Buying the Bike

Today was the day. His father and I had talked about it and postponed it for long enough. It was time to get the boy a bike. At 41 inches and 33 pounds of energy, that would more than sufficiently keep a child twice his age 10 year old going strong we are always worried about when he will need to go to the ER for a broken bone or stitches.

He had now survived two weeks of rollerblading in PE class at school and has been ice-skating twice and nothing more than very minor bruises have resulted on his lithe and rubber like frame. So we were going to find him a bike.

I picked him up after school and after trying to remember the address and put it into the GPS unit I decided to trust my memory of where the desired bike store was.

This bike store is full of used (and some new) bikes and staffed by Kids that have graduated from the Boys and Girls club. They sell these bike learn to maintain them and run the operation with mentorship and instruction from leaders in the program.

We arrived easily enough just a little trepidation when I couldn’t see the sign from the highway. The boy walked into the store with large eyes and hardly a need for my hand that he usually hold when he is nervous. He went straight for the bikes that were his side. Few staff were in the store as we entered and we were one of three pairs that entered. The store was crowded and full of bikes and biking equipment.

As we walked around the seemingly disorganized line of small child bikes a stream of older teens steamed out of a small office. One large very dark skinned young man came over and asked us if we needed help.

“He is in need of a bike.”
“I am” came a self-confident voice from my little boy.
“OK, Come over here so I can see what size.” Came a hint of professionalism from the young man.
I lead the boy over and He was stood against a colorful graphic that showed the height measurements for people of all ages and what size bikes they need.
The young man brushed his hand gently over the top of my boys head. The contrast of color between the two shin tones was beautifully shocking. He pronounced that we would need a 16 inch bike and showed me when I asked how he knew.

We walked back the row of bikes and he showed us which bike were the correct size and which were definitely available. We quickly narrowed it down to a red or a blue and green. The red bike was tried and the joy reflected from my boys face into the dark skinned teen showing both his youth and his joy in helping a child find something great.

As we took the bike in the young man’s professional ism melted as he was now unsure of what to do. He was given instructions from a curt young woman and we paid a very reasonable price for the bike that would be cleaned fixed up and training wheels mounted by the time we returned from our brief trip.