Mike and the Bike..

deacon

deacon

minor bike philosopher
I have been trying to get people involved in writing as a hobby for years. Everyone things you have to be Hemmingway and write best sellers or else why bother. Well guys it's just fun really. So in the continuing effort to convert you illiterates I suggest this. A continuing short story. Everyone contributes a few words each time you read the story. There is no direction and no ouline no story requirements except each new addition advance the story in some direction more or less compatable with what came before.

His name was Michael and he was a nerd according to all who knew him. When the other kids were out shooting hoops, Michael was inside dreaming of adventure. One day Michael stumbled onto an Internet forum about motorized bicycles. Michael had a drivers license but no money for a car. It was a ***** to be be a poor nerd. A nerd should be rich, or at least his family should be, so that he can have all the high tech toys a nerd deserves. Michael's computer was barely adequate to surf the Net, but he still spent a lot of time on line.

His imagination ran wild at the thought of a motorized bicycle. I can ride it to school, to the park or even run away from this miserable town, he thought.

Next?
 
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ah so that's the hold up well type what you want and add it.... but try to advance the story line lol.. Sometimes when I work on my blog novel all i want to write is . His shirt was green, and stop for the day lol...
 
So when Michael's Uncle offered to let him use the shop and donate his experience to the project, Michael began to think of money for the kit.

He had decided that the only kit he could afford was the small two stroke gasoline kit from China. There were many dealers to choose from, so he picked the one with a good reputation and a reasonable price. He didn't go for the cheapest or the most expensive kit. The kit with shipping would be about $150 dollars. To Michael, who lived with his divorced mother, it was a heck of a lot of money.

He checked out his saving, money squirreled away in the uglies pair of socks every made, a Christmas present from his aunt several years earlier and never worn, Micheal had $82. It looked to him as if work of some kind was in his future.

Next
 
Mike wasn't well known in his neighborhood, even though it was a closed community. Mike spent most of his time inside the house with his books and computer. He had given up video games since he couldn't afford new ones, and he had long sense conquered all the free games available on line.

Since he didn't get out into the neighborhood often, he was almost a total stranger to the people who might have odd jobs for a high school senior. Still he had no choice, so he took the plunge on the first Saturday after he had made his decision to build a bike.

He spent his entire morning going door to door. He offered to clean yards and cut grass. Most of the people around him were as poor as he and his mother, so it was a grind. He wanted to give up several times, since he was not really the outgoing type but the dream of freedom kept him at it.


When he stopped for lunch, his mother suggested he try the small convenience store two blocks away. Mike figured he had nothing to lose so he walked the two blocks. The store was owned and operated by a young middle eastern couple.

"Hi, my name is Mike, I live a couple of blocks over. I am trying to earn some money for a bicycle," he purposefully did not say that it was a motorized bike.

"No Jobs," the man said in a heavily accented voice. His wife spoke excitedly to him in their native language. Mike turned to leave.

"You patch roof?" The man's voice was thick so Mike didn't quite understand. The store owner was obviously used to the idea that people didn't always understand him. While his wife watched the register he took mike to a store room stuck onto the rear of the building as an after thought.

Once in the building he showed mike the water marks on the ceiling. The roof had been leaning for a while. "You need something to patch the room with." Mike suggested

The owner showed Mike a can of black tarlike roof cement. Mike had seen his uncle use the black goo, so he knew what it was. When the owner bought the goo, the salesman obviously had convinced him to buy a plastic applicator. When the owner show Mike the 6' step ladder he expect Mike to use to reach the roof, Mike understood why the owner's wife didn't want her husband to do the repair. Getting on that roof was going to be risky. Still Mike needed the money.

He had the patch done and was off the roof in an hour, but it wasn't without a lot of work and the risk of injury. Still when the store owner handed him to badly worn $20 bill, he felt that it was worth the effort. The owner's wife pressed a cold can of Coke into his hand as he walked away.

Only fifty dollars more to go, he thought.
 
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After Mike went in search of work in the neighborhood a strange thing began to happen. The people he had spoken with began waving and smiling at him as he passed, even the ones who had no work for him seemed to recognize him. He found it odd that they recognize the skinny nerd who wanted to clean their gutters or cut their grass.

On the second Saturday Mike again when through the neighborhood asking for odd jobs. People at least smiled, when they rejected him. He did find two older neighbors who needed small things done in their yards. At one house he cleaned the gutters for ten bucks and at another he washed a two year old car for another ten. It wasn't much but it brought the amount of money he needed down. At the end of week two Mike was within striking distance.

He had an older man walk to the edge of his lawn as he was walking home from the bus stop. "Hey kid, you got the money for that bike yet?"

"No Sir, but I'm getting close."

"You are a little old for a bicycle. I would have pegged you for a junky old car kind of guy."

"I can't even afford this bike," Mike said with a smile. "Actually it's a motor kit for a bicycle. I don't have to have insurance or anything for it."

"Now that I would pay to see. You know it makes sense though. It's probable good on gas too."

"I do have a picture of an assembled bike. Mine won't look nearly as cool . The guy who built this one was a pro." Mike said it as he removed the creased picture, which a fellow nerd had printed off for him, from his empty wallet.

"Wow, looks kind of like an antique motorcycle. You can actually build this?" the old man asked.

"Lots of people do. My Uncle Pete is going to help me."

"BS your Uncle Pete is all thumbs. When you get that kit. bring down to my shop back in the alley. I'll help you put it together. I worked on cars back when I was able to work."

"That would be great, but I kind of promised Uncle Pete."

"Okay, well if you need anything come on down. By the way my lawnmower is broke. If you want to make ten bucks come down and cut the grass in my front yard. The back is all gravel and flower beds. My wife loves flowers."

Mike cut his little patch of grass that same afternoon and took the ten bucks. The last twenty dollars came the following weekend. Mike had his mom buy the bank check for him with the few extra dollars he earned that last Saturday.

The kit was on it's way to him on Monday of the following week.


It's been a while since I built one of these kits... One or more of you guys need to help me out here, or this thread will die.
 
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