John Allen

Lucy Allen Seabolt/ Martin and /Rita

Soup of the day 15 through 19

On the following Wednesday my new family had all established a shaky relationship with me. Lucy of course was fine. Martin was more edgy about my new place in the family. I expected it was a hormone thing. All that raging testosterone, I thought. I know, I had read too much in the joint, but it looked as though he fit the profile of a male dog. One who had a share his home with new male dog. The fact that I wasn’t really IN the home, didn’t seem to matter.

Rita was a different kettle of hormones. Best I could figure, she was flirting with the new guy, either to piss off her mother, or to validate her own budding sexuality. I resisted any acknowledgment of her sexuality. It seemed to be the best course of action. Ignore it and hope is just wore itself out.

On the morning of the 15th day home I checked my bank account and found a deposit of $68,600. No it wasn’t enough for the twenty years I had lost, or all the pain and suffering I endured. I however was something. That along with the pension, from the state, for the rest of my life was a pretty good settlement.

I had wrestled with my decision about a ride, while I dealt with moving over the weekend. My decision was purely temporary, but I hoped it would be a good one. I did my research for the highest quality one available. I found out that none of the 50cc models from china were dependable.

It looked like the best I could do was to buy pieces and then have a local shop build what I wanted. I did a hell of a lot of research before I came up with a plan. I planned to buy a twenty inch adult tricycle as a frame. It was a nice looking one speed trike from a bike shop in a larger town. Lucy agreed to borrow her ex-husband’s pickup truck to pick it up.

At the same time we carried the frame to the Lawnmower & go cart repair shop in Rosedale. To that frame I had the gocart / lawnmower repair shop agree to add an unmarked 5.5 horse power horizontal shaft Honda engine. It had a pull cord starter, which I wasn’t thrill with, but I could live with it. The throttle was designed for a moped scooter, but it was a good one according to the shop’s owner. Of course I lost the storage basket, but the lawnmower man assured me I would have plenty of power to pull a small trailer.

I took delivery of the trike on the 19th day since my release. I even managed to pay the shop in cash case for the installation. I bought the parts on my new debit card. The home built trike cost me little over a grand total, but the lawn mower man assured me it would outlive me. I hoped not, was my thought.