The Case of the Missing Bike

Abby always had to have more. It wasn’t enough for her to have a basketball hoop, a ping pong table, countless running shoes, and weight equipment, she needed a bike.  But as it always happens with those who always want more, she got more than she bargained for. 

Submitted for the approval of the Midnight Society, I call this story, the case of the missing bike.

It was a sunny summer day when she went to meet him, the man selling the bike. She saw his ad on Craigslist for $30 bike in decent condition. She had to have it.  Although wary of this transaction, she found herself in a parking lot exchanging cash for an old rusty red bike.  Excited, she drove home and placed her new bike proudly on her front porch, not knowing that that would be the last time she would ever see her precious bike.

The next morning she awoke to the dog barking insatiably at something invisible outside. Annoyed she yelled, turned over, and went back to sleep. When she awoke she was shocked to find her bike, gone.  (The rest of us were shocked by Abby, living in hoodburbia, actually being shocked that someone stole her unlocked bike off of her vacant front porch.  There was shock all around!)  Defeated, she moped around the front porch for the duration of the day, until, she saw it! 

Looking up from her wallowing, she saw in the distance, an old Asian man riding down the street, on a rusty red bike. “Hey DUDE that’s my bike” she screamed arms flailing. Determined to not lose her precious bike again, she hopped in a car to chase down this would-be thief. She followed him down a small dirt alley where he couldn’t escape. She jumped out her car and ran up to the frazzled old man.

“Give me my bike!” she screamed as he stared blankly in response.

“Do you not speak English?” she blurted as he still stared confused. He motioned at the bike, as if offering to give it to her. As she looked down at her old rusty red bike, it looked slightly different. The red wasn’t as red and the seat appeared to be narrower than she remembered. “Hmm, maybe this isn’t my bike” she thought as the old man still bewildered and confused.  “Whelp, welcome to America,” she said as she turned around, got in her car, and went home.