Hard Drive to Short Read Free Page A

door.
    “Hi, Sandy” Nibbs Spry’s hair was still wet from a shower. “We’re going to play miniature golf. Want to come along?”
    Sandy looked at them, unable to make up his mind. He enjoyed playing miniature golf with the guys, but what if Rod was out
     there? What if this might be his chance to ride on Rod’s motorbike? He could play miniature golf anytime.
    “I — I’m busy, guys,” he said lamely. “Maybe next time. Okay?”
    The two boys looked at him. “Okay,” said Nibbs, his smile fading. He and Jules walked away, and Sandy closed the door.
    Later on he wished he had gone with Nibbs and Jules because he didn’t see Rod and his motorbike that evening at all.

4
    O N Saturday afternoon Rod Temple was polishing his motorbike again, and Sandy walked across the street to watch him.
    “Hi, Rod,” he called.
    “Hi, Sandy. Polishing up this baby again. You’d be surprised how quick she gets dirty.”
    Sandy didn’t think that the motorbike ever got as dirty as Rod implied. It always looked as clean and new as the day Rod had
     purchased it. Like now. You couldsee your reflection in it even if the curves distorted it.
    “Got time?” asked Rod. “I’ll take you for a ride.”
    Sandy was elated. His wish was answered. “Okay.” He didn’t want to sound as excited as he felt.
    Rod stood away from the bike and looked at it. “Well, the shine’s still not too good, but I won’t spend more time with it
     now. Let’s take our ride.”
    He stuck the chamois cloth into a leather pouch behind the front seat, then turned the bike around so that it faced the street.
     He got on, and Sandy climbed on behind him.
    Rod started the motor and carefully drove out of the driveway, then sped down the street. The motor put-putted loudly as the
     little bike wove slightly fromleft to right for a few seconds, then evened its course and shot straight ahead. Sandy hung on tight to the handgrips of his
     seat, the wind lashing his hair and caressing his cheeks. What fun this was! It was the first time he had ever ridden on a
     motorbike.
    They rode down the street for several blocks, then turned left. Sandy wasn’t thinking about where they were going. He was
     thinking only of the ride and of being with Rod.
    “Hi, Sandy!” a voice suddenly shouted. Two others joined in.
    Oink Decker, Marty Loomis and Ken Bockman were waving to him from the sidewalk. He took a hand off the grip and waved back.
     He wondered if they envied him. Well, let them. He deserved to ride with Rodney.
    The bike pulled up to a curb in front of an ice cream store. “How about an ice cream cone?” asked Rod, digging into his pocket.
    “Okay.”
    After a few moments of searching Rod said, “Uh-oh. Left all my dough at home.”
    “I’ve got plenty,” Sandy piped up enthusiastically. “I’ll buy.”
    “You sure it’s okay?”
    “Sure, I’m sure.” Sandy lifted out his wallet. “What kind do you like?”
    “Maple walnut.”
    “I’ll get two. Doubleheaders?”
    Rod grinned. “Doubleheaders!”
    Sandy bought them while Rod stood outside with his bike. They ate the ice cream, then started up the bike and rode on. They
     arrived at Fillmore Park, a huge, beautiful place with two ball diamonds,tennis courts and picnic grounds in the wooded hills beyond. A high waterfall sparkled gorgeously to the left. Below, in a
     dammed-up pond, people were diving and swimming.
    A game was in progress on one of the ball diamonds.
    “Hey,” said Rod, suddenly smiling, “the girls are playing softball! I know some of them. Let’s watch them for a while.”
    Watch girls play softball? Was Rod kidding? For a minute Sandy thought that Rod really was. But Rod was already walking toward
     them, a broad, happy smile on his face.
    “Can I finish polishing the bike while you’re watching the game?” asked Sandy. That would be more fun than watching girls
     play softball.
    “Oh, sure. Go ahead.”
    “Thanks, Rod!”
    Sandy got the chamois cloth out of