The Click-Clack-Click of a spinning

freewheel fills through the air as I

realign a formerly broken chain

with the proper cogs on the backwheel

of a nine year old's bike.

The front wheel wobbles and needs

to be trued with the subtle tightening

of a spoke wrench; as it twists against

the threads of black anodized spokes

small creaks are heard with each passing twist.

The brakes squeal and next begins the

process of toeing in, adjusting the brake

pads to just the right angle so that they

run smoothly and bring the full force

of the bike to a graceful stop.

Handing the bike back to the nine year

old's father he bends down to inspect my

work with a shrewd eye, he drops the money

on the counter and leaves pulling the arm

of the nine year old out the door.

I wonder if that little nine year old has

someone to adjust the chain of a broken

heart, to make the spokes of character run

true, or to adjust the brakes of judgement

so that they always work perfectly.

I know I'll always have a job because

everyone needs to have a well tuned bike.