Buckley

 

“Oh…this isn’t going to work….” Crestfallen, LS gazed down at the huge round bulge in her big black bag mounted on the side of the bike. I couldn’t really see what she was talking about. It just looked like her bike bag. But when she tried to walk the bike a tiny bit in the street, it wobbled.

            We were standing outside the Richmond Swim Center after a horrendously crowded swim. I actually had to circle swim (swimmers will know what I mean; non-swimmers don’t need to know what this is other than it is something heinously undesirable.) And, I had to share the lane with The Creep! Fortunately, the third swimmer was The Nice Man, which is why I chose the lane in the first place. I knew he’d know how to circle swim.

            Oh, this isn’t really important to the story other than to let you know I was exhausted and a bit cranky after navigating the crowded pool for an hour.

            Now as I watched LS try to shift the round weight around in her bike bag to keep herself from toppling over once she got on the bike, I wondered how I could help.

“I don’t think Z understood how getting the watermelon home on the bike was going to be a challenge.” LS sighed softly, shaking her head.

 How did she end up with a watermelon at the pool you might ask? Z, another swimmer, had brought it to the pool and given it to LS. Which was very nice. But, now transport home was a dilemma.

            “Maybe you can put the watermelon in the Fiat and I can keep it for you till tomorrow. You could bring your truck then.”

            “That’s not going to work I don’t think….” Her voice trailed off.

            “I would just give you a ride home but I really have to work this afternoon.”

            “Oh, no, that’s okay. I understand. I’ll figure something out.”

            But we both just continued to stand there staring at her bike bag, stymied by a watermelon.

                        Then, I thought to myself, what the hell. I have till 5 pm to get the work done. It’s only 12:30 or so now. I could help!

            “Let’s just put the watermelon in the Fiat and I’ll drive it to your house,” I offered.

            “Oh, no….really?”
            “Sure, it won’t take long. Besides it’s a good story! Wish I could put you in the Fiat too but you have your bike.”

            “Oh, that’s okay.”

            “Let’s put it on the floor behind the driver’s seat,” I suggested.

            I attempted to push the seat forward. But it was stuck. When was the last time I’d put anything in the back? I couldn’t even remember.

            “Ummm…. okay, I know, let’s just put it on the seat of the passenger side.”

            “Great!” LS lifted the huge heavy dark green fruit out of her bike bag and put it on the front seat next to me.

            “Okay, I’ll just meet you at your house,” I called out as she got on her bike and I pulled out into the street.

 

            Driving down Potrero toward LS’s house in El Cerrito the car alert alarm suddenly went off. You know the sound the car makes when there’s something wrong. I checked my rearview mirror. Had I left the trunk open? I saw no evidence of this. I looked down at my gauges. Was I in Drive? (The other day, I think because of my broken wrist, I hadn’t gotten the car into gear and it has started beeping at me.) But today, I’m in Drive. Was the car overheating? I glanced down at the heat gauges. Nope. All seemed fine.

            As the signal changed, the car stopped beeping. Okay, maybe just a false alarm. But I was nervous now.

            What was wrong with my car?

            Maybe there was an issue with the car and I shouldn’t be driving a watermelon to El Cerrito!

            As I crossed San Pablo, the alarm went off again.

            Damn!

            I drove up a block and pulled over.  What was wrong?

            I glanced over at the watermelon, calmly reposing in the passenger seat. And then it hit me! The watermelon was so heavy that it had set off the seatbelt alert.

            I needed to buckle it in!

            Laughing, I reached around my ‘passenger’ to grab the seatbelt, then pulled it over and snapped in on.

            “There you go! We’re safe now!” I announced. The watermelon looked snug all buckled in.

            I headed down Potrero and made the left on Liberty. The alarm was silent.

            I continued to laugh to myself the 3 or 4 blocks down Liberty till I pulled up in front of LS’s house. Got out of the car and glanced down the street. Here she was, coming up on her bike. Good timing!

            When she got to her house, she walked her bike into the back, as I was bursting to tell her the story of the watermelon setting off the seatbelt sensor alarm.

            She cracked up. Of course. It was a hilarious story. “We should name it!” she suggested.

            As I unbuckled the watermelon, she reached in to retrieve it. “How about Buckley?” I offered.

            “Perfect!” she said, asking me if I wanted to come in for a slice.

            But now I had to go. Work called. But Buckley was home. The Fiat wasn’t broken. And I had plenty of time to do my work.

          In the end,  it had all worked out. Whew!