{"id":295,"date":"2026-03-01T23:34:41","date_gmt":"2026-03-01T23:34:41","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/newstephenddev.wpenginepowered.com\/?page_id=295"},"modified":"2026-03-01T23:50:54","modified_gmt":"2026-03-01T23:50:54","slug":"motorcycle-sunday","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.stephen-davenport.com\/?page_id=295","title":{"rendered":"MOTORCYCLE SUNDAY"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Motorcycle Sunday<\/h2>\n\n\n\n
\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

1965<\/p>\n\n\n\n

On the June morning of my son\u2019s tenth birthday, I woke up in a surge of joy. For three days it had been raining, but now the Sunday sun poured through the window onto my face. We wouldn\u2019t have to postpone the birthday party after all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAt last you\u2019re awake!\u201d my wife said, reaching for my hand. \u201cI\u2019ve been waiting for hours.\u201d Her head rested on my shoulder, and her body touched mine all along its length.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, it\u2019s Siddy\u2019s birthday,\u201d I said. \u201cAnd the weather\u2019s fine.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI know. I\u2019ve been watching the sky through the windows.\u201d She turned and planted a kiss on my chest. \u201cMmmm. Nice.\u201d And moved my hand under her pajama top.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPeg, we better not. Siddy\u2019ll wake up early today.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWe\u2019ve got time,\u201d she murmured, then kissed me again and began to unbutton her pajama top.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Of course it was just then our bedroom door burst open and our son charged into the room and up to the side of the bed. Peggy pulled back from me just in time. \u201cHappy birthday, Siddy!\u201d I said, and under the covers, Peggy buttoned her top again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The sun coming in through the windows lay on the lovely roundness of Siddy\u2019s head and lighted his blond hair and I reached out to hug him, but Siddy was jumping up and down and was unhuggable. \u201cHey, get up. It\u2019s my birthday and it\u2019s not raining!\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peggy sat up in bed and sang, \u201cHappy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Sidereeeeno, happy birthday to yoooou.\u201d She leaned over me and I looked straight up at her round and pendulous breasts under her pajama top while she kissed our son on his forehead, and I was overcome with happiness at the day that stretched out splendidly before us: I would paddle Peggy and Siddy and Siddy\u2019s friend, Petey McLaughlin, in the family canoe across the Barkhamstead Lake Reservoir to a picnic site where we\u2019d cook the hot dogs and eat the birthday cake and give the presents. And tonight, after our beloved son was fast asleep, what he had just  interrupted was a promise Peggy would keep.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

An hour later, I got up from the breakfast table to carry the canoe from the shed behind the dorm Peggy and I parented at Miss Oliver\u2019s School for Girls to the station wagon parked in the driveway. Peggy stood up too. \u201cWait, we\u2019ll help,\u201d she said, glancing at Siddy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, I can do it myself,\u201d I said, tossing my napkin on the table.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDaad! Its eighteen feet long,\u201d Siddy exclaimed. \u201cAnd you\u2019re just a little guy. It\u2019s too heavy for you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSit down, Son. Have another pancake,\u201d I said in my jauntiest voice.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAre you kidding?\u201d Siddy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pretended I didn\u2019t hear him and went out into the spangling June air, and bounced happily across the lawn to the shed. There, I flipped the canoe over, righting it, put one hand on the nearest gunwale, the other on the furthest, lifted, then kicked upward with my knee on the underside of the canoe, and lo and behold: the canoe was precisely balanced, inverted above my head, the middle cross brace resting on my shoulders. I carried it triumphantly toward the family station wagon parked in the driveway. Halfway there my arms began to quiver and the middle thwart hurt the back of my neck, but I glimpsed my son watching me through the kitchen window, surprise stamped on his face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then there was the sound of tires on the driveway\u2019s gravel and I turned my head under the canoe to see the McLaughlin\u2019s\u2019 Volkswagen bus delivering Petey for the expedition, and Petey\u2019s father, Hugh McLaughlin, at the wheel, grinning. With a grunt, I raised the canoe higher to slide it up on the roof rack. But I failed to lift it high enough and the bow hit the roof of the car and the canoe lurched out of my hands and crashed to the driveway just as Hugh slammed on his brakes and skidded to a stop inches away. I saw Siddy\u2019s I told-you-so expression in the kitchen window, and then Hugh poked his head out of his bus and said, \u201cJeez Fran, ya ougta take up weight lifting!