The time came that Wes and I needed to head home. We kissed the girls goodbye (repeatedly), and took off.
We rode across the highway, and into the neighborhood behind the Magic Mart store. About a quarter mile down the road, we turned left and headed over toward Harbert Drive. We had avoided Harbert on the way out, because it has a lot of traffic (by Savannah, Tennessee standards, anyway), but we were in a hurry to get back. Time was ticking down on the bike I had borrowed.
Jeff had asked me to get his bike home by 4:00. I didn't realize it, at the time, but he wanted the bike back before his dad got home from work. Mr. Holland was apparently not too hip to loaning stuff out.
Wes and I turned right onto Harbert Drive. I stood up on the pedals and cranked hard, to accelerate down the slight slope. As I pedaled, the rim spun slightly in the tire and the valve stem ripped out of the under-inflated tube.
Well, neither of us had a spare tube. Or a wrench to remove the wheel. Or a pump.
So, we walked the couple of miles home. It took a while, pushing a bike with a flat tire, and it was well after 4:00 when we walked into my driveway. We also walked into a firestorm.
Mr. Holland was there, almost frothing at the mouth because I had "taken" Jeff's bike. Apparently, Jeff didn't want to get in trouble for letting me use his bike, so he threw me under the bus and told his dad that I had forced him to let me take it.
It took about a half-hour to get everything straightened out, during which time I was alittle concerned that my daddy and Jeff's were going to duke it out.
Finally, Jeff told his dad the truth. To his credit, Mr. Holland did apologize to me (and Daddy) for the whole big thing. But, Jeff and I never really hung out, too much, after that.