blogwithvalor

Dahlia walked the freshly paved street of Leicester, England to meet the young man that was going to teach her to ride a bike. She had recently begun working as a nurse and one of her new patients had recommended she learn to ride, along with offering her grandson as the instructor. The ploy was plain for her to see, but she had wanted to learn anyways. She’d read a recent an article that had a quote from Susan B. Anthony, the famous American Suffragette, claiming the bicycle “… has done more to emancipate women that any one thing in the world.” She’d grown up in the Philippines where bikes were non-existent, let alone the paved roads that helped provide smoother rides.

She’d moved to England a few years prior to continue her education as a nurse in one of the famed Florence Nightengale schools. A small school was opened in the Philippines, where she began her training. However, she was studious and completed all the credentials and laurels offered there. Her parents had wanted her to earn the esteem of a world class education. So, they had sold much of their farm to afford her the ticket and tuition to attend school in England. It was a small sacrifice in their eyes, for their only child.

The young man was standing there with bike in hand. He was handsome, she thought to herself. His smile, kind and warm. He was a good deal taller than she was, though most Englanders were, she discovered. His hair was light brown with curls that were catching the breeze as she walked up to him.

“G’ mornin’, my name is Trenton, but everyone calls me Trey. Are you the nurse that’s been helping my grandma?” He spoke a bit like a boy raised running around the streets.

“Yes, I am. My name is Dahlia. she’s been recovering quite well. She spoke highly of you. Said you were an artist.”

Trey looked a little nervous at hearing his grandmother talking about him. “Aw, bless her heart. She’s always been sweet on me. Not sure what stories she’s told you, but I’m no high-born art bloke with his nose reachin’ for the sky. She sometimes like to make me sound uptight to strangers. Thinks it’s impressive.”

Dahlia let out a small laugh. “She only told me you’re a talented painter and sculptor. And, of course, that you’d be the best bicycle instructor I could find in Leicester.”

“I’m no Michaelangelo but I do love puttin’ paint to canvas and really making anything with me hands. About the only good thing ta come out of my time in Catholic school really. Regardin’ bicycles though, I’ve spent a lot of time on these wheels. Before you know it we’ll have you peddling across town, I’m sure of it.” He swung his leg over the top and straddled the bicycle. “I hope you’ve got some pantaloons under that dress. There are some women’s specific bicycles out there, but this isn’t one of ’em. Let me just show you some of the basics. They’re mostly the same no matter which kind a bicycle you got.”

He went over the basics of how to work the pedals, steering, and braking. He threw in bits here and there about how to position yourself if you wanted to appear fancy, relaxed, or even aggressive. It was amusing to watch him mimic personalities. She laughed and he asked her to step back so she could watch him ride as an example.

He gave the ground a small kick before rolling forward and catching the pedals with each foot. She thought it odd how everyone didn’t immediately topple over with both wheels in a straight line. She’d seen enough people come into the hospital with head injuries that she knew it was a common enough occurrence. Trey didn’t seem to have any concern for it though. He had gone down the street a ways and come back. Then he started circling her, giving her examples of how to look while riding. Dahlia laughed.

Trey stopped the bicycle next to her. “Alrighty then, your turn.”

Dahlia’s eye grew wide. “Wait, right now? Aren’t there more things for me to learn about it? What if it breaks?”

“Now, now. Learning ta ride a bike is a lot about gettin’ the feel for it. You’re gonna have to hop on eventually. And don’t worry about it breakin’. If it can hold my keister than you’ll be just fine… Pardon my language there miss.” He honestly looked a little embarrassed about what he’d said.

He had a disarming air about him. She was used to keeping her guard up around new people due to some of the prejudices she’d come to face as a foreigner, but he didn’t seem to have any of those qualities. He was warm and welcoming. So, she bent over and quickly tied the front and back of her dress in a knot between her legs. Trey was surprised at her speed and comfort with something most ladies might find unseemly. He gave her a smile and nod.

With her skirt tied up and her pantaloons just barely revealed, she grabbed the handlebars ready to start. She swung one leg over the top and tried hopping onto the seat. She immediately started falling to the side. Trey moved to catch her right away. His hand clasping hers on the steering wheel and the other wrapped around her shoulders. She looked up at him, held in his arms.

“Thank you. I can’t believe I fell over so quickly.” She said, looking away trying to hide the embarrassment on her face.

He helped her back upright placing his hands firmly on the bicycle frame. “It happens to everyone at least once. It’s part of the learnin’ process. Gotta be willing to break a few stones if you’re gonna sculpt a masterpiece my favorite teacher used to say.

“Alright, just remember that as long as you’re moving then the bike pretty much wants to be upright. When you come to a stop, then you gotta put your feet out to catch yourself. Try goin’ a few feet and stopping. As a test.”

Dahlia, clenched the handlebars as hard as she could and kicked forward. Trey let go of the frame but was jogging next to her. She caught the peddles and used them for a moment before braking. Then, as she started to tip, she kicked out the foot on that side to catch herself. Trey’s arms were out ready to catch her, just in case.

“You did great! You’re a natural.” He said, jumping in the air.

For the next couple of hours Dahlia worked on riding up and down the street. Trey coaching, while running up and down the street alongside her. More than once he’d caught her before she made another tumble, but she felt less embarrassed as she’d seen him take a couple of falls while keeping pace next to her. They’d laughed off each incident and were both seated on a nearby park bench by early afternoon.

“Thank you for helping me learn to ride. I’m not sure I could repay your kindness.” Dahlia said.

Trey scoffed, “I’m the one that should be thanking you. My grandma is healin’ up good as new, thanks to you. Consider us even.”

“Does that mean you won’t be offering any more lessons?” Dahlia said with a smile.

“Of course not. Next time, how about we go out to lunch afterwards? Worked myself up an appetite somethin’ fierce. I’ll pay of course.” Trey was the one looking a little embarassed this time.

“I’d like that,” she said.

“That’s swell. How about same time next week?” He gave her a nervous look.

“It’s a date.” Dahlia said as she stood up.

Trey looked shocked for a moment. Then a giant smile stretched across his face. “It’s a date.”

Dahlia turned around and strode off. She had a small skip to her step as she went. She had a date set up with someone she liked quite a bit. Not only that but she also had a new sense of independence from learning to ride and excitement at what that meant for her future.