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hugh\u2019s son Petey jumped out of the bus without even looking at me and ran into the house. \u201cWow, look at him run!\u201d Hugh exclaimed, unfolding his six and a half feet from the bus. \u201cHe\u2019s gonna be a star.\u201d Hugh had been a basketball hero at Ohio State, a hulking force beneath the boards. Today he was wearing a red sweatshirt with Ohio State Basketball emblazoned on the front and his crew cut was even shorter than usual. I liked to joke that Hugh\u2019s academic major at Ohio State was putting on his jock and his minor was tying his shoes, but Peggy always reminded me that all Hugh\u2019s real estate developments made a lot of money and they always reserved the best land for open spaces. \u201cWithout even being asked.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hugh gazed down at the canoe. \u201cWhasamatter? Can\u2019t ya get it up?\u201d He laughed. Then he bent down, picked up the canoe, and in one smooth movement slid it onto the rack. \u201cNow I gotta run. Got to get duded up for church. Too bad you\u2019re skipping.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell you can go for us both,\u201d I said. \u201cYou\u2019re big enough.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Hugh laughed again. \u201cReally, though. Today\u2019s the Sunday Father Woodward\u2019s gonna talk about reaching out to the ghetto.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh he talks about that every Sunday.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, well this time we\u2019re gonna do something, not just talk. You\u2019re gonna love the plan.\u201d Hugh put his arm around my shoulder. \u201cWe get these two basketball teams, see. One\u2019s black and one\u2019s white, naturally, and we play on each other\u2019s playgrounds.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh,\u201d I said, relieved. \u201cI don\u2019t know a thing about sports.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t have to know anything about sports, for cryin\u2019 out loud, Fran. These black kids are born knowing. Ever seen one of them jump? Makes one of our kids look like he\u2019s tied to the floor. Obvious racial characteristic.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I have to admit: I smirked at Hugh. \u201cBeing tied to the floor is an obvious racial characteristic?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cVery funny, Fran.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I didn\u2019t answer. A vision had just arrived in my head: tall beautiful black people were leaping up toward the distant roof of a huge gym. While some came down slowly, others floated up. All over the gym, a lovely, soothing, up and down grace, a liquid, vertical dance, and I was sitting in the stands, watching. The dance would go on forever and I didn\u2019t care. I would stay there forever too, watching these wonderful people play with their brand new medium: air.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFran?\u201d Hugh said. \u201cYou here?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSorry,\u201d I murmured.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLike I said, I\u2019ll take our kids into one of their playgrounds. And you pick up a team of black kids in there and bring them out here to play.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHugh! That\u2019s absurd. They\u2019ve got good playgrounds in there and we don\u2019t have any out here. You\u2019re just trying to have it both ways. You just want to live in the suburbs and not feel guilty.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s a pretty crappy thing to say, Fran,\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m sorry. I shouldn\u2019t have. I was really talking about myself.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cForget it,\u201d Hugh said, and turned away toward his bus.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cReally, I was,\u201d I insisted, trailing after Hugh. \u201cWhen I think about how much the kids I teach already have \u2013.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah yeah yeah,\u201d Hugh was squeezing his huge body under the steering wheel now. He leaned out the side window and said, \u201cThe real reason is just the idea of walkin\u2019 into one of those projects and saying, \u2018Hey let\u2019s go play some hoops!\u2019 makes guys like you wet your pants. Right, Fran? Or would ya try to read \u2018em poetry?\u201d He hit the ignition, gunned the engine, shot the lumbering bus into reverse all in one motion and was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the lake a little while later, the two boys and I carried the canoe to the water\u2019s edge while Peggy unloaded the station wagon. I was determined to regain the ecstatic mood I\u2019d been in before Hugh\u2019s arrival, but the instant the canoe was in the water, Petey McLaughlin grabbed a paddle and waded on the right side of the canoe straight to the bow where Siddy had made it clear he wanted to sit. \u201cThat\u2019s where I sit,\u201d Siddy said from the left side of the canoe. \u201cI told you already I want to paddle, not just sit in the middle.