Two Wheels

        One fine early fall morning, a young delivery man stepped out of his truck. He walked up the driveway of a small, well-maintained white ranch house. He carried a large cardboard box pressed tightly against his wide chest. His long muscular arms were outstretched, and his fingers tightly gripped the sides of the box. The words, “FRAGILE, TV, Glass, THIS SIDE UP,” appeared in large black letters on the big box.

               Slowly, the delivery man turned onto the narrow concrete sidewalk and walked up three small slate steps leading to a small porch. Bending slowly, he gently placed the package down, resting it against the house and rang the doorbell. Promptly, a whitehaired man slowly opened the door. His thin white hair on top of his head was turned in every direction. His red and black plaid flannel shirt had some crumbs on it just under his chin. “Good day Sir, I need you to sign for a delivery”, said the delivery man. The old man stared at the delivery man and then at the box.

               “I didn’t order anything,”, he said, eyeing the box suspiciously. “I certainly did not order a TV. I don’t even watch TV.” The delivery man, overworked and underpaid, tried his best to be patient and kind. He thought of his own grandparents and how he would want them to be treated. “Sir, if you would just sign for this today, and if there is an error, we can fix it another day through central delivery.” The old man, with his hand shaking, reluctantly signed the small computer screen that the delivery man pulled from his back pocket. “Would you like me to bring it inside?”, the delivery man asked. The old man nodded yes. The delivery man walked through a small foyer and again gently placed the box down in the living room. He wanted to leave as quickly as possible, knowing he had a full day of deliveries ahead. “Would you like a drink, or anything to eat?”, the old man asked weakly. “Thanks very much, but I’m good. Have a nice day”, said the delivery man. He smiled sincerely and wished the old man a nice day. “Enjoy your TV”, he said, quickly returning to his idling truck.

               Confused, the old man stared at the box. Even if he wanted to watch TV, there was no place for a six-foot-wide screen in his small home. The widower’s walls were covered with his deceased wife’s paintings and framed needlepoints. Old family photos hung on most of the remaining surfaces.

               The old man retrieved a knife, scissors, and his reading glasses from the kitchen. He began by the task at hand by carefully cutting into four thick plastic straps, pulling them off the box. He pried staples off the top panel of the box and pulled out a packing slip. This wasn’t an ordinary TV! According to the packing slip, and his old eyes, he saw a large white electric bicycle. There was also a gift receipt in the box. “Please enjoy this gift, for I cannot. I only ask that you share your adventures with me someday. This is a gift, please enjoy it. No strings attached.” He scratched his head, trying to figure out what to make of this gift sent anonymously.

The bike was too heavy to lift out of the box, so he decided to remove the box around the bike. The shiny bike was folded in half and had small, thick, knobbed tires. There were electrical wires everywhere. There was a small round headlight on the front of the bike and a square red taillight on the back. The old man was more than seventy years old. He hadn’t ridden a bike in at least thirty years. He  used to love to ride together bikes with his wife, but that so long time ago. His memories made him happy and sad at the same time. Now, he looked at the e-bike in his living room. What in the world was he going to do with this gift?

               He pulled a thick instruction manual from the box, sat down, and began reading. He unfolded the bike and charged the battery. His mind was still sharp, but his body was frail. He was walked around his small block once or twice a week with a cane. Perhaps because he was a retired Chemist, his higher-level brain functions were still excellent. Reading every day and playing computer games may have also helped him stay mentally sharp. He had meals delivered during the week and took taxis to his doctor appointments. Once a month he attended a retiree luncheon with former coworkers, and a book club at the local library. He missed his wife terribly, but he tried to keep busy. All in all, he felt he was doing well at this point in his life.

               After reading the manual, he was worn out and took a short nap. When he awoke, the bike was fully charged, and so was he. He dug deeply into his courage reserve and decided to take the bike out for a short first ride. It was no easy task getting the heavy bike out the front door and down the steps. He relied on gravity, keeping a firm grasp on the brakes, slowly working his way down the steps. His movements were in stark contrast to that of the delivery man’s only hours earlier. He walked slowly down the driveway and continued to a nearby vacant church’s parking lot.

               In the lot, he sat on the comfortable seat, and put his feet up on the wide pedals. He pedaled slowly, almost too slowly, almost tipping over. The bike weighed at least sixty-five pounds. According to the manual, when in doubt, apply both brakes evenly! This would cut off all power to the engine and hopefully get the rider out of any jam. The powerful engine hummed and he gripped the brakes whenever he felt unsure of himself – which was often. He made wide turns in the parking lot and learned to coordinate pedaling and turning. He engaged the wrist throttle on the straightaways.

After about thirty exhilarating minutes, he felt confident enough to ride the bike home along the road. He pedaled up the driveway and pulled the bike into the garage with newfound senses of joy and accomplishment. He thought, maybe it is possible to teach old dogs new tricks. Perhaps, best of all, you never forget how to ride a bicycle.

