Fly the Night

Bikes make for good friends. They get you places, save you money and energy, and really fun. However, bikes have problems of their own. Muriel was reminded of that rather quickly. It started yesterday morning. The old biddy went out for a morning ride when she heard a snap in the wheel. Muriel looked down in such surprise.

“What the…?!?” she began to ask. Before she knew, crash! Straight down to the ground in the grass next to the dirt road. Muriel lifted her head.

“Ow,” she mumbled. The woman looked around her. Her eyes then fell upon her good old red and silver bike. The frame holding the front wheel together had worked itself loose. The old biddy straightened up her glasses.

“Oh…” she mumbled. Muriel crawled over to collect her broken bike.

At the Sunny Plum Café, Pauline, Lewis, and Clyde waited at the time. The rich old biddy looked at her watch.

“Muriel’s late,” she complained.

“Give her some time,” Lewis said. “She’d have a good reason for being late.” Pauline frowned.

“She’d better!” she said aloud. Clyde played with her cup on the table.

“Think she ‘ad sum trouble?” she asked. Pauline kicked her under the table.

“Ow!” Clyde howled.

“Keep your voice down!” the rich old biddy hissed. Clyde frowned at her and stuck out her tongue. Pauline pretended to ignore her.

In an hour, Muriel rode her bike into town. Her old friend wobbled the whole ride. She held on tightly to the bike. All eyes fell on her as she rode by them. The old biddy ignored the whispers behind her. Her eyes went down to the front wheel every five seconds.

Please don’t break! Please don’t break! Please don’t break!

The wheel really started to shake. Her eyes widened as her face broke out in sweat.

No!

The wheel snapped loose again and broke apart. “Oh no!” Muriel yelled as she fell down on the cobblestone street. Two old ladies walked over to her, staring.

“You alright?” one of them asked her. Muriel didn’t reply. She just stayed right where she was. The other woman looked at her friend.

“Um,” she said. “That looks bad.”

“Yes,” her friend whispered back. “How long has she had that bike?”

“I think about twelve years,” she said. Her friend whistled to herself.

“Whoa,” she said. “That look? Doesn’t she have a driver’s license?” The woman’s friend nodded at her.

“But she’s a horrible driver,” the friend said.

“Oh,” the woman said. Her friend nodded.

“Yeah,” she said back. The two women took one look at Muriel before walking away. The old biddy waited until they were gone. She finally poked her head out of hiding before moving again.

At the café, Clyde looked up out the window.

“’Ey out!” she called. “Look who it is!” The other two looked up to Muriel limbed over to the glass door. She pushed it open and waddled in. Her friends looked at her in reasonable worry.

“Muriel?” Lewis asked. The friend didn’t say a word as she sat down at the table. She panted for a few seconds.

“Ow,” she whimpered. Her friends crowded at her back.

“Muriel?” Clyde asked again. The old biddy looked up at her.

“I’m good,” she lied in a high-pitched voice. “Just had a little bike accident.” The old biddy rubbed on her leg. “Ow.” Her friends didn’t look convinced.

“You sure?” Pauline asked. Muriel nodded with her teeth clenched. The others slowly sat back with worried silence. The old biddy tightly shut her eyes. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and began to smile.

“Hey!” she said aloud. “It’s gone!” The old biddy gave into loud laugher. She rose to her feet in racing joy.

“The pain is gone!” she exclaimed. She turned around to her friends and frowned. “But that still leaves me bike,” she said.

“Well, what’s the matter with it?” Lewis asked.

“The wheel keeps popping off,” the old biddy said. The farmer raised an eyebrow at her.

“How?” she asked. Muriel shrugged at her.

“It just happened this morning,” she explained. Lewis examined the bike. She raised her eyebrow rather puzzled.

“What the heck?” she asked. The farmer turned to Muriel.

“Mur,” she said, “How long have you had this bike?” The old biddy took a moment to count up in her head.

“It’ll be thirteen years this year,” she said. The other three’s faces dropped at those words. Muriel shrugged at them with a goofy grin.

“What?” she asked. “It’s a good bike… or it was.”

“Take a look at this,” Lewis said. Muriel leaned down to where she was pointing. She raised an eyebrow rather confused.

