A Lift
On a hot, sweltering day I rode my bike to the highway and then a mile north to where our road dead-ended at yet another highway. That was where our neighborhood grocery store was, where we at Old Ocean bought bread, milk, and such. This particular trip of mine was to get a cold pop and some gum or candy. On the way home, I saw a colored boy about my age walking in the same direction I was going. I offered him a lift on my bike, and he got on the cross bar. As we rode, we talked and were laughing and having a good time. We were only together for about a mile. When I got home, Mother and Pop said they passed us on the highway. I hadn’t even noticed. Pop kidded me a little about pumping the colored boy on my bike. I hadn’t thought anything about it, really. But, I do remember that it took a couple of days for his odor to leave me. He had certainly been a lot more fun to be with than the boy across the street, and I’ve never been sorry for befriending him.