There is a bruise forming on my right hip. It's going to be magnificent in size and color, that much I am sure of. Each time I start to write about it I have a fit of laughter, seek Michael out and laugh all over again. The only one not laughing is Arrow who probably thinks that our midnight bike ride was perfectly normal since he has nothing to compare it to.
I finally found a basket for my bike. It has two leather straps to wrap around the front handlebars and is big enough, but what wouldn't be?, for Arrow to sit comfortably in and go for a ride with me. At half past eleven last night I fixed the front and rear lights to the dutchie and tightened a flashing red and white headlamp to my forehead. I put Arrow in place and told him that he was not to get out until we came to a complete stop. We were off.
His little poodle head watched the road in front of us. I went slower that I usually would and constantly reassured him. I gripped his collar when we passed the yard with the barking dogs. Our first jaunt was going so well! Up Jackie Robinson St. we went. I wove left and right to get up the incline. At the top we saw Michael's bike light coming toward us. Arrow got excited at the sound of his voice.
"Pet Arrow so he calms down," I shouted out. We slowed and circled under the street lamp. I made a wide gentle arc and came to a stop, Arrow patiently sitting in his basket. I began to lose my balance, we were teetering and then we were down, down on the warm summer asphalt. When the bike came to a rest with me under it, Arrow gingerly hopped out as if he had simply taken an elevator to the first floor. He trotted off to the side of the road and found a spot to relieve himself while I flailed and shouted reassurances to Michael.
"I'm okay! I'm fine, just fine. Don't worry."
I always knew the bike was heavier than most. It was no small feat to extricate myself out from under it's yellow curves and flashing lights. I stood in the middle of the street with my headlamp flashing and Michael trying to catch Arrow who was intent on finding a second spot to poop.
We laughed all the way home imagining that Arrow probably though that was how we were always supposed to dismount. He was so graceful, much more so than I and so willing to get back into the basket.
I'm not sure that it is possible to exorcise the spazz in me. It's like a demon that dwells in my bones. All the practice in the world and I will still trip, still fall off a bike but I'm ok with that. I wouldn't have laughed as much as I did this morning. I could do without the bruise, but without the laughing? Never.