The Key

I didn't get to ride today. Eric called as soon as I got home from school. He needed to come pick up the mural that my daughter painted for the ceremony. I sat here staring at my bike trying not to touch it. By the time Eric rang the door bell I was putting on my Sidi's. I thought I would just go spin around the lot for a minute while he used the bathroom. I grabbed Jack by the shorts hairs and we were gone. A few minutes later Eric comes outside. I'm hopping and spinning around and chit chatting when I realize I don't have a key to get back in the apartment.

Me: " Did you grab the keyes?"

Him: " No was I supposed too?"

Me: "We have on the same shirt!"

And we laughed. This is the thing about us. We can laugh at ourselves. We can laugh at each other. We can laugh at the world together, and it is hilarious. I tell him to start pushing buttons to see if someone is home. I continue to ride around the parking lot. He stands there. He tells me the buttons are on my building so I should be the one pushing them, but what he doesn't understand is that I am clipped in. I am connected and I don't want that to change. I'm feeling it even in the parking lot. Then we both get distracted and we start talking about my bike and how cool it is and how I don't ever want to go back to gears and I'm telling him about the last 3 rides at Yankee and how he should a been there and "Do you realize just how light my bike is?" and I unclip and hand it to him and he is marveling about Jack and I realize something as he is standing there with my bike in his hands. My best friend, who re-introduced me to the love of my life, (the love that has saved me from the grips of my own anguish)is getting married tomorrow.

The past fourteen years kinda play out in my mind, he is standing there oblivious to what is going on. Mystery Science theatre, Perkins and the Sunset Machine, Driving around to Coolio in the Skylark because we didn't know what else to do. Then at staggered intervals Love would strike one of the four of us, and we would disappear for a bit from each others lives, to reconvene for the important stuff like divorces and children dying, and just being present when life happens to each other.

I'm thinking about all this as we jump in the truck to go to the rental office to get a key. I notice his tux. I cannot believe Deb is letting him wear an ivory tux. I say something about it and we laugh some more. Then we bust out singing like we often do. We are especially prone to do this while riding. Stupid silly little ditty's. We are gabbing about who all is coming on Saturday to ride Owassipe. In the midst of all this I tell him that I have missed him. He pretends like he doesn't hear it,(like he does when I tell him that I love him) and we start talking about why no one would answer the buzzer for us. We surmise that it is because we are both wearing The Ride of Silence t-shirts, and people were in fear that we were like the Jehovah's Witnesses for the Church of the Rolling Wheel. We laugh some more. We get back to the apartment and he loads up the picture. It's time for him to go. As he drives away I say goodbye to the days that we would fly by the seat of our pants together to whatever trail we felt like riding whenever we we felt like doing it. I say good bye to the idea that we were just going to ride off into the single hood sunset together. It was a bad deal anyway. We thought about getting shirts made that said "He is my Brother!" or "I am not with Her!" He's getting married instead.

Jack is waiting when I come back in. "It's just me and you now Baby."


I talk to my bike. Sweet. I've lost my mind.