Off
the seat of a
bicycle
Chapter 74 My friend Rick
Rick was a standard issue Texan. He was smarter than most guys and could think abstractly and we generally talked about ideas.
I
met him by driving up to his house and saying hello. That’s how I meet
most people … I just go up and say hello. I talk to anybody.
He
came out of his garage real fast the first time, as if he had some good
stuff he didn’t want anybody to steal. I was just stopping by to say
hello.
We got to know each other after his house flooded. He got
a couple inches of floodwater during a heavy rain, and I saw him
pulling out carpet as I left for work the next day.
I yelled out, hey bub … I told him I couldn’t help him right then but would be over that night.
That night and the next several weeks I helped him repaint the entire inside of his house and lay tile in his entry and kitchen.
We
used my tools and I let him use my contractor discount at the paint
store, and I even called in a favor from some other guy to help lay the
tile. Tile is hard work. Afterwards I helped him move his furniture
back in from the garage.
I helped him re-do his entire house for
nothing … and this is the same guy whose wife told me she would applaud
in front of my house if it burned down.
Let me tell you about my friend.
Both
his daughters drank and drove to his house. His one daughter was an
full-out, can't trust her to run the microwave oven, alcoholic .....
and she drove drunk through the neighborhood and Rick never called and
reported either daughter to the police. Rick thinks it’s okay to let
members of his family endanger our community.
Rick complained to
me after his daughter got a second DWI ... he said it cost him a lot of
money to pay for her 6-month breathalyzer.
And when the police were again trying to force me off the road, my friend was the inside informer.
Yes he was, and it easy to figure.
I
set off on a bike ride one day and saw Rick and his friend Dee sitting
in the driveway drinking. I had a strong feeling neither wanted me to
come up the drive, but I did anyway.
I pulled up a chair and after
a short while, without any prior mention of bicycling, Dee said, ‘I
always drive close to bicycles when I see them on the road.’ That’s an
exact quote folks.
After his friend Dee declaring open
assaultive behavior towards bicycles, Rick never said anything about
it. Of course they were drunk., but what if Dee said, ‘I always drive
close to old ladies?’ What if he said, ‘I always drive close to
motorcycle policemen?’
I snapped back and told Dee that if he
did that to me, I would throw a bat at his head, and then I made a
gestural move as if I was flipping a bat up from my side. The fool was
so drunk that he flinched out of the way of the imaginary bat … but I
tell you something, if I did that to him on the road, the police would
arrest me and pat him on the head.
Interesting however, this was
the encounter where I figured out Rick was an informant ... which among
my friends is not? None of them ride a bike.
As I turned to leave, I
saw Rick quickly lean toward Dee as if to share a confidance ... I
figured either he was an informant or he was having an affair with my
wife ... not that I know for sure, but I affirmed he was an informant
several ways.
First was my original logic ,,, he was a friend, we
ate breakfast together each Saturday morning. Who else to betray you
except your friend ... the person you 'least expect.'
But pay
attention. Later Rick switched drinks at breakfast to match the same as
me. People don't switch drinks. Not from coffee to diet coke ... no way.
Also
I noticed him talking to me in casual manner while two men sat at the
seats across from us. It was too obvious and made me mad.
After
waiting a few more weeks, I decided to confront the dumb bastard. As we
left McDonalds in my van, I told him I wanted to show him something.
I
could feel him salavating that we were going out to the 'burial ground'
where I laid all the bodies row by row ... he could hardly wait to be
the important man stabbing me in the back.
We drove down the
back road through the fairgrounds and at one point I stopped and said
'about here.' We got out of the van and walked out front.
I said something like, it was here where they shot at me 4 times. Two behind, two in front of me.
He
asked, Who? I said the State Police. Then before he could respond, I
asked, Did they tell you that? Then repeated the same thing again: Did
they tell you that?
I wasn't expecting an answer because I already
knew the answer. Instead I turned and got back into the van, and when
he got in, I charged him again with the facts. I said, "They come to
you and tell you I'm violent without one act of violence ever."
And
then he affirmed, "Well they told me you were violent." He tailed off
and we said nothing more about it. Fuck you, I see you clear as day.
The
next week we went for breakfast, nothing said since the week before. On
the way, I pointed toward a cluster of trees down a gravel road and
said something about the shooting, then said 'right down there, two men
and a boy.'
I could tell he'd been coached since last meeting. He
didn't say anything, but he was searching for a word to tell me they
weren't phased. Neither was I at this point, but as Suede Brown
realized, I carry honor, won't go to the police, but am weak and have
no plan. Yeah, the police held all the cards ... they always have. The
tank will always run over the protester. The tank will always win.
This chapter is hopelessly unfinished....
Direct quotes from my friend, the taunting mf …
Bet you didn’t ride a bike in Indiana
Woulda lost in court anyway
The law of bulk
Dee rides a bike
What do you think, I have a microphone
Defender of assaultive and drunk driving
I waited for that mf just like I waited for james sb
In front of the walk-by line-up in katy
In front of the forensic psychiatrist
In front of Chad
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