Nicholas recently inherited a rusty radio flyer tricycle from the neighbors. Aside from the rust it's in great shape. The pedals still move the wheels, and most importantly, the bell chimes a distinct-brrriing! I didn't even realize Nicholas knew the word bike, until he pointed at it in the corner of the porch, hidden behind the rocking chair and tangled amidst cobwebs, and distinctly said "BK." His vowels are a bit muted, but the consonants came out strong and clear. He won't be able to even touch the pedals, I thought, but nevertheless I wheeled out the bike and wiped it clean. Nicholas climbed astride the metal frame eagerly, and firmly grasped both handlebars as if he already knew what he was doing. He left his feet astride either side, but when I encouraged him to fit them to the pedals, they reached! I gently pushed him down the driveway, and his smile widened from ear to ear. His little feet firmly planted on the pedals, his little knees pumped up and down with my pushing...he held on tighter when I went faster, and chortled in delight. He truly has a chortle--a giggle that bursts out in loud delight whenever he's especially happy about something. It's usually followed by happy feet, but in this case his feet were already occupied. As we slowed down he began to inspect the bike and came across the little bell. Something that makes noise! A little boy's delight. If you ask him to ring the bell he does with intense concentration like it means something very important.
As I lie in bed tonight and listen to the thunder rumbling above, I realize the little bike is still out in the yard. His daddy has given it a shiny new coat of red and white and I'm afraid it might get wet and return to its rusty former self. It's under our giant umbrella tree in the front yard, however, so I'm comforted that it will be sheltered from the storm. I picture the bike as I last saw it, tucked under the tree in the bright, hot May afternoon. I realize this image has formed a memory, one that I will return to whenever I am nostalgic for the days of little boy Nicholas. This makes me sad and happy at the same time.
