Strangers in the night

Actually, this is a daytime story, but it is one of those "stranger than fiction" ones. I have to tell you this story to have the next one make sense. Hang in there, I tie it all in later.

I am inclined to follow strange ideas, urges or thoughts and indulge them. I have done it since I was a teen that I remember. Everything from "turn left here" to "stay home today".

Once upon a time, about twenty seven years ago, I was leaving the house to hitchhike to a friend's home. I always make a last check before I leave, doors locked, cats out, got everything you need - that kind of thing. I stopped dead at the sewing machine, saw the full sized, dress makers, high quality sissors sitting there and got the urge to put them in my purse.

Now the purse was a standing joke with my friends. I called it the elephant and they said "If you need something, ask Val, she will have it in her purse. I carried a wide variety of meds, first aid, small tools, overnight supplies and assorted stuff at all times as I traveled a lot back then. But full sized sissors?

This was just a little over the top but I stared at them a second and then I really did say to myself, "OK, why not?" and stuffed them in the back section with the pointed end under a bandana to keep it from cutting the purse. I headed off down the road.

It was a pretty good trip until I was about 3 miles out and the last ride was going north so I faced a big hill on a hot summer day. The cars quit coming and I was walking along in a very rural area. I was kind of hoping for a farmer to show up but not stressing about it. I could walk five miles then and would, if I had to. But I wasn't the only one on the road.

Up ahead of me, on the same side, coming down the hill I was walking up, was a kid pushing a bicycle. He appeared to be hobbling or hopping a little. While he didn't appear to be bleeding, I was mentally reviewing the first aide I had in my purse. The way he was moving looked a little strange and I walked a little faster. The kid finally saw me coming and stopped, waiting for me to get to him.

In the road dust on his face were tear tracks but he had stopped crying and the heat had dried the moisture up already. He was a sweet looking boy, 12, freckles, blonde-red hair and dressed in a nice shirt and new appearing jeans. As I got closer I call out, "Got a problem?" and he answered, "Ya." Then I realize he was holding one leg was up off the ground, I figured he had taken a fall and hurt himself. Nope.

I finally got caught up with him. I told him my name and he told me his. I said, "What's the matter?" He nodded his head toward the leg. I looked and realized his blue jeans were woven into the chains on the gear of his brand new 10 speed bike's back wheel. He had to HOP, push, hop, push and still had a ways to go toward home. When I realized what needed to be done I looked at him and said, "This must be your lucky day."

He told me it should have been, it was his birthday. The clothes and the bike were brand, spanking new but he had fallen when his jeans caught in his chain. He had never ridden a ten speed before. There was an elbow scrape but the jeans were the problem.

I looked him in the eye and told him that he must be very special and repeated that it must be his lucky day and then pulled out my sissors. Did his eyes get big! "Do you know what it means, that I have these, this one time, in my purse?" He shook his head, no. "It means someone knew you would need help even before you left to ride your bike and that someone knew I would be by here today, right now, to help you. Isn't that spooky?" We both thought about that a minute.
We just looked at each other and a little shiver ran down my back.

I got down and looked at mess. I cut up one side and down the other of the seam of his jeans, hoping his mom could mend them more easily. Once we got his leg free we both worked, me with my pocket knife and he with my screw driver, (yes, I had a full sized screw driver in my purse. Doesn't every woman?) to get the material out of the chain WITHOUT knocking the chain off the gears. We got it! He walked around a little and I held the bike for him while he stretched his leg.

I gave him the piece of slightly rough looking denim and told him to tell his mom I did the neatest cut I could. With the story he had to tell her she should just be glad he was home safe. He said, "She'll kill me anyway, " with a glumb face. I laughed and told him he wasn't helped out just to die the same day and that she would holler because she was worried but he would be ok, it was his birthday. He took the bike from me.

When I went to put the tools back I saw two blue, large rubber bands in the center of the elephant. I put a rubber band around each of his pant legs to get him home safely. He thanked me and rode for home. I watched him until he turned his corner, then I looked heavenward thinking I made a funny kind of angel, sighed, and put my sissors back in the Elephant. I got a ride in, like, 1 minute, all the way to town.

And, Yes, I had two large bands off the last broccoli I had bought. I had put them in my purse as it was on the counter next to me that night. Why? Third base! (I don't know). I told you it was a strange purse. I always wondered what happened to the boy. If I had my journals I could have told you his name, but they burned up.

Life has continued to do these things to me. They always start out with me wondering why I am doing something that I normally wouldn't. You never get used to it but you learn to go with the flow and not fight it. It makes for some strange stories.