I climb up onto loading dock and am greeted by the vroom, vroom of a motorcycle.
I lose my balance and tip over into a pile of burlap bags.
“Hey there Young Feller, don’t get wrapped up in that burlap,” the SideCar Granny calls over to me.
“SideCar Granny!” I exclaim as I recover and stand up out of the pile of bags, “You surprised me, didn’t figure to catch you here at the RailHead.”
“Geraniums,” SideCar Granny tells me, “Geraniums.”
I scratch my head, “Um SideCar Granny, I never figured you to be the tend-the-flowerbed type, you know.”
SideCar Granny rolls her eyes. she pulls back a tablecloth that she had over something in the sidecar, “Geraniums,” Granny informs me, “Got to keep fuel in the gas tank you know.”
“Geraniums?” I ask.
“Got the shoots off some plants down at the Country House Diner,” SideCar Granny confides, Jus tstarted them in a jar of water, and soon,”
“I’m surprised,” I remark.
“Wha-?” SideCar Granny gasps, “Why anybody can start geraniums that way.”
“No,” I asnswer, That the CountryHouse Diner would let you in.”
SideCar Granny laughs, “Well I don’t exactly see you in there much either, I just go for morning coffee, when I’m on my Morning Runs.”
“Wake up?” I ask.
“Brunch,” SideCar Granny smiles, “You gotta get up pretty early in the morning to get a jump on SideCar Granny.”
“CountrytHouse Diner opens ’round Five Don’t they?” I ask.
“Earlier if I bang on the door,” SideCar Granny cackles.
“That’s early.” I remark.
“You’ve got to lock up pretty early in the morning to stop SideCar Grannyh,” she announces.
“Bet they’re all woke up by the time that you’re thru with them,” I conjecture.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” SideCar Grany smiles toothfully.
I change the subject, “And so what brings us here today?” I ask.
“Geraniums,” SideCar Granny frowns at the repeat, “Gas Credit You know,” she winks.
“Oh yeah,” I slap the side of my head.
SideCar Granny pulls a small ledger book out of her leather vest, “Here, get the geraniums.”
I start to lift the heavy box, “But wait,” I stop, “They’re yours,”
“Got you that time Sonny,” SideCar Granny cuts me off.
SideCar Granny and I tromp our way over to the Main Office, Garden, and Miscellaneous Office.
SideCar Granny!” there is a notye of joy in the office girl’s voice, then, “Oh, Him.”
“He brought the Flowers at least,” SideCar Granny sticks up for me.
“At least, the least,” the office girl sighs.
“Umpf,” I manage to gasp from beneath the heavy load.
“Over there Sonny,” SideCar Granny interprets. I plop the soda-crate of potted geraniums onto the hardwood counter.
“Unload them out of the Box,” SideCar directs me, “Those antique soda-crates are worth something, you know.”
I p[atriotically grumble as I take the geraniums out of the crate and place them on the counter top.
“Not there!” the Office Girl interjects, “Over there on the paper.”
“Always new the Clover County Gazette and Bird Cage Liner would be good for something, someday,” SideCar Granny observes.
Whew,” I wipe my brow as I limp out onto the loading dock.
Then, “Sonny Get in!” SideCar Granny urges me.
I’m confused, “Like You’re an action-hero?” I ask
‘Tried that,” SideCar Granny shrugs, “Hollywood bored me.”
We vooommm down the road and then pull into Honest John Poole’s gas station on the outskirts of Hickstown. John amble out.Fill’er up, wit Hpremium,” Sidecar opens the gas cap lid.
Of course, John is pleased and pumps the cycle up with his best fuel.
Honest John pulls out his calculater and figures the tab up at 5.51 dollanrs.
Sidecar Granny coughs and holds her throat, “Sure wish this Township would pave some roads,” Sidecar gasps, “This dust sure is getting to my throat,”
I hop out of the sidecar, “No problem,” I say as I get to the soda machine, “What flavor?”
SideCar Granny clears her throat, “What they have?” she asks.
Honest John shrugs, “All that’s in there, is that murky green pop stuff, only thing that keeps chilled.”
“Whoops!” Sidecar Granny shouts, “Mythroat has suddenly cleared! she exclaims, “See you later, sucker, er Scout!” with that SideCar Granny fires up the cycle and rolls out of the station and down the road.
“Why did you have to tell her about the green pop?” I ask John, “There goes my ride.
The gas station owner shrugs, “I was just being Honest,” he suggests.