ANOTHER SIMON SATURDAY

By: Kenda

 

 

*Another Simon Saturday is written under the assumption that Jack Simon wasn’t killed until A.J. was approximately ten years old, as alluded to in the aired episode, Revolution Number 91/2, and based on a work of fan fiction entitled Journey Into The Past by Brenda A.

 

*This was the first fan fiction story I wrote, and was penned in 1992. It’s based on a challenge that appeared in the Simon and Simon letterzine, Brothers, Partners and Friends. The challenge was in regards to the small scar Gerald McRaney has beneath his left eye.  We were asked to fictionalize that within the Simon and Simon world, and come up with a reason as to how Rick came by that scar.

 

 

Rolling thunder and the patter of a light rain falling against the bedroom windows woke Cecilia Simon on a Saturday morning in early November.  She glanced at the alarm clock and saw it was four a.m. Jack's side of the bed was empty. He had left early Thursday morning on an extended weekend camping trip. This annual excursion included Jack's oldest brother, Will, their brother-in-law Jim, and three other family friends. It involved four days of fishing, hiking, and card playing. It was Cecilia's opinion that it simply provided the opportunity for six grown men to spend a few days acting like little boys.

 

Cecilia certainly didn't begrudge Jack his "boys’ club" weekend, as she teasingly referred to it. In fact, she felt he deserved a few days away. Jack put in long hours both at work and at home, and despite possessing a temper that often got the best of him, he was a loving, attentive husband and father. If Jack's free time wasn't being spent doing household chores and maintenance, then he could be found helping Rick scrounge junkyards for old bicycle parts, or seen in the backyard tossing a baseball with A.J.

 

As she began drifting back towards sleep, Cecilia wondered if the boys’ club members were staying dry, then scolded herself for her daydreaming.

 

I'd better quit worrying about grown men who can take care of themselves, and get a few more hours of sleep. Saturday or not, rain or shine, A.J. will be in here at six-thirty, ready to start the day.

 

_______________________

 

Two and a half hours later, Cecilia was awakened by a repetitive ‘squeak,’ ‘squeak,’ ‘squeak,’ of mattress springs as a six-year-old bounced on her queen-sized bed. Normally on Saturday mornings, this was Jack and A.J.’s time to spend roughhousing. Until recently, Rick had been a participant in this mayhem as well, but had gone into retirement while telling his father,  "I'm gettin' too old for that kinda stuff."

 

In light of that explanation, Jack extracted a promise from A.J. that he wouldn't have any more birthdays since, "Dad doesn't know what he'll do when there are no more little boys to wrestle with.”

 

Cecilia looked at the clock and saw it was six-forty.

 

"You're getting lazy in your old age, Andrew. You're ten minutes later than usual."

 

A.J. giggled as she sat up, poked him in the ribs, and gave him a kiss.

 

“How'd you sleep? Did you hear the thunder?" 

 

A.J. shook his head as he made his final bounce. He landed on his bottom in the center of the big bed.

 

"No, I slept good, even without Dad here to protect us. I guess because I knew Rick was here, and he can protect us almost as good as Dad."

 

Cecilia crossed her arms over her chest in mock indignation. "So you don't think I can protect you? And what in the world do you think you need to be protected from anyway?"

 

A.J. sighed as he got on his hands and knees and crawled over the covers. He knelt beside his mother, looking her in the eyes.

 

"Mom, it's cruel world out there, and there's lots of things like burglars, and zombies, and werewolves, and Martians, who would come after a pretty lady or a little kid, and take them away to where no one would ever see them again. Rick says that’s why we need him and Dad."

 

"Andrew, I think you have quite an imagination, and you believe everything your big brother tells you, even when he's pulling your leg."

 

“Uh huh.”

 

“Yes,” Cecilia smiled.  “I do. So now that you and I have survived the long night without being kidnapped by zombies, are you ready for breakfast?"

 

A.J. scrambled to his feet, using the mattress as a trampoline again.  "Yes, yes, yes!" he shouted, then bounced off the bed and landed on the floor.

 

“Andrew, I've told you more than once not to do that. You could break a foot or leg pulling that stunt. Don’t do it again, or you won't be allowed in here any more on Saturday mornings, do you understand?"