\u201d He started to wade forward too. But Petey got to the bow first and put one leg over the gunwale into the canoe. Siddy looked at me for support.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPetey, it\u2019s Siddy\u2019s birthday,\u201d I said mildly. \u201cI think we should let him paddle.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut I\u2019m the guest,\u201d Petey said, climbing the rest of the way into the canoe and sitting down on the forward seat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI don\u2019t care if you\u2019re the King of England, you\u2019re going to sit in the middle,\u201d I blurted, surprised at myself. Normally, I was good at negotiating with children.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Petey hunched his shoulders over and grabbed the seat with both hands beside his hips. \u201cMy dad says that guests\u2014.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYour father has let out enough hot air already this morning,\u201d I retorted. Petey looked as if he\u2019d just been slapped in the face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDaaad! You shouldn\u2019t have said that,\u201d Siddy said, scowling at me just as Peggy arrived carrying the box with the birthday cake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhich one of you boys wants to hold the birthday cake so it doesn\u2019t get wet?\u201d she asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Petey stared straight ahead. Siddy looked down as if trying to find his feet in the muddied water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMaybe you should, Siddy. It\u2019s your cake,\u201d Peggy offered.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Siddy looked up at me. I shrugged. \u201cSiddy, you can paddle on the way home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh all right,\u201d Siddy relented. \u201cBut don\u2019t forget!\u201d Petey flashed a victorious smile at me, and Siddy climbed into the middle and sat down. Peggy handed him the cake and got in too, right behind him. She leaned back against the center thwart and put her arms around him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few minutes later, we beached the canoe on the other side of the lake and carried the hot dogs and the birthday cake and the presents up a steep rise to level ground and a lean-to. It was set just far enough back so we could see out across the lake from in front of it, but could not see the canoe at the foot of the incline.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I built the fire, it lighted immediately. We roasted the hot dogs on thin green sticks, only burning a few of the hot dogs \u2013 which were delicious anyway. Then Siddy opened his presents: a Swiss army knife from me, a compass from Peggy and a New York Yankees baseball cap from Petey, which Siddy donned right then. As Peggy lighted the ten candles on the cake and Siddy blew them out in one easy breath to get his wish, my spirits grew bright again. None of us noticed that behind us, to the west on the other side of the lean-to, the sky was darkening.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

After the cake, the two boys told some knock knock jokes and Petey agreed that Siddy told the best one: \u201cKnock Knock, who\u2019s there? Orange juice. Orange juice who? Orange juice glad to see me, Baby?\u201d And then, with perfect timing, as if the passengers waving at us were applauding Siddy\u2019s joke, a sleek old fashioned Chris Craft with shiny mahogany sides and a snapping American flag went zooming by just far enough away for us to see it over the rise, leaving a marvelous wake behind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then Petey pointed at the ridge behind me. \u201cI think it\u2019s going to rain,\u201d he said. Sure enough, a line of dark clouds that had just passed over the ridge was coming at us fast.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh well,\u201d I said. \u201cThe party is almost over anyway and we\u2019ve had lots of fun.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd besides,\u201d said Peggy, \u201cIt\u2019s almost four o\u2019clock, and, Petey, we told your dad we\u2019d have you home by five.\u201d She put the remaining birthday cake in the box to take it home. \u201cIf we hurry, we\u2019ll beat the rain,\u201d she said, and stood up facing the lake. A second later, she said, \u201cMy, my, look what I see,\u201d and we all jumped up and looked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A hundred yards from shore, the canoe was sailing away down the lake.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh,\u201d I said. \u201cthe canoe\u2019s gone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHow observant!\u201d Peggy said. Then she started to giggle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Petey stared at me. \u201cYou didn\u2019t tie it up?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy should he?\u2019 Siddy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe was the last one off the beach,\u201d Petey said. \u201cHe shoulda tied it up.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, well there\u2019s no tide.\u201d Siddy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt was the wake from the Chris Craft,\u201d I said. \u201cI didn\u2019t think about that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou didn\u2019t?\u201d Petey frowned.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

