insomniacs sleepin' in. Counting. Waiting on it to be late enough or early enough to make coffee, let the dogs out, dial each other's numbers....Kimbies and I. "Whatchya doin' today?" "Ah, dunno. It's cold. I wish we could just go to the beach" "yeah" "Soon sister, soon...." "yeah". "Hey, you think we should get bikes? For the beach, I mean?" "To like ride at sunrise?" "Yeah....yeah, I do"
Sunday morning. 10:45. Two sibs in painted pajamas and sock feet waiting on the sun to do it's job. "What's you're agenda for today?" "I dunno. Wanna go bike shoppin'?"
So we did. With Papa, Kimbies hub, in tow. We made the rounds. Walmart, K-Mart, Target, (Sears doesn't sell 'em anymore) We tooled around toy departments, balancing on pegs, braking fast for little old ladies with buggies. We cruised up the sock aisles and banged 360's in "I accidently got here" automotive departments. We shimmied on seats and "grrrrrrrr'ed" the handlebars. We posed for pretend pictures. "How cool do I look on this one?"
We left empty handed over and over again. Dreaming of the perfect ride. "It'll have a cushy seat, tilted a little forward" "I wanna basket" "Not me, I wanna beer rack, a little fender in the back with bungy cords" "Hmmmmm, I just wanna be able to ride facing the sun, not the sidewalk, all crunched over" " I wanna banana seat" "You said that already!"
And then we went there. The "Sports" store! The doors opened automatically. Beeping. We passed rows and rows of boring clothes, water bottles, and neon colored nerf balls. Rubber tires were lined up one after another like wet noses poking through a fence. The bikes! We looked around. Unleashed them. All of them. "This one's mine! Mine! Mine!" Papa's little ride was deja vue, and after three trips around the cleats, he was slingin' Sunday morning papers with his right hand....Cha!Chink! "Morning, Mrs. Robinson!" Kimbies wobbled. Teetered. Smiled. Gained speed. "Clink~Clink"~ her right hand tinked the handlebar, "gonna get a little bell soon" ! I climbed on from the back, no sissy bar on this baby, straddled the black and red and tan Freedom Flyer, and took off. Big wheels turning. We waved when we passed each other. Two fingers raised for peace....Kimbies clinking!
And then we parked them.
Got in the car and drove home.
Thank God we turned around......
Tonight on my way home from nowhere, big wheels turnin', I heard New Orleans in the wind. And then, there around the corner, up the hill, broken sidewalk between us, was the trumpet player....