 

At A.J.’s nod, Cecilia asked, "I assume Rick's still sleeping?"

 

“Yeah.”

 

"All right, then quietly get dressed, wash your hands, and comb your hair while I do the same. Then I'll get breakfast started while you take Barney outside. We'll let Rick sleep until breakfast is ready, how's that sound?"

 

"Sounds good, Mom!” A.J. ran for the hallway. “Rick needs his sleep. He's probably tired from ‘tecting us last night."

 

Cecilia shook her head and smiled as her youngest disappeared from view. Twenty minutes later, Cecilia was in the kitchen with the sounds of big band music coming softly from the radio as A.J. entered dressed for play. He headed for the basement door to let the boys’ beagle, Barney, come upstairs.

 

“A.J., it's still drizzling out, and it's chilly. You're going to need more than a short sleeve shirt today. Go upstairs and get a long sleeve one, or put a sweatshirt on over that shirt. You have one hanging in the coat closet. You can put it on when you get your jacket."

 

"I don't need a jacket, too, if I put on a sweatshirt, do I?"

 

"Yes, you do. You need to have a hood on if you're going to be outside. Now put out your sweatshirt and a jacket please."

 

Cecilia heard grumbling from within the kitchen coat closet, but chose to ignore it, just as she ignored much of the male grumbling that when on in her home from time to time.

 

Holding his jacket and sweatshirt in one hand, A.J. opened the basement door. As usual, Barney was waiting at the top of the stairs for him. The two-year-old brown and white spotted beagle danced on his hind legs and greeted his family with kisses and barks. He tugged on the hem of A.J.'s jacket and playfully growled as the boy tried to get dressed. Intervention by Cecilia finally got this task accomplished. She attached the dog’s leash to his collar, then handed the looped end to A.J.  Barney followed the boy out the side kitchen door.

 

"Get that hood on, young man!” Cecilia ordered. “And don't think I won't know if you take it off."

 

The woman walked to the patio doors to make sure A.J. had done as he had been told. He didn't look pleased, but the hood was on.

 

Oh well, I may not be voted Mother of the Year by A.J., but I'll have reward enough if I can get him through this winter without an ear infection or strep throat.

 

A damp little boy and dog entered the kitchen ten minutes later to the smell of pancakes and bacon. Cecilia handed A.J. a towel.

 

"Wipe Barney’s feet off. I don't want him on the carpeting all wet like that."

 

 "Okay." As A.J. proceeded to clean each of the squirming dog’s paws, he commented, "Maybe I can teach Barney to wipe his feet off on the rug by the door so I don't have to do this on rainy days any more."

 

“You can try,” Cecilia said, while stacking pancakes on a platter, “but don't count on it. I've been attempting to teach Rick that trick for eleven years now, and I haven't been successful yet. And speaking of Rick, go wake him up and tell him breakfast is ready.”

 

As A.J. headed toward the living room with Barney at his heels, Cecilia called, "Whoops! You forgot to take off your jacket off. Give it to me so I can hang it back up. That way it will be dry when you want to go out again."

 

A.J. skipped back in the kitchen. "Jacket on, jacket off, jacket on, jacket off. I sure wish you'd make up your mind."

 

As A.J. turned away, his mother playfully swatted his bottom.  "Don't get smart with me, Andrew Jackson. Now go get your brother." Raising her voice so it would carry around the corner where her son had disappeared, she said, “And tell him no goofing off! It’s time to start the day.”

 

 

 

_______________________

 

     Rick had been dozing on and off since he’d heard A.J. get up that morning.

 

"Rick! Hey Rick! It's time to get up, breakfast is ready."

 

Rick pretended to be asleep with the hope that A.J. would give up his efforts and return downstairs. Rick knew this ploy would buy him only a few extra minutes of peace. If A.J. couldn't rouse him, their mother would appear in the doorway demanding he get up. There was no way Rick could ignore her like he could his younger brother. Or least no way he could ignore her if he didn’t want to spend his Saturday confined to the house.

 

The room had grown quiet once again, and Rick had just convinced himself he would soon be hearing his mother’s voice, when that notion was erased from his mind.

