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Show 18-3 "Annie, I have a surprise for you. Want to come see?" Father asked as we hung up the dish towels to dry. "It's out back." I could not imagine what Father could mean. He sounded happier than he had in days, than he had really since he'd come home from the war. He sounded like my father did when I was very young. We closed the screen quietly behind us so as not to wake Mother and walked out to the garage. The car was in the driveway and the garage doors were shut. "It's in here." Father fumbled with the keys and the lock. He swung the doors open wide and reached up to the shelf where he kept the flashlight. As he brought the light down, I saw a motorcycle leaning against the wall. Father moved the light down its length, lighting bits and pieces of it. It gleamed of leather and metal, and Father smoothed it with his hand. Then he wheeled it out into the driveway. "When did you get it? Why didn't you tell me?" I circled Father and the motorcycle, poking my finger between the spikes and feeling the bumpy tires. "I picked it up this morning and then sort of forgot about it with all that happened. I thought I could use it to get back and forth to the hospital. Leave you two with the car. Unless you think your mother would like to ride this?" "Oh, Daddy. Can't you see her in one of her big hats?" I leaned against the handlebars and both of us laughed. Father swung his leg up and over the seat. "Well, she's not too happy about me riding it. But what the . . . Want to come for a ride?" I backed up. "Really? Is it safe?" "Now, do you think I'd take you if it weren't? Climb on. Trust your old father." I swung my leg over behind Father, pulling my skirt high on my legs. My feet rested on a little step. I wrapped my arms around Father and turned my face, resting my cheek on his broad, warm back. "All set? Here we go." |