No I didn\u2019t and either did you, you little shit, I thought.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, I wish my dad was here. He\u2019d catch up to it in a minute. He\u2019s a champion swimmer,\u201d Petey said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSo\u2019s mine,\u201d Siddy announced.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe is?\u201d Peggy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYeah, he is,\u201d Siddy insisted, looking directly at me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I watched the canoe. It really wasn\u2019t very far away yet. Maybe I could catch it. I took off my sweater and started walking down the slope to the beach. Peggy and the two boys followed. \u201cFrancis, it will blow up against the shore somewhere,\u201d Peggy said. \u201cWe can walk to it,\u201d but I paid no attention. A minute later, I was at the beach, arriving precisely when the rapidly approaching clouds obscured the sun. I peeled off my T shirt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHurry up, Dad,\u201d Siddy urged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI am,\u201d I said, as the cold breeze arrived. I unbuckled my belt and took off my jeans.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou goin\u2019 skinny?\u201d Petey asked. Some of the contempt had melted from his tone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNaw, he\u2019ll swim in his underpants,\u201d Siddy said. \u201cThere\u2019s probably girls around.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIf there are they\u2019ll all be wearing overcoats,\u201d Peggy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In my underpants, I waded out to my knees. The breeze was now a wind and the canoe was departing much faster. Behind me I heard Siddy call, \u201cI\u2019ll count to three, Dad, all right?\u201d Without turning, I waved an acknowledgement.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cONE,\u201d Siddy called and I bent my knees. \u201cTWO,\u201d and I stretched my arms out in front of me. \u201cTHREE!\u201d Siddy called and I just stood there. I was imagining how much more chagrinned Siddy would be to watch his father get a cramp in the middle of the lake and drown in front of everybody. I turned to face the little group, and said, \u201cI don\u2019t think it\u2019s a good idea,\u201d and waded back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peggy looked relieved. She put her arm around our son. \u201cSiddy, we\u2019ll just walk around the lake to where the canoe lands.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, we\u2019ll make it into an exciting hike,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBut Dad, you said I could paddle back!\u201d Siddy exclaimed, and burst into tears.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Just then it began to pour down rain.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

If I hadn\u2019t broken the promise to Siddy, and if I could have stopped thinking about how humiliated I was going to be when Hugh McLaughlin would ask how the birthday party had gone, the hike we took around the lake, walking in single file in the pouring rain, would have been a lark, a funny story Peggy and I would still be telling when we\u2019d grown old, but I knew how ten-year-olds feel when their parents break promises and I could imagine the amazement in Petie\u2019s voice as, right in front of Siddy, he told his father I didn\u2019t remember to tie up the canoe.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It took us at least an hour to get to the canoe where it had finally landed \u2013 several miles from our station wagon. We dragged it to the edge of the road and inverted it. I told Peggy and the boys they should get under it out of the rain while I hiked to the car. \u201cI\u2019ll be back in a jiffy,\u201d I lied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

But Peggy wasn\u2019t listening to me. She was looking toward a curve in the road, her hand to her ear. \u201cDo I hear motorcycles?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sure enough, in another minute, two motorcycles appeared around the curve, exactly abreast, their riders leaning sharply, water flying from the wheels. They slowed and stopped. One rider was a huge shirtless black man. The rain streamed down over his magnificent shoulders and his skin gleamed. \u201cHi,\u201d he said. \u201cA bit wet, isn\u2019t it?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The other rider was white. He was so tiny he had to lean way over so his foot could prop up his motorcycle and he had shoulder-length blonde hair and wore a surprised and sheepish look. I was sure I had seen him someplace before. Emblazoned in red on his soaked sweatshirt was EPISCOPAL URBAN-SUBURBAN BIKE CLUB, INC., and under that, a picture of a motorcycle.