Stories from My Youth: III - The Bike Accidents
I
Little Johnny, three years old, barely learned to talk, saw the older children at the park riding their tricycles, wanted Mama to get him one. Mama promised Johnny, but then little Kenny, Johnny's cousin, now also begged Mama to get him a tricycle. Mama scolded the two children, but, as old people are often soft-hearted towards the young, she bought not two tricycles, but instead one bike, she bought this interesting bike with two seats. The two boys were overjoyed, as was Mama ("Oh see how Mama laughs! You can only see her remaining teeth and not her eyes!"). Mama and the mothers of the boys took the boys to a nearby park, and the boys, after a fight over who gets the front seat ("Johnny is too kind, and Kenny exploits that!"), they rode around the trees. There were other kids riding too, and they had a small race. Kenny and Johnny's bike was of course faster, since they had two people pedaling. So they won, and sang in joy. Around the park they went, about the few trees remaining in this concrete forest, around tables where old men smoked and played chess, and some old women chatting about their grandchildren. They turned and turned, and about sharp corner their bike flipped. The boys crashed into the wooden bench near the mothers. The actions in the park paused for a second, and then everyone resume to their things. Mama and the mothers, however, quickly rushed to the boys. Johnny and Kenny, hearing that Mama is coming, picked themselves off the ground, dusted their now dirty shirt ("Remember to always keep clean!"), and stood with their hands on their back. The boys were bruised and bleeding on every limb, but upon the distressed smile of their Mama and mothers, the boys were also smiling. Mama asked, "does it hurt?" The boys shook their head. Then Mama said, "come, we will get you some ice -" Kenny yelled "Ice-cream?" Mother said, "No...ice for your wounds." "So-Ping", Mama said, "we can get ice cream too!"
Pain = ice cream...
II
Both Johnny and Kenny, a recent graduate of their respective kindergarten schools, received a bicycle from Mama. Very soon, the two boys learnt to ride the bikes without supporting wheels. Mama, however, decided that it is best that they kept their bikes at hers, so that whenever they visit (family gatherings at Mama's are usually biweekly) the two boys can ride their bikes in the halls of the apartment. On one such occasion, the two boys were racing in the dark halls of the apartment when Johnny, who was leading, rode over an oily puddle (nobody knows how that got there) and skitted. He crashed with his head first, and then bike landed on him, scraping his right knee. Kenny, who was following closely, also came crashing in and landed on his hands. Johnny was screaming as blood flooded the concrete floor, and Kenny, who got up, was also crying. But he, injured on his palms, ran to Mama's room, and called for help. Once again, Mama came rushing out, followed by the mothers. The fathers were sitting, talking of politics, drinking their beer. Kenny helped Johnny up, both Mother and Mama took Johnny's hands, and they slowly walked to Mama's apartment. ("Didn't I tell you to be careful?") The wounds were cleaned, but a scar remained on the knee cap.
Pain = tears!
III
The past week was Johnny's seventh birthday. Father actually took time off this weekend to take Johnny and his two brothers out to the park. As Kenny moved to another portion of town, and took his bike with him, so Johnny too took his bike with him to his new apartment. That day Johnny brought the bike with him to the park, and he raced against his brothers (who were on foot. They only had one bike). Father watched from the side to witness the triumph of his oldest son. How proud he feels for his son, who is good and smart! His other sons must be like him too, if not more brilliant. One of them shall become a lawyer, the other a doctor, and the last one an architect. He almost drools as he daydreams...O his sons, with their grandsons soccer team (the girls can be cheerleaders at the side)...Then there was aloud crash. Johnny was thrown off his bike after making a sharp turn. His elbows were bleeding badly, as with parts of his leg. His brothers stopped chasing him, and they started crying. Father calmly walked over to the children. Johnny was on the verge of tears. Father said, "Men have courage. Men don't cry. What good would crying do? Come, let us go to the fountain and we will wash off the blood. Then I will take you to eat wanton soup." The brothers also quieted down, and the men left the park.
Pain = courage?
