You Did What on My Bike?

You Did What on My Bike?

The pale turquoise, retro men’s bike sat wrapped in a plastic tarp in the basement family room of Cathy’s house. It was brand new, except for two or three times Bob rode it when we lived in Austin, Texas. When we moved back to Washington State, I knew Bob wouldn’t be in any condition to pedal the steep roads because he had broken his back the year before, so we left it in the basement family room of his sister’s house.  We knew it would be taken care of and told Cathy and her husband, Marv, to ride it anytime. We should have known Bob’s little brother, Johnny, would take a liking to it.

Ah, our little brother, Johnny - what can I say about him? He’s short and feisty, has red hair that rarely sees a comb, and everyone loves him. He’s what I would call “an old hippie” because he’s 50 years old and looks and acts about 20. We call him our little brother because he was born 3 months premature and no one expected him to survive into his teens, but he did. He has a lot of medical problems, but he handles everything in a carefree way.

Johnny has had two hip replacements, but it has not curtailed his love for bike riding and bicycles (he has six of them). He also has a passion for early model Volkswagen Beetles; he used to restore them in his makeshift garage behind his old Airstream. His doctor has told him repeatedly that riding his bike would be extremely detrimental to his hips, but that won’t stop him. He has always lived his life as though there were no tomorrow. Some might call him irresponsible, but he isn’t.  He just knows he’s been living on borrowed time his whole life and wants to make the most of every day.

Johnny is a gifted painter and works on multi-million dollar homes painting intricate handrails and ornate cornices. He does all that with a bad back. He may have to take many breaks when he works, but he’s there bright and early and does a fantastic job. People just love him and respect his good work ethic.  In fact, he was adopted (not legally) by a wealthy elderly couple whose children had basically abandoned them. Johnny does everything for them and they love him. That’s just Johnny.

So by now, I guess you’ve figured it out; Johnny took the bike. It's not surprising; he just happened to go by Cathy’s house and saw it. He had no idea Bob had a bike, but when he spotted the tarp, he just had to know.  “Hey, Cathy, what’s under the tarp?” Johnny asked as he tossed it off. “Cool, is this your bike?”

“No, it’s Bob’s. He’s not using it right now so we’re keeping it for him," she said as she walked over to the bike, setting her hand on the seat as if she knew what was about to happen. 

"So nobody rides it?" he asked.

"Marv rides it every once in a while. Bob said he would pick it up when they move back to Texas.”

“Well, tell Bob I’m gonna take it home.”

“You can’t do that,” Cathy said. “It’s Bob’s bike and we told him we’d keep it for him until he goes back to Texas.”

“Tell him I’m gonna clean it up for him. He won’t be riding it for a while anyway,” he said, and promptly took it and loaded it in his truck. When Johnny sets his mind on doing something, he just does it. He’d give you the shirt off his back, but he’d also take yours if he liked it. That's Johnny!

Johnny is single by choice and currently lives on a houseboat in Portland, Oregon. There’s not much room there so he can’t really store a bike, or seven bikes for that matter. When Cathy told Bob about Johnny taking the bike, he just said, “That’s Johnny.”  I have to admit that I sometimes find it awfully annoying. I mean, we paid $500 for that bike. But he’s Bob’s little brother, and Bob always says, “He can have anything of mine that he wants. He’s my little brother.” Eventually (it took him two weeks), Johnny did call Bob to tell him.

“So, where are you keeping it?" Bob asked. "I know there's no room on the houseboat.”

“Oh, I’m doing some painting at that elderly couple's house so I’m storing it there.  I don't have to worry about them taking it for a ride. Besides, if I have too much to drink and don’t want to drive home, I just ride the bike home.” 

"How can I argue with that? At least you're being responsible. I guess it makes sense to keep it there."

“Yeah, I keep a bike at each one of the homes I’m working at. They’re all good people and they’ve all got money, so I doubt anyone would want to steal a bike. Yours is safe, don’t worry.”

“Okay, fine,” Bob said, “Just promise me you won’t ride my bike in that naked bike riders parade.” 

Author's Note: For those of you who have never heard of it, there is an annual WNBR (World’s Naked Bike Ride) held in Portland, Oregon.  And yes, Johnny rode in it, but we still don’t know if he used Bob’s bike.  I really don’t think Bob wants to know, nor do I think we’ll ever get that bike back. But, that’s Johnny!

Word count: 927 (including title)