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The black man doffed his wool cap, revealing a perfectly shaped, apparently waterproof Afro. \u201cPermit me to introduce myself. I\u2019m Raymond Miller. We seem to be a bit lost. Can you tell us what lake this is?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s the Barkhamstead Lake Reservoir and I\u2019m Peggy Plummer,\u201d Peggy said, as a gust of wind arrived and the deluge increased. She introduced Siddy and Petey and me. Raymond Miller\u2019s Afro made an arc in the rain for each of us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHi,\u201d Siddy said. \u201cAren\u2019t you cold?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNot at all, young man. I\u2019m having too much fun. Especially now that I know where I am.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy Dad wouldn\u2019t be cold either,\u201d Petey said. \u201cAnd he never gets lost.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI bet your dad is a great guy. I\u2019d love to meet him someday and give him a ride,\u201d Raymond said. \u201cAnd this is my partner in the club. We just inaugurated it yesterday. Father Michael Woodward.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFather Woodward?\u201d I said. \u201cOur minister?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh dear!\u201d the little blonde man said. He reached up to his hair and doffed it as his partner had doffed his cap. I blinked. The little blond motorcyclist was holding a wet wig in his hand. And he was no longer blond. He was bald.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou!\u201d I said. I knew Father Woodward liked to ride his motorcycle. I\u2019d seen him several times riding through our village, but in his grey suit and round collar, not a blonde wig and not in a pouring rain with a huge, shirtless partner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe wants to keep this part of him secret,\u201d Raymond explained. \u201cHe thinks it is bad P.R. Too much like Hell\u2019s Angels, and the bishop wouldn\u2019t approve.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, now you know,\u201d Father Woodward said. \u201cAnd by the way I missed you in church this morning.\u201d He put his wig in his saddle bag.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMichael, you\u2019re so funny!\u201d Peggy said. She put her hand to her mouth. \u201cWe won\u2019t tell anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh why not?\u201d Raymond asked. \u201cWho knows what the bishop wants? But enough of that. You all appear somewhat wet and perhaps we can help.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, as a matter of fact, we were just trying to get back to our car,\u201d I said. It was reassuring to hear my own voice. I\u2019d begun to wonder if being so cold and wet was making me hallucinate.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat blue station wagon that\u2019s parked a mile or so up the road?\u201d Raymond asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell get on, then\u201d Raymond commanded. \u201cAnd I\u2019ll deliver you to it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I hesitated. I was terrified of motorcycles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDaad! What are you waiting for?\u201d Siddy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201c\u2019Put your arms around me, Baby; hold me tight,\u2019\u201d Raymond sang as I straddled the back of the saddle. Then he gunned the engine, the bike reared back and surged forward, going faster and faster as he shot through the gears. The rain beat down on my face, stinging my cheeks, the black tar of the road made thin lines in my eyes and the roaring of the engine vibrated up through my spine. \u201cWell, maybe not that tight,\u201d Raymond yelled above the roar of the engine, but I continued my death grip. Trees, hillsides, parked cars, signs whizzed by. We shot past the station wagon, which appeared suddenly, a shapeless blur, and Raymond started braking and leaning hard to his right. I knew I should lean too, but I didn\u2019t dare, and now we were in a field to the right of the road, bumping crazily, and then Raymond leaned left and we turned left in a circle over the field, and suddenly we were back on the road again, heading faster and faster for the station wagon. We were there in an instant and Raymond braked so fast that I was forced forward against his back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Now there was only the noise of the rain, as I looked, unsuccessfully, for the keys to the station wagon. First I looked in my shirt pocket where I knew they weren\u2019t so I could postpone the embarrassment of admitting that I had just remembered leaving them in the lean-to. Then I looked in my right pants pocket. Then I rummaged through the sticky wet ball of Kleenex in my left pants pocket, replacing each molten shred next to the drowned matches I\u2019d lit the fire with, so Raymond wouldn\u2019t think I was a litter bug. Then I said, \u201cOh! I hung them on a nail in the lean-to so they wouldn\u2019t fall out of my pocket.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLean-to?