 

A.J. made running leap and landed on top of Rick with a rebel yell.

 

"Wake up, Rick!” A.J. tickled his brother’s ribs. “Wake Up!" 

 

Between is laughter, Rick threatened, "You better knock it off if you know what's good for you, squirt."

 

The tickling didn’t cease, but instead, increased.

 

"I mean it, A.J.! Stop it, or you'll pay the price."

 

Rick arched his back and rolled away from his sibling. He reached up and grasped A.J.'s wrists, putting an end to his little brother's fun. With A.J. still sitting on his stomach giggling, Rick tried to look as stern as possible.

 

"That's a horrible way to wake up. You're gonna pay for this, A.J."

 

"No, I'm not. Now get up, Rick! Mom says breakfast is ready."

 

A.J. started climbing off his brother, only to have Rick flip him on his back. The older boy pinned the younger to the bed and another round of tickling started. Barney barked and started pulling on the bed covers with his teeth.

 

“I'll teach you to tickle me, short legs. You better remember who the big brother is around here."

 

"Rick, stop! Stop!" A.J. begged with his legs and arms flailing. “Mom said no goofing around. Stop, Rick!"

 

With a thorough tousling of the blond hair, Rick finally let A.J. go. He tore out of the bedroom calling over his shoulder, "I'll race ya' down!" A.J. pushed himself off Rick's bed and sprinted out of the doorway after him. Rick bounded into the kitchen with A.J. and Barney at his heels.

 

"Hi, Mom."

 

"Good morning, sweetheart." Cecilia ruffled Rick's dark hair as the boys took their seats and she began dishing up breakfast. “It sounded like World War III had broken out up there. What was going on?”

 

“Nothing,” Rick shrugged.

 

“Nothing,” A.J. echoed.

 

Cecilia didn’t question the boys further about the roughhousing she had heard.  They were fiercely loyal to one another, and would rarely complain or grouse over the typical day-to-day happenings that came with being siblings.

 

The family watched the rain splash against the patio doors while they ate. 

 

“Boy, I bet Dad’s gettin’ wet,” Rick said, as he speared another mouthful of pancakes. “Wish I could have gone with him.”

 

“Someday you’ll be able to,” Cecilia assured.

 

“When? And don’t say when I’m older.”

 

The woman smiled. “What if that’s the answer.”

 

“Then I don’t wanna hear it, ‘cause I think I’m old enough now.”

 

“Yeah,” A.J. agreed. “And I’m old enough, too.”

 

“You’re both getting older faster than I want to acknowledge,” Cecilia said,” but you’re not quite old enough to go on a camping trip for grown men only. The time will come soon enough.”

 

“I don’t think so, ‘cause I’ve only been in the sixth grade for two months and it seems like a hundred years.”

 

Cecilia laughed as she stood. “I’m sure it seems like that to your teacher, as well.”  

 

The boys began clearing the table, a job that was theirs after every meal. When the last dish had been brought to Cecilia she issued the same instructions she did every Saturday morning.

 

"Go upstairs and brush your teeth, then get your beds made. Rick, clean out the junk from under your bed that you've been putting there all week you think I don't know about.

 

“A.J., please bring me down the dirty clothes in the hamper, and then feed Barney and give him fresh water. Rick, all the garbage cans in the house need to be emptied. You can do that while your brother’s taking care of the dog."

 

"Jeez, Mom, is there anything else after that, or are the slaves free?" 

 

"Don’t tempt me, young man. I'm sure I can think of plenty more to keep you busy all day if I'm put in the right mood." 

 

Grabbing the front of his brother’s sweatshirt, Rick pulled A.J. toward the doorway. "Come on, we better get while the getting’s good."

 

"You boys check with me before you disappear anywhere! And comb your hair again, A.J. I don't know what your brother did to you, but you look like you've been caught in a tornado."

 

"It was Rick Simon's champion wrestling hold, Mom!" her eldest called back.

 

Cecilia shook her head at the boyish nonsense as she began doing the dishes.

