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 There’s something about the freedom of a
motorcycle ride … the wind blowing through your hair, passing mere
cars at light speed, mosquitoes splattered against your grin. I
guess that was why.
But why would ol’ Dingle let Dewey Decker take his motorcycle out
for a spin?
“Hey, I was right there,” Dingle said later. “I told him not to go
past the neighbor’s mailbox, and I’d shown him how to run the thing.
It’s not like he wasn’t supervised.”
But Dewey?
The problem is, Dewey has … occurrences. A Dewey Occurrence (and the
capital letters are on purpose here) normally consists of something
so out of the ordinary happening to him that it would be virtually
impossible to happen to someone else. Like the time he got his
father’s pickup truck stuck in the mud. During a drought. In the
only mud puddle in the county.
 If Dewey drove a car in the Indianapolis 500, it
would be hit … by a meteor. [to top of second
column] |
If Dewey took the podium to
conduct the high school band on the football field at half time, the
podium would disappear into quicksand.
If Dewey had been a soldier in World War II, we’d all be speaking
German.
So allowing Dewey to ride a motorcycle … even as far as the
neighbor’s mailbox … comes perilously close to being a crime against
humanity.
You don’t really think of accidents happening at less than five
miles an hour. Not usually. But I understand Dingle’s motorcycle can
be fixed, Dewey only has to wear the cast for six weeks, and the
neighbor was tired of that mailbox, anyway.
The nurse down at the emergency room said she calls them “donorcycles.”
[Text from file received from
Slim Randles]
Brought to
you by The Fly Fisherman’s Bucket List by Slim Randles, from Rio
Grande Books, and now available at Amazon.com.
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