\u201d Raymond asked softly. \u201cWhat lean-to?\u201d and, with so much to get off my chest, I discovered an urge to tell the whole story. What better confessor could I ever find than this kind stranger? I told every detail and emphasized the part about the canoe drifting off because I forgot to tie it up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, we all err,\u201d Raymond said. \u201cI mean we all make mistakes. I left my bike on the Staten Island ferry once. Remind me to tell you the story sometime. But right now let\u2019s get you back to that lean-to and pick up your keys.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Getting up on the saddle again, confessed and forgiven, I felt my fear of riding leave me. It seemed to levitate up through the top of my head and melt in the rain. I put my arms around Raymond\u2019s massive trunk, eager to know him now that he was more than just a ride. \u201cWhat do you do \u2013 I mean when you\u2019re not riding?\u201d I asked, as he kicked the starter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMe?\u201d he yelled over the roar of the engine. \u201cI\u2019m in community work. Hang on again.\u201d He shot the gear in and let out the clutch and in an accelerating roar we were off again. We zoomed through the rain and this time when we came around the curve, I leaned way over and it was all so absurd and lovely that I started to laugh. I was still laughing when Raymond slowed the bike and we stuck our feet out in the mud next to the canoe \u2013out from under which Peggy, the two boys and Father Woodward were emerging. \u201cHe left the keys at the lean-to,\u201d Raymond said happily to Peggy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cLean-to? What lean-to?\u201d Father Woodward asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Raymond explained about the lean-to. Then he said, \u201cI\u2019ll take Francis out there to get his keys Then I\u2019ll rush him to his car and he\u2019ll drive it right back here in a flash and get his family and Petey out of the wet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh please hurry!\u201d Peggy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Raymond nodded. \u201cI know. Even I\u2019m getting cold. As a matter of fact, I think I\u2019ll put my shirt on.\u201d He leaned down, opened his saddlebag and withdrew his Episcopal Urban-Suburban Bike Club shirt and put it on.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s about time!\u201d Father Woodward said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAlright alright, get going!\u201d Peggy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo way!\u201d I blurted. I couldn\u2019t believe I was saying this, but I got off Raymond\u2019s bike. \u201cWe can\u2019t go home yet.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGo on, go on, get going, we\u2019re freezing!\u201d Father Woodward said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh Michael, put wig your back on,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cPut your wig back on.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cTo save the day.\u201d I looked at Raymond. \u201cRight?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Raymond\u2019s face lighted up. \u201cYou have an idea?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes. We\u2019ll all go to the lean-to and have another party.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAll six of us!\u201d Raymond exclaimed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFrancis, in case you haven\u2019t noticed, it\u2019s raining.\u201d Peggy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes, but look.\u201d I pointed to the sky. Everybody looked up. The clouds were even darker than they were and the rain was falling even harder. \u201cSee. It\u2019s going to clear,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI think you might be right,\u201d Raymond said. \u201cSiddy, hop on. Petey, you go with Father Woodward.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Both boys just stood there. I moved to Siddy, picked him up, put him on the saddle behind Raymond. I grabbed Siddy\u2019s arms and wrapped them around Raymond\u2019s waist. \u201cHold on tight,\u201d Raymond commanded and sped away up the trail to the lean-to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFrancis Plummer, you\u2019re out of your mind,\u201d Father Woodward said. But he got on his bike. \u201cGet on, Petey so we can get this over with.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Petey looked at Peggy. \u201cReally? The bike could slip in the mud.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Peggy smiled. \u201cYour father wouldn\u2019t be scared.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Petey walked tentatively to the bike and got up on it, his face ashen, and wrapped his arms around Father Woodward\u2019s waist as tight as he could. Father Woodward leaned down then, opened his saddle bag, removed his wig and put it on his head. \u201cAnything to please a parishioner,\u201d he said. And sped off.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHurry back and get us,\u201d I called.