 

_______________________

 

While A.J. brushed his teeth, Rick changed from his pajamas into blue jeans and a flannel shirt. The two boys made their beds, then A.J. worked diligently at picking up the toys that were scattered around the room. While the six-year-old was doing that, Rick poked his nose under his bed. He pulled out a hot rod magazine, sat on the edge of his bed and leafed through it. The blond boy sidled up to his big brother.

 

"What are you gonna do today?" 

 

Rick glanced up from his magazine. "I don't know. Carlos is grounded this weekend, and Mike is away at band camp, and I guess if it keeps raining like this nobody will be at the park playing football. What about you?  You headin' over to Danny's after your work is done?"

 

A.J. plopped down on his stomach on Rick’s bed and propped his chin up in his hands. "Danny’s not home. His mom and dad had to go somewhere, so Danny and his sisters are staying at their grandma’s.”

 

"Oh," replied Rick. "Well, what about the Taylor twins?"

 

"They've got the measles. Their Mom man says they're comical."

 

"Comical? You mean communicable?" 

 

"Yeah, something like that. Anyway, there’s no one to play with.” A.J. thought a moment, and then brightened. “Hey, Rick!  “If you're not gonna be with the big guys today, let's play together, huh?"

 

"I'm gettin' kinda old to play," replied Rick with all the self-importance he could muster.

 

"Well, then,” A.J. said as he sat up, "let's have an adventure. Yeah, it's a good day for an adventure, Rick."

 

"A.J.," Rick sighed, "you can't plan an adventure. Adventures just happen."

 

"No, you're wrong. Remember when Mom and Dad were at the Kremlins’ that Sunday a few weeks ago and left you in charge? I said, "Let's have popcorn," and you said "Okay" and then when the popcorn started popping you said, "Hey, A.J., let's pop the popcorn with the lid off!" and there was popcorn all over the kitchen, and it was real neat, and that was an adventure, Rick, see?" 

 

"Yeah, and I also remember I got in a lotta trouble for that adventure, too."

 

“Oh. Yeah. I forgot about that.”  The six-year-old craned to see over his brother’s shoulder. “What are you looking at?"

 

Rick held the magazine up so A.J. could see the photograph the older boy has been admiring.

 

“Look at this guy, A.J. He jumps over cars with his motorcycle. That’s so cool. There's twelve cars here he's jumping over."

 

"How does he do that?"

 

"Well, he gets his motorcycle goin’ real fast, and then takes it up that ramp, and then jumps over the cars."

 

"That's neat,” A.J. agreed, as he climbed off the bed, “but please can we do something together today?"

 

With one final glance at his magazine, Rick also got off the bed. He rolled the magazine up and put it in his back pocket.

 

"Okay, kid, I’ve got an idea of something just you and me can do, but we’d better get our work done first. Since you're almost done with your chores, how about helping me with mine? That way I'll be done sooner."

 

"Sure, I'll help you. After all, it's only fair. Ever since you explained to me about how you being five years older means you had to do twice as much work until I came along, it only seems right that I should help you."

 

Rick tousled A.J.'s hair.  "You're a good brother, A.J."

 

Boy, this kid has got a lot to learn, Rick thought, while watching A.J. get down on his hands and knees in order to get the toys, dirty clothes, and comic books from beneath Rick’s bed. It's a good thing A.J.'s got me around to teach him how to handle himself, or someone would take advantage of him.

 

_______________________

 

 

When their assigned tasks were completed, Rick and A.J. stood at the top of the basement stairs. Rick called down to their mother, who was folding laundry, "Mom, we've finished our work! Me and A.J. are gonna be out in the garage."

 

Cecilia came to the bottom of the stairway and looked up at her boys. "It's A.J. and I, Rick, not me and A.J. What are you going to do out there?"

 

"I don't know," shrugged Rick. "Maybe build something with the scrap lumber Dad has."

 

"All right, but be careful. Don't use any power tools, and remember to put things back where you found them."

 

“I know the rules,” Rick assured.

 

"All right then. Put jackets on, both of you. And, Rick, keep an eye on your brother. Don't let him get hurt using any tools."

 

"I know, Mom!” Rick called from the coat closet. “I always watch him."

 

Above this conversation Cecilia could hear A.J. calling for Barney.

