The Bike Incident

About six weeks ago, R called me and asked, "Have you seen my bike?"

It's usually locked up outside out apartment building and had seen little attention since we bought a second motor scooter. It was borrowed from her school, who we'd paid a 1000 NT deposit. It was a piece of crap, but it was our piece of crap.

"No, I haven't" I replied. "Are you sure you didn't leave it at school?"

"No, someone's stolen my bike!"

We'd resigned ourselves to this and moved on with our lives... until last Saturday night.

I'd had a long and arduous day at work finishing at six. We were due at an American Turkey Holiday dinner at seven. I couldn't be arsed walking up the stairs just to march back down in ten minutes, so I told R to meet me out the front and we would go to have a drink first.

So, I was waiting out the front of the building, rubbing my eyes and wondering why she was taking so long when I heard the unmistakable sound of a scooter moving down a road, sideways.

Looking up, sure enough, I saw a bike coming to a lateral stop just at the corner not twenty meters away. I went over to assist. A couple of locals were already on the scene and were pulling the shocked young girl off the otherwise deserted road.

She didn't appear to be injured but was close to passing out from the shock. I urged them to leave her there but I decided to leave them to it. They didn't need my help so I started to head back to my scooter where R was pulling on her jacket and looking over at the commotion.
Several of our neighbours had come out to watch.

"That looks like my bike." she said.

A young boy was getting off a bike and walking toward the injured girl as I put on my glasses to see.

"Yes. Yes it does."

I strode over to get a better look. Sure enough it had the new seat I'd bought for it and even the stickers with the school's name in English and Chinese.

With the family looking on I picked up the bike, throw it over my shoulder and, without a word, walked past the bystanders.

I passed R who was yelling: "Wu'dah! Wu'dah!" (Mine! Mine!) with incredulity at our neighbours.

I put the bike in the basement, got back on our scooter and R got on the back. The old boy was staring over at us. I stared back at him as if to say "You gotta problem?".

At R's request, I let him be and rode off - happy to get the bike back.

We still haven't heard from them.