Regular readers might remember Ray and Marla from another photo I took along my commute. To refresh your memory or you want to start from the beginning, click here. I only looked back to make sure I got the names right and then again, after I finished writing this post, so I could insert the link. Here and here.
“The sun is back there.” Marla accordianed her legs to check Ray’s Outsider, but the little girl anticipated her move this time and pulled at the straps herself.
“I’m good.” Marla sensed a hint of defiance. Maybe it was just a memory of her own childhood.
“Someday, we’ll see it, I’m sure. Today, we are riding the PedalBuddy. Do you remember the last time we did that?”
“No. But, I remember you telling me I was snugged into a carrier on your back. I could see more than you could. And I pointed and kept asking questions. What’s that? Where are we going? Are we there yet?” Ray’s eyes danced remembering the story.
Marla laughed. The kind that fills the guts and spreads out until the whole body feels warm. For just that moment, Marly almost forgot that the trip on the PedalBuddy cost two pounds of beans for each of them. She’d carefully mixed Great Northerns, chick peas, and navy’s, so no one would guess she had a store under the floorboards. The last time, she didn’t have to pay for Ray, this time she did. And for certain, other riders would complain that Ray could not pedal her weight.
Tell me a story of when you were a little girl.” Ray pulled at Marla’s hand. “The one where you had your own bicycle and rode like the wind.”