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When the bike had disappeared around a corner, Peggy said, \u201cWhy did you say it was going to clear?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBecause it has to,\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A few minutes later, all six of us were huddled in the lean-to, and Raymond began to tell the story of his lost motorcycle. Both boys shivered and hugged themselves and stared angrily at me, but I was sure they were listening. Raymond seemed even bigger in his Urban-Suburban Bike Club shirt and his voice filled the dark little space.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Five minutes later, Peggy pointed upwards at the roof of the lean-to and said, \u201cListen!\u201d The sound of the rain on the roof had diminished. A minute later, it stopped altogether. We all tumbled out of the lean-to.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the west, the sky was entirely blue. The bright band of sky was getting wider and wider, its edge, rapidly approaching. \u201cThe sun always shines on the righteous,\u201d Raymond said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I found a flat rock to use for a plate and Peggy lifted the sodden birthday cake out of its box. It was so wet it fell apart in her hands so she dropped it in pieces onto the rock and we ate it with our hands while the sun came out the rest of the way. \u201cI think this is the way they eat in Africa,\u201d Father Woodward said. \u201cI\u2019m right, aren\u2019t I Ray? Communing, like this?\u201d He put his forefinger, caked with sticky crumbs and icing, in his mouth and sucked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI have no idea, I\u2019ve never been to Africa,\u201d Raymond said. \u201cBut it\u2019s a fine way to eat in Connecticut.\u201d He had a white moustache of icing which moved up and down as he spoke.
\u201cI love eating like this!\u201d Siddy said. \u201cMuch better than the other boring old way with forks and knives and all that stuff.\u201d He picked up the last glob of cake, stuffed it in his mouth, and wiped his hands on his shirt.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMe too. I like it best this way too,\u201d Petey said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAs I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by the sun,\u201d Raymond said, a few minutes later, after we had sung happy birthday to Siddy again, \u201cI lost my motorcycle for weeks and weeks,\u201d and went on to tell how he finally remembered he\u2019d left it on the Staten Island ferry.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOne hundred and eighty-seven trips before you found it?\u201d Petey said. \u201cReally?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what he said.\u201d Siddy said. \u201cA hundred and eighty-seven.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell, maybe a hundred and eighty-six,\u201d Raymond said. \u201cAnd guess what?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d asked Siddy, leaning forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAfter having it gone so long, finding it was better than having it at first.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOh Ray, that\u2019s so typical of you \u2013 and why we love you so,\u201d Father Woodard said. He lay back and pulled his Episcopal Urban- Suburban Bike Club, Inc. sweatshirt up under his chin to soak up the sun on his stomach and then put his hands under his head. \u201cIf I were you, Siddy,\u201d he said, addressing his words to the sky, \u201cI\u2019d hang out with your father a lot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd besides,\u201d Raymond said, \u201cit was a hundred and eighty-seven. I distinctly remember.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat a glorious afternoon!\u201d Peggy said. \u201cIt can\u2019t get any better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cO yes it can,\u201d I said. \u201cSiddy, Father Woodward and Mr. Miller will ride you and me to the canoe. We\u2019ll paddle it back to the car.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cDad! You\u2019re keeping your promise!\u201d Siddy said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy dad keeps his promises all the time,\u201d Petey said as Father Woodward, Raymond, Siddy and I stood up and headed for the motorcycles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

When we arrived at the canoe a few minutes later, a huge man was standing on the beach, his back toward us. He was shading his eyes with a hand and staring out over the water. I knew right away it was Hugh McLaughlin. He turned when he heard the motors. Raymond and Father Woodward braked their bikes and shut the engines. Hugh rushed toward us, a frantic look on his face. \u201cHave any of you seen\u2013?\u201d Hugh began, and then saw me and stopped running and stood perfectly still. \u201cO my God! I knew it I knew it. Oh Jeez I knew it.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHugh, everything\u2019s fine,\u201d I said. \u201cI can explain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s all right? He\u2019s all right? My Petey\u2019s OK?