Soupy Saturdays With the Pain and the Great One (9 page)

“You’ll be good at bike riding too.” I shook my head. Mitchell patted my back. “You’ll see,” he said.

I reminded him to make sure the seat on my bike was very low. I reminded him that I needed to be able to put my feet on the ground whenever I wanted. Mitchell held the bike steady as I got on. My knees were shaking. My stomach felt funny.

“Now … close your eyes,” Mitchell said.

“Close my eyes!” I said. “Are you crazy?”

“Come on, Abigail. Just
close
your eyes and
feel
yourself balance on the bike.”

“I can’t!” I cried. “I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” Mitchell said.

“Promise you won’t let go?”

“I promise.”

So I closed my eyes.
Maybe I’ll never open them
, I thought.

“Okay,” Mitchell said. “Very good. Now let’s give it a try.”

His voice was so soft I wasn’t sure what he said. So I didn’t move. I just sat on the bike with my eyes closed.

“Abigail,” Mitchell said. “Open your eyes and pedal.”

“Pedal?” I said, as if that was a crazy idea.

“Yes, pedal.”

So I started to pedal. I pedaled very, very slowly.

“Faster,” Mitchell called. “Pedal faster.”

So I did.

“That’s it.… Keep pedaling.”

Mitchell ran, holding on to the back of my bike. As long as he was running with me and holding on to the bike, I was okay. The second he let go, I fell. I was glad I was wearing padded
everything
. “You see!” I told Mitchell. “I knew I would fall.”

“You know why you fell?” Mitchell asked. “You fell because you stopped pedaling.”

“I always fall when I stop,” I told him.

“
Aha
!” Mitchell said.

“Aha, what?”

“Stop
equals
fall,”
Mitchell said. “We’ve solved the problem.”

“What problem?”

“Your problem,” Mitchell said, as if he was talking about math. “If you want to stop pedaling, you have to brake and step to the ground. Pedal, brake, step to the ground. Got that?”

“Pedal, brake, step to the ground,” I repeated.

“That’s it,” Mitchell said. “Let’s try again.”

So I tried again. Mitch held my bike steady until I got going. Then he ran with the bike. I couldn’t tell when he let go. I just kept pedaling and pedaling—until I braked—and jumped off my bike. This time I didn’t fall. But my bike did. It fell over on its side. Too bad it wasn’t padded, like me.

“You know why your bike fell?” Mitch called, running to catch up with me.

I shook my head.

“Because you let go,” he said. “When you step off your bike you have to hold on to it.”

“You didn’t tell me that,” I said. “You said ‘Pedal, brake, step to the ground.’ ”

“Well, now you know,” Mitch said, very softly. “So, let’s give it another try.”

“Do I have to?”

“If you want to be able to ride, you do.”

I thought about Emily, Sasha, and Kaylee on their bikes. Then I thought about the Pain singing
Abigail can’t ride a bike …
and how good it would feel to prove he was wrong.

So I tried again.

And again.

And again.

Soon I was pedaling on my own. And instead of running
after me, Mitch was pumping his arm.
Yes!
I reminded myself to hold on to my bike every time I came to a stop.
Pedal, brake, step to the ground.… Pedal, brake, step to the ground
. By the time Mom, Dad, and the Pain came back, I was riding up and down the road. I was even practicing wobbly turns. I couldn’t wait to tell my friends!

Then I heard the Pain call, “Who’s that weirdo on wheels?”

“That’s no weirdo,” Mitch called back. “That’s your sister.”

“My sister can’t ride a bike,” the Pain called.

I whizzed by the Pain, singing, “Oh yes, I can!” Then I tried a show-offy turn, lost my balance, and flew off my bike—right into a big pile of leaves. After a minute I
picked myself up. “How about that trick?” I called. “I’ll bet you can’t do a flying leap like that!”

The Pain shook his head. “This proves it. You
are
a weirdo on wheels!”

“That’s why you’re glad I’m your sister,” I told him.

“Who says I’m glad?”

“Think about it,” I said. “You
could
have a boring, ordinary sister. Instead, you have me!”

Then I got back on my bike and rode away, with the Pain calling, “Abigail … wait! Abigail …” But I was already pedaling as fast as I could. And inside my helmet, I was smiling.

The Last Word from the Great One

The next Saturday it rained. When I went looking for my markers I couldn’t find them. “Did you take my best markers?” I asked the Pain.

He said, “Maybe.”

So I shouted. “You know you can’t take my markers without asking. That’s a rule. Give them back. Right now!”

So he threw them at me and laughed.

“Ha ha! Ha ha!”

That really made me mad. So I yelled, “Pick up my markers right now, you little pain. Pick them up and put them back in their box or you’ll be very, very sorry.”

The Last Word from the Pain

My sister thinks she’s so great but this time when she called me a pain I laughed. I laughed and then I said, “And you’re such a … such a …”

And she said, “Such a what?”

And I said, “Such a big bowl of soup!”

And she said, “Everybody likes soup.”

And I said, “Not spider soup. And that’s what you are. You’re a big bowl of spider soup!”