Chronicles Revealed

Chapter 1: Fixing A Bike

Forty days ago, he left us. It was the most painful, the most devastating time of our lives. It felt as if a knife had been stuck right in the middle of our hearts, never to be pulled out again, buried deeper and twisted around each passing day. He did not act differently that day nor did he say anything to forewarn us of the darkness that was going to enshroud us, of the agony that would grip us all our lives. No word of warning or sign at all that he would be leaving very soon, except, perhaps, for the visit he made to his Uncle that rain-soaked night.

Just like that he was gone.

I could still see him fixing his son's bike in the garage area, getting soiled and sweating, while I looked on from the porch and giving him some suggestions now and then.

You might as well sell that bike to the junk guy, I told him jokingly. You can still make good money from it and start saving to buy your kid a new one, maybe as your Xmas gift.  If your money is not enough I can lend it to you.  However, take note of the word "lend", it's the operative word!

No, it's quite okay Pops, he replied. No problemo! By the time I'm through with this it will be better than new, you'll see. He loves this bike! It's my first big gift to him. I'll buy him another gift for Christmas. Maybe, a tablet? At his age, he's already showing good potential with computers and high-tech gadgets. It seems second nature to him.

Okay, I guess you know better.  If you change your mind, I'm just around.  You don't have to knock!  The door will open for you automatically.

Thanks again, Pops.

The bike is second-hand and second-hands don't normally last that long. You'll be stuck with repairs and end up buying a new one!

Don't worry, Pops. I can do this. I'm not bragging.  Trust me!  By next week, he'll be driving this around the village and showing off to his friends.   Joke only!  Your grandson is not a braggart.  He is like you.

I think you have something else in mind there.  You want something from me, don't you, I asked as if I had no idea of what he wanted..  

No hidden agenda, Pops.  I just want to say from the bottom of my heart that I think you are a one of a kind father and I'm proud to be your son.

And I'm proud to be your father, I said to return the nice words.

I always liked him teasing me.  He was full of wit and can also be naughty in a funny way.  He can certainly execute delicate drop shots.  He learned a lot from the maker, too.

Mama overheard our conversation and remarked: You guys might as well enlist in the mutual admiration society.  You can come out on top of the list!  You better start cleaning up.  Wash your hands.  Dinner will be served soon.  Mama and I were on vacation leave and the kids still on their summer break, so Mama cooked.  

Smells good, Mama. Son, we have another delicious supper awaiting us.  By the time our vacation ends, we will be as fat as Mama Cass! 

Our youngest arrived as we were entering the house.  He was visibly piqued.

Traffic was horrible, he lamented. Two hours for a five kilometer trip from the office to the house.  I don't know how many red lights  we had on the way.  Bumper to bumper and vehicles hardly moved, crawled like snails.  The green lights were useless.  Everyone was stuck in the junction.  I think I have to buy myself a motorcycle or I'll get crazy dealing with the traffic.  It's rush hour every hour every day.  With a motorcycle I can just slither through the traffic and even take the sidewalk if necessary and no traffic enforcer around.  I will not take those habal-habals.  They are highway robbers.  I am not going to allow them to exploit my desire to go home.  I have not seen my youngest so upset at the traffic.