Little Johnny, three years old, barely learned to talk, saw the older children at the park riding their tricycles, wanted Mama to get him one. Mama promised Johnny, but then little Kenny, Johnny's cousin, now also begged Mama to get him a tricycle. Mama scolded the two children, but, as old people are often soft-hearted towards the young, she bought not two tricycles, but instead one bike, she bought this interesting bike with two seats. The two boys were overjoyed, as was Mama ("Oh see how Mama laughs! You can only see her remaining teeth and not her eyes!"). Mama and the mothers of the boys took the boys to a nearby park, and the boys, after a fight over who gets the front seat ("Johnny is too kind, and Kenny exploits that!"), they rode around the trees. There were other kids riding too, and they had a small race. Kenny and Johnny's bike was of course faster, since they had two people pedaling. So they won, and sang in joy. Around the park they went, about the few trees remaining in this concrete forest, around tables where old men smoked and played chess, and some old women chatting about their grandchildren. They turned and turned, and about sharp corner their bike flipped. The boys crashed into the wooden bench near the mothers. The actions in the park paused for a second, and then everyone resume to their things. Mama and the mothers, however, quickly rushed to the boys. Johnny and Kenny, hearing that Mama is coming, picked themselves off the ground, dusted their now dirty shirt ("Remember to always keep clean!"), and stood with their hands on their back. The boys were bruised and bleeding on every limb, but upon the distressed smile of their Mama and mothers, the boys were also smiling. Mama asked, "does it hurt?" The boys shook their head. Then Mama said, "come, we will get you some ice -" Kenny yelled "Ice-cream?" Mother said, "No...ice for your wounds." "So-Ping", Mama said, "we can get ice cream too!"
Pain = ice cream...
II
Both Johnny and Kenny, a recent graduate of their respective kindergarten schools, received a bicycle from Mama. Very soon, the two boys learnt to ride the bikes without supporting wheels. Mama, however, decided that it is best that they kept their bikes at hers, so that whenever they visit (family gatherings at Mama's are usually biweekly) the two boys can ride their bikes in the halls of the apartment. On one such occasion, the two boys were racing in the dark halls of the apartment when Johnny, who was leading, rode over an oily puddle (nobody knows how that got there) and skitted. He crashed with his head first, and then bike landed on him, scraping his right knee. Kenny, who was following closely, also came crashing in and landed on his hands. Johnny was screaming as blood flooded the concrete floor, and Kenny, who got up, was also crying. But he, injured on his palms, ran to Mama's room, and called for help. Once again, Mama came rushing out, followed by the mothers. The fathers were sitting, talking of politics, drinking their beer. Kenny helped Johnny up, both Mother and Mama took Johnny's hands, and they slowly walked to Mama's apartment. ("Didn't I tell you to be careful?") The wounds were cleaned, but a scar remained on the knee cap.
Pain = tears!
III
The past week was Johnny's seventh birthday. Father actually took time off this weekend to take Johnny and his two brothers out to the park. As Kenny moved to another portion of town, and took his bike with him, so Johnny too took his bike with him to his new apartment. That day Johnny brought the bike with him to the park, and he raced against his brothers (who were on foot. They only had one bike). Father watched from the side to witness the triumph of his oldest son. How proud he feels for his son, who is good and smart! His other sons must be like him too, if not more brilliant. One of them shall become a lawyer, the other a doctor, and the last one an architect. He almost drools as he daydreams...O his sons, with their grandsons soccer team (the girls can be cheerleaders at the side)...Then there was aloud crash. Johnny was thrown off his bike after making a sharp turn. His elbows were bleeding badly, as with parts of his leg. His brothers stopped chasing him, and they started crying. Father calmly walked over to the children. Johnny was on the verge of tears. Father said, "Men have courage. Men don't cry. What good would crying do? Come, let us go to the fountain and we will wash off the blood. Then I will take you to eat wanton soup." The brothers also quieted down, and the men left the park.
Pain = courage?
posted by Tristan at 10:55 p.m.
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