The Adventures of Campy Girlymann Continue

Once the clang of the gate  stopped ringing in their ears, Michel peddled toward the carriage building.  Separate from the estate, yet made of the same stone and architectural style that had five large garage wood doors that faced a paved parking area. It appeared there were quarters above the garage for the chauffeur and staff. On the side of the building was a door with a bell. Michel rang and waited. Within a minute someone answered the door.

"Ah, Michel, you're here, let me open the back for you." With that, the old man walked back and Michel motioned for Campy to follow him. they went behind the building where a  large door creaked opened and there stood the man who had greeted them. Inside were all types of bikes and sports gear. On one side were two men playing cards at a small wood table. They looked to see who was there, smiled at Michel and continued with their cards.

"He wants you to check two bikes out and also the washing machine. The maids said it's not draining right."

"I repair bikes, not washing machines." Michel said with a strained look.

"I know, I know but please, you're good with machines. It's not the master that asked, it was the maids. They fear he will garnish their wages and blame them for it breaking."

Michel was silent for a while and then nodded his head, "I'll do it. But I don't have parts for washing machines. If it needs a part, I'll tell you what you need to buy to fix it."

"Fair enough, and I'll tell the girls, they'll be so pleased."

The old man looked over to Michel's assistant, "Someone new?"

"His learning, asked if he could hang around and learn the trade but for why I don't know, probably too stupid to do be a cobbler."

Campy kept his head down and his eyes on the ground. He could tell the old man look him over before he sighed and let the both into the workshop. 

It was a comfortable place. On the table where the two played cards was an old radio playing cabaret songs. Near the table, that sat in front of the window, was a bird cage with a bright yellow canary inside singing its heart out to the music. On all the other sides were tools of every description, all very old looking but in good condition and each on its own peg in the wall. Cables and ropes hung from hooks from the ceiling and large shelves held wood of various types and sizes. The two bikes were leaning against the shelves of wood.

When Campy's eyes focused on the two bikes, he could hardly believe what he saw, the first one was a carbon fiber, black and white and behind it was his beloved De Rosa. It looked as if it was left outside from the dirt and grime that caked the tubing. There was no luster of the brilliant metallic blue paint, or the glimmer of chrome that had, at one time, sent mirrored flashes of light back to the beholder. The tires were worn and flat, the chain rusty and the bars bent in an awkward manner. 

He had to catch himself, had to keep breathing and not rush over to the De Rosa's side to lovingly clean and mend all that was wrong. It was with every fiber of his being that he stilled himself and waited for Michel to say something.

His boss, said nothing but told him to retrieve the bike stand, tools, and cleaning rags. That, at least allowed Campy to regain his composure while he unpacked the two tricycles of their tools.

To be continued.......but first.. I've been out with a damn kidney stone. It's a third of an inch, a half of centimeter. When my pearl finally worms its way out of my kidney and into the pipe, I'll have me a new ear stud. But until then, I'm having the pangs of birth to bring forth the Pearl of Great Price. Bear with me as I try and flush the pearl out and get back to writing about Campy.