The next day, brimming with confidence, he decided to ride the bike again. With safety in mind, he waited until nine AM when most people would be at work. He walked the bike slowly down the driveway just as he had the day before, pulling on the brakes to keep control down the incline. He mounted the bike, rode to the corner, making the first righthand turn up a hill. The slope was gentle at first but then became much steeper. He could never walk up this hill, much less pedal a regular bike up it. The e-bike hummed along effortlessly as he advanced the speed levels. He was enjoying every single second.

               At the top of the hill, he stopped and looked out over the lush green valley. The sun shone brightly in the clear blue sky and lit up the red and golden leaves on the trees. The grass was still green, but the musty smell of fall and early winter cold hung in the air. The hills in the distance looked like a painting. It was as if an artist had dipped his brush in different colors and made dots up and down the hills. He was grateful to God and to his secret benefactor for this awesome view.

               He rode slowly down the hill, continuing to savor the gorgeous views. He was inspired to sing his favorite John Denver song, “Take Me Home Country Roads”. He cried as he sang. He hadn’t felt freedom and joy like this in so long. After his ride, he buzzed with energy. He tidied up the house and cooked a large pot of vegetable soup. It was amazing the effect that bike was having on him.

               The next day he decided to have a real adventure. He felt like a kid again as he packed a thermos with vegetable soup, and a banana. He was going to ride along the river, about a ten-minute ride from home. He carefully navigated the quiet streets, including school zones to get to the river. Trees lined a path for about a ¼ mile until he came to the riverbank. Here was a well-worn trail used by walkers, runners, bikers, and dog walkers. Fortunately, he had the whole place to himself. He sat on a bench overlooking the river, and eagerly ate his tasty lunch. It tasted even more delicious outside.

               Down by the river, the air was especially fresh and clean. The deep dark water flowed swiftly. The sun shone sideways through the trees and brush along the riverbank. Birds circled overhead in search of prey. Soft white fluffy clouds lay low in the sky. The bumpy ride along the riverbank made his inside and outside parts jiggle joyfully. He felt like a ten-year-old boy again. He remembered his first “big” bike, a present for his tenth birthday. It had large, curved handlebars and a banana seat, complete with a large sissy bar. He smiled from ear to ear.

               The daily rides continued throughout the fall. Most days were quiet with golden sunshine and falling leaves. Many people waved and shouted, “nice bike”, as he rode by. Often, the old man would stop the bike and breathe deeply just to savor the moment. He tried to commit the beautiful scenery to memory. Sometimes squirrels, chipmunks, and an occasional mouse, would dart quickly in front of his front tire. He slowed the bike and steered straight, and the animals would cross safely, or dart back in the direction they had come from. Large groups of deer in the fields would glance up at him, taking a break from munching grass. It seemed to him that the deer wondered what he was doing out here on this strange machine. Once, close to the road, he saw a magnificent eight-point buck. The beautiful creature paid no mind to the old man’s admiring glances.

                His highest mileage one day was fifteen miles. According to the manual, the battery range was about twenty-five miles on one charge, but he didn’t want to push his luck. During that fifteen-mile day he sang plenty of songs from John Denver’s Greatest Hits. “Sunshine on my Shoulders”, and his all-time favorite, “Take Me Home Country Roads”. Once again, the e-bike rider thanked God for nature’s beauty, and for the unknown benefactor that had made these rides possible.

               Sadly, the days were getting shorter. Temperatures sank a little lower each day. The man rode as much as he could before the inevitable winter and snow would arrive. He rode his bike to the local library, grocery store and post office. He fastened a small milk crate on the back with bungie cords and tied down his books and groceries. When he wasn’t riding his bike, he used his cane a lot less. He buzzed with energy and had less aches and pains.

               On this last ride of the season, he bundled up with a heavy jacket, scarf, and gloves. He made sure he could still press the brakes through his gloves. Because he felt this would be the last ride for a while, he wanted to recreate his very first ride up the hill. He longed to see the valley for the last time until springtime.

He rode the bike down his driveway. Long gone were the early intrepid days when he walked the bike down. He rode down the block, made the first right turn, and went up the hill. His nose was cold and started to run a bit. He casually used the back of his glove to wipe his nose. His actions were childlike, but in a good way. He continued to ride higher up the hill than he had ever gone before. Near the top, the houses were spread further apart. Yards were tidy, and there were many boats and trailers parked in driveways and backyards. There were a few greenkeepers’ trucks parked. Workers were blowing leaves and applying fertilizer.

He continued to the very top of the hill, ignoring multiple dead-end signs. At the end of the road, he saw a big blue house with a large, detached garage. There was a man at the end of his driveway getting his mail out of his mailbox. His hands securely held onto to two large wheels. As soon as he saw the man on the bike, he used one hand to wave him down. The old man stopped his bike immediately. The homeowner said, “Hello! I’ve been waiting for you. Please, come in and tell me all about your biking adventures.” Both men smiled openly and honestly. The old man dismounted his bike. Together, they wheeled their way slowly up a metal ramp into the big blue house. The homeowner expertly navigated his wheelchair, while the old man walked his e-bike beside him.