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes,\u201d I answered. \u201cAnd so, by the way, are Siddy and Peggy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s really Ok? When I saw the canoe\u2013.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I slid off the saddle. \u201cHugh, I told you he was all right. All right? Now let me explain.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell then where the hell is he?\u201d Hugh roared. \u201cIt\u2019s seven o\u2019clock. You said you\u2019d be home at five.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt is?\u201d I asked. I looked at my watch. \u201cMy Goodness, you\u2019re right. How time flies when you\u2019re having fun! Besides, I promised no such thing. I never promise things like that. I\u2019m no good at planning, Hugh, you know that.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFrancis, where the hell is my son?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHe\u2019s in the lean-to with Peggy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat lean-to? What are we talking about? Will somebody just please tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s a lovely lean-to. You\u2019d approve, I know you would.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cFrancis, be careful,\u201d Father Woodward said. \u201cHugh has a right to be distraught.\u201d He climbed down off his motorcycle and took several steps toward Hugh. \u201cI can explain,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cAnd who the hell are you?\u201d Hugh asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Father Woodward doffed his wig.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHuh?\u201d Hugh said. He stared at Father Woodward as if every idea he ever had about ministers, or churches \u2013 or even God \u2013 was changed forever. \u201cRaymond got off his motorcycle and put his arm around Hugh. He was even taller than Hugh, and his huge hand lay gently on Hugh\u2019s shoulder. \u201cFather Woodward will take you out to the lean-to on his motorcycle,\u201d Raymond explained, \u201cand Petey can tell you what a grand time he\u2019s been having.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cRight,\u201d Father Woodward said. He stepped nearer to Hugh and took him by the hand. Hugh hesitated. Raymond put his hand on Hugh\u2019s back and pushed gently. Father Woodward and Hugh moved to the motorcycle, and Hugh got on behind Father Woodward and put his arms around his waist. \u201cHere we go.\u201d said Father Woodward and they roared away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Raymond and Siddy and I carried the canoe to the water and put it in. Siddy put his arms around Raymond\u2019s waist to hug him. It was as high as he could reach. So Raymond lifted him up and Siddy hugged him around the shoulders. Then Siddy got in the in the bow of the canoe and waited, the paddle poised, while Raymond and I shook hands. \u201cThanks,\u201d I said. \u201cYou and Father Woodward saved the day.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cNo, you did,\u201d Raymond said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I pushed the canoe further out and got in the stern. But I hadn\u2019t pushed it far enough and now it stuck on a rock. Before I could get out of the canoe to push it further out, Raymond waded with his shoes still on to the canoe, put his big hands beneath the stern and lifted it off the rock.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWait a sec,\u201d I said, just then remembering.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat?\u201d said Raymond, still holding the stern, with me in it, above the water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou said you were in community work,\u201d I said. \u201cWhat kind of work?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMe?\u201d said Raymond. \u201cI\u2019m a basketball coach.\u201d Then he dropped the canoe back into the water and Siddy and I paddled away.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Motorcycle Sunday 1965 On the June morning of my son\u2019s tenth birthday, I woke up in a surge of joy. For three days it had been raining, but now the Sunday sun poured through the window onto my face. We wouldn\u2019t have to postpone the birthday party after all. \u201cAt last you\u2019re awake!\u201d my wife […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-295","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"featured_image_src":null,"featured_image_src_square":null,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.stephen-davenport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/295","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.stephen-davenport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.stephen-davenport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.stephen-davenport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.stephen-davenport.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=295"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.stephen-davenport.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/295\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.stephen-davenport.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=295"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}