Part 4 (1/2)
I frowned. ”Hold on. Who says you get the front seat?”
”My guardian angel. That's who. You haven't ridden a bicycle since you were in grade school. No way am I going to trust the driver's seat to someone who has the nickname you do-and the history to justify it.”
”I see. So you get the view of the wide-open road and I get what? The view of your wide, open posterior all the way across the state? No way.”
”Oh, for heaven's sake. As soon as I'm convinced I won't end up as someone's hood ornament, we'll talk about taking turns. Until then, get used to the back seat, backside view. Now would you get on the d.a.m.ned bike?”
I was about to protest more but realized he was probably right. I wasn't ready to take the helm yet. I'd need some time in the saddle. But once I was up to speed? Well, this little cowgirl wasn't about to take a back seat to anyone.
I grabbed the handlebars behind Van Vleet's seat and started to swing a leg over the bicycle's bar when the bike wobbled precariously to one side.
”Whoa! Hold your horses, Calamity! A little finesse, if you please!” Van Vleet scolded. ”This is a bike, not a steed. You don't gallop up and throw yourself on a tandem like some half-a.s.sed ramrod or we'll tip over!” He repositioned the bike and planted a foot on either side of the bicycle to balance it. ”Position yourself thus,” he instructed.
”Thus?” I made a face. ”Thus?”
”Just do it!” Van Vleet barked.
”Okay! Okay! I'll position myself thus.” I a.s.sumed the position. ”There. Happy?” I said to the rigid back in front of me.
Van Vleet turned in his seat.
”Do I look happy?”
”Did you spend any time at all researching the technique of riding tandem?” he asked. ”You know. In between s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g up obits and dispensing candy sprinkles on soft serve?”
”I didn't think it was compulsory to Google riding a bicycle,” I responded.
Van Vleet shook his head. ”I thought as much. Okay. Lesson one. Definition of terms.”
Terms?
”Term One: Captain. The captain is the front seat rider and the bike boss, the rider in control, if you will. The captain controls breaking, steering, and s.h.i.+fting gears.” He jabbed a thumb into his chest. ”That's me. I am the captain.”
I blinked. Was this guy for real? I struck a salute pose.
”Aye, aye, Captain! Permission to speak, sir!”
Van Vleet did one of those eye roll numbers. ”Do I have a choice?”
”Sir! No, sir!”
”Oh, for G.o.d's sake. What is it?”
”Why do you get to be the bike boss again?”
”Uh, firstly because I actually know what I'm doing and secondly because I don't want to die. Now, may I please proceed?”
I sighed. ”If you must.”
”Term Number Two: Stroker.”
”Stroker?” I frowned, already prepared to be insulted.
Van Vleet nodded. ”Stroker. Also known as the motor. You, Miss Motormouth, are the stroker.”
”I'm the motor. Me?”
”Technically, you're the stroker.”
”And technically you are...an a.s.s,” I said.
”Would you get serious?”
I stared at him. ”I've just been a.s.signed stroker duties and you want me to get serious. Dude. That's whacked.”
”Turner-”
”Do we have to use the term stroker? That just sounds...wrong.”
”Oh, for G.o.d's sake, call yourself whatever the h.e.l.l you want,” Van Vleet snapped.
”Xena, Biker Princess,” I proclaimed.
”Funny. The point is you provide the propulsion.”
I looked at him.
”You expect me to provide the pedal power for both of us?”
His glance s.h.i.+fted to the area of my body that falls between the pelvis and the knees. ”You don't really want me to answer that question, do you?”
”Listen. These thighs were sculpted from years of horse hugging, roping, riding, and rodeo-ing, buddy. That doesn't mean they are pedal-power approved,” I said. What can I say? I have cowgirl thighs.
”No matter. Those thunder thighs will have to do, and you'll have to get used to second seat spinning,” Van Vleet told me. ”Now, for the correct mounting procedure.”
”Mounting procedure? First, 'stroking' and now 'mounting.' You aren't getting fresh, are you, Van Vleet?” I snorted.
”In your dreams, TT.”
”TT? Oh. As in Tressa Turner.”
”No. As in thunder thighs.”
I let the dig go. Never fear. I'd have a week to come up with appropriate names for my pedaling partner. As well as for my employer...