“What… is that?” she asked.

“The place that held the window together have weathered down,” Lewis replied. Muriel looked at her with a face of discomfort.

“Can it fixed?” she asked. Lewis made a face at her friend.

“Yes…” she said, “But you’ll need new parts.” Muriel pondered this for a few seconds. She looked up at her friends, frowning.

“I know where I can look,” the woman mumbled. The four old biddies went to the bike shop where Muriel first bought the bike. The man behind the counter perked up when he saw her push open the door.

“Ms. Fairbanks!” he exclaimed. “How have you been?” The old biddy waved at him.

“Good, Fred,” she said, “I’m doing good. And how about you?”

“My knees are really stiff,” Fred complained, “Other than that, I’m okay. How can I help you today?” Muriel walked over to the desk.

“Do you remember about twelve years after my divorce,” she began, “When I came in here looking for a bike?” Fred same at the day that he met her.

“Oh yes,” he said. “You just escaped from your husband then.”

“Do you remember the bike I bought?” she asked.

“Of course,” he replied. “Beautiful red frame?”

“Yes.”

“Silver stripes?”

“Yep.”

“Well-built frame?”

“Oh yes.”

“Strong handlebars?”

“Yes.”

Fred looked at her curiously through her black-framed glasses. “Why do you ask about it?”

“I want to return it,” Muriel replied. The bike shop owner frowned.

“What for?” he asked.

“The front wheel broken this morning!” the old biddy complained. Fred straightened up his glasses and shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Fairbanks,” he said. “I can’t take back a bike that’s old and broken.”

“Why not?” Muriel asked.

“It’s not in our policy,” Fred replied. The old biddy was about to argue back when Lewis held up her hand.

“Do you at least have the spare parts to fix it?” the farmer asked. The bike shop owner brushed back some gray hair from his face.

“I’ll see what I have,” he replied. The old man turned and went into the back.

By noon, the old biddies returned outside of the Sunny Plum with the right parts to fix Muriel’s bike with. Lewis sat down in front of it.

“You sure you can do this?” Muriel asked.

“I work on farm equipment all the time,” Lewis said. “Let me do this.” Muriel put up her hands.

“Alright,” she said.

“Thank you,” the farmer said. She reached into her overalls and pulled out her tools.

“Hey ladies!” a voice boomed behind them. The old biddies looked up to see Tucker walking out towards them. Clyde waved at him.

“’Ey Tuck!” she called out. Pauline smacked her in the head with her purse.

“Ow!” the dirty old biddy howled. Tucker looked over at Lewis and Muriel.

“What’cha doing over there?” he asked.

“I’m about to fix Muriel’s bike,” the farmer replied. Tucker wiped his hands on his apron.

“Let me have a crack at it!” he said.

“No, I’m good here,” Lewis said.

“Please?” he insisted as he walked over to the farmer and the bike. “I have fixed bikes before in my youth. This should be a snap!” He shoved Lewis aside before she speak and got to work. The farmer frowned at him.

“Oh, take over, why do you?” she mumbled under her breath. In twenty minutes, Sid fixed up the bike.

“See? Good as new!” he said. The old biddies looked at him with amazed looks on their faces. Lewis frowned at him.

“Let’s see you ride it,” she said.

“Alright!” Tucker said. He climbed and started to ride. Lewis and her friends watched him ride the bike around like a big kid. The farmer snorted.

“I could’ve done that,” she muttered. However, the joy ended up being short-lived. Tucker rode back towards the café when he heard a snap at the front wheel.

“Uh-oh,” was the last thing he said before crashing to the ground. The old biddies ran over for a look.

“You okay?” Muriel asked. The man couldn’t even speak; he only let out a high-pitched squeal. The four friends went into the café laughing and ordered him a tea with extra, extra, extra sugar. Annie looked at them with an annoyed and confused look on her face.

“If you guys just wanted sugar, you could’ve just told me,” she complained. “Why are you even getting so much?” Muriel turned to her, still laughing.

“You’ll see,” she replied. At those words, Tucker wandered in sore and panting.

“Honey!” his wife yelled. He didn’t answer as he sat down at the tea and took a sip of the super sweet tea.

Round and Round We Go

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