Rocket bicycle

I know many children ask for a pony, but I wanted a bicycle with rockets strapped to it.

I hate horses! And that’s not a strong enough statement in my opinion. I think they are such dumb animals. I have never understood how anyone could find them handsome, as I’ve heard some people say they are. No, they aren’t and neither are their cousins ponies or donkeys. I don’t find anything redeeming about them. My idea of the best place for a horse is in a can of Alpo, period. Yes, I know they are popular gifts for birthdays and Christmas, but not me. I know many children ask for a pony, but I wanted a bicycle with rockets strapped to it. But I didn’t get one until recently.

Every time I had a birthday, I would be asked what I would like and the answer was always the same, a rocket bicycle. That would be greeted with a roll of the eyes and then followed up with the words, be serious.

“But I am serious!” I replied when my grandfather, a man of infinite wisdom and laughter asked me the same question he did every birthday.

But on my 16th birthday my grandfather didn’t ask me that question. However, after he wished me a happy birthday with a bear like hug, he took me by the hand and said, “come with me.”
Of course, the natural question for me to ask was, “where are we going?” This was unusual for him, because every other birthday he gave me a card and a gift certificate to get some toy trucks or military vehicles such as tanks, but not this time. I didn’t even get a card. But being that he was my grandfather, I naturally went with him.

We walked out of the backdoor of his house stopping briefly so my grandmother, who was perpetually in the kitchen either cooking a meal or cleaning up after we all had eaten, could give me a big hug with her wet hands. I was lucky. Other times, she had sticky something or the other on her fingers. This time she didn’t. After thanking her, I continued my walk with my grandfather into the back garden and down the path to a shed where he kept his lawn mower and other such useless items. Once we got there, he unlocked it and swung the doors wide open and turned to look at me. “Surprise!” he shouted and I looked a little bewildered.

“Yes grandpa, I’m surprised. But I’m not quite sure what I’m supposed to be surprised about.”

He kept smiling. “Well,” he began, “what is it you’ve asked me to get you on every birthday ever since you were able to drool?”
“A bicycle with rockets attached to it,” I replied nonchalantly.

“Then, here’s your gift,” he said pointing into the shed which no longer had the lawnmower in it, or any other dangerous landscaping equipment. But I couldn’t quite make out what else was in there. Then he turned on the light and low and behold, I saw a pile of junk with a worn out bicycle wheel with broken spokes laying in a pile on the floor. I wasn’t quite sure whether I should start bawling at a possible cruel joke or cheer, though I wasn’t sure what I would be cheering. I gulped instead.

“Well, my son,” he said still with a twinkle in his eye and laughter in his voice. “This is the present you’ve always wanted. A bicycle with rockets attached to it.”
“No, it isn’t,” I replied abruptly. “It’s a pile of junk.”
“Well,” explained my grandfather, “if you had wanted a pony, I would’ve gone down the road to farmer Joe and bought you a pony, which would’ve come fully equipped with legs and a heart to keep its blood flowing. However, you did not want to be like every other normal boy or girl. You wanted something that nobody had. So, an idea came to me. I went down to the hardware store and old Mr Lindbergh, and I got on to the internet and with the help of AI, that stuff is great you know, it told us what we needed to make a bicycle with rockets attached to it. I bought all the stuff from the hardware store and brought it home and here it is. Isn’t that such a wonderful birthday present?”

My grandmother had come out of her comfort zone and joined us in the shed. I wasn’t sure what to say. I guess I brought it on myself. I didn’t ask for one that was all put together, so they took it upon themselves to buy me the stuff to make it myself. Suddenly, I began to smile and then laugh. I decided that it was actually a wonderful birthday present.

Later that day, after I had cut my birthday cake and was allowed a tiny bit of beer to wash it down, I left my family and went down to the shed. I spent the next 10 days there only coming out for meals and to sleep. Finally, at the end of that time I called all my family together and brought out an odd looking cycle with a couple of broken spokes. Well, I figured with rockets attached to it, it would fly and I wouldn’t have to pedal it anywhere. My family did what every family would do when faced with such a contraption. They gasped.

“Are you really going to get onto that?” my mother asked. And in answer to her question, I climbed onto the bike which was on stand and begun to pedal. The faster I pedalled, the brighter the ignition switch on the back wheel became and then when it reached critical point, it lit the two rockets on either side of the dilapidated bike and then suddenly with a tremendous roar I flew off.

I have no idea where I am writing you this from. Somewhere in the great beyond. I have no idea how I got here or how I get back, but I do understand I heard my sister snicker saying, “he should’ve asked for a pony like everyone else.”
Note to self, if I ever get back to reality I’ll ask for a can of Alpo for my 17th birthday and feed it to Ebony, my giant Husky. At least one of us will be happy.