Thursday, July 30, 2009

The Orange Bike : A short story by Ann Marie Grumm

We were staying at the red cottage that year.  I remember my oldest brother, Glenn, diving off the railing of the deck.  I have several fond memories of him.  Though. . . He always teased and harassed me.  He would sorta beat on me, causing me to whine or cry.  Dad would yell at ME ! "Stop the whining, or else!"

Glenn paid a lot of attention to me as we were growing up.  I felt special.  I always wanted to be just like him, "Little Glenn."

The family took a trip to Vermont.  We were on a mission to get a ten speed bike for Glenn.   I vaguely remember a local grocery or deli . . .  They were recycling bottles, it was a novel idea.  I remember wanting a soda.  "Not today." That was always dad's response.

Perhaps it was a lovely day, the whole family on a venture . . . I bet it was raining.  It was always raining when we went to Vermont . . . Perhaps it was Glenn's birthday . . He had been longing for this bike . . . It was orange with very thin tires.

But something awful happened that night.

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