 

"A.J. leave Barney in the house, please! He doesn't need to go out now, and it's too wet for him to be roaming in the yard."

 

Cecilia heard a faint, "Okay, Mom!" as the back door shut. Barney soon appeared in the basement beside Cecilia. He looked up at her as if to say, "The boys are gone. Now what am I suppose to do?"

 

The woman reached down and patted the little dog’s head. “The boys will be back in soon enough. Lunch is only a couple of hours away.”

 

Cecilia resumed her work, knowing the two hours of peace and quiet she’d now have would go by fast.

 

_______________________

 

 

As the boys entered the garage, A.J. asked, "What are we gonna do out here?"

 

"You start looking through Dad's scrap pile. Look for some thick boards while I get those two sheets of warped plywood from out back that Dad was gonna burn."

 

"Okay, but what are we gonna do?"

 

"Remember that picture we looked at in my hot rod magazine? The one with the guy jumping over the cars on his motorcycle?"

 

“Yeah.”

 

"Well, I think we can build a ramp like his and use it for something."

 

"Use it for what?"

 

"I'm not sure yet, just look for those boards. okay? Jeez, you ask too many questions, squirt."

 

Rick turned and disappeared out the door. A.J. rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh as he poked through his father's scrap lumber in search of the requested material.

 

An hour and a half later, a ramp near completion stood in the middle of the garage floor. Rick had done the actual construction, while A.J. had been assigned various tasks by his ‘foreman’ such as getting more nails, lumber, and holding pieces of wood together while Rick pounded, sawed, and drilled.

 

A.J. returned the drill to his father’s workbench for Rick.  He still wasn't sure what they were going to do with the ramp. They didn't own a motorcycle, and even if they did, A.J. doubted that their mother would let them jump over cars with it.

 

"A.J.,” Rick summoned, “I need you to hold something for me."

 

"What?"

 

"Hold these two boards together like I've got them. They keep moving when I try to do it myself."

 

The boy skipped to the center of the garage floor and did as his brother requested.

 

Rick pounded in several nails, when the force of his hammer caused the boards to slip in A.J.'s grasp. Rick heard a loud "Ouch!" above the pounding. He looked up to see A.J. dancing from foot to foot while cradling his left hand in his right. 

 

"What's the matter? Did I hit you with the hammer?"

 

"N...no," the boy stammer while trying hard not to cry. "I got a sliver in my thumb. It really hurts, too."

 

"Here, let me see." Rick reached for his brother's hand and held it still. He peered at the small appendage. "You don't just have one sliver, kid. I see three. I'm really sorry about this."

 

"It's okay," A.J. sniffled, as a tear ran down either side of his face. “You didn’t do it on purpose.” 

 

Rick pulled A.J.'s head to his chest and patted his back.

 

"Come on, let's go in the house and take care of those. We've got to get ‘em out of there."

Rick laid a hand on A.J.’s back and ushered him for the side door that entered into the kitchen.

Cecilia was upstairs dusting the master bedroom when she heard the back door slam.

 

"Mom! Hey, Mom!"

 

"Just a minute, Richard, and I'll be down! Let me finish my work up here, and then I'll get lunch ready."

 

"We're not in for lunch!” Rick’s voice grew closer as he climbed the stairs with A.J. at his side. “A.J.'s got some slivers in his thumb." 

 

Cecilia laid her dust rag aside and headed for the bathroom down the hall.  She found Rick holding A.J.'s thumb under warm water, and A.J. with the markings of dried tears streaked on his dusty face. She rested a hand upon his head.

 

“How'd you manage to do this, sweetheart?"

 

"I was holding some boards for Rick and they slipped." A.J. sniffled, then added, "But it wasn't Rick's fault. He was being careful. It was an accident."

 

Cecilia smiled at A.J. and his emphatic defense of his big brother. "I know it was an accident. Now let's get the tweezers and get these out. They don't look like they’re in too deep. Rick would you get a clean hand towel from the linen closet along with the Band-Aids, please?"

 

Rick did as his mother requested, while Cecilia washed both of A.J.'s hands with soap and water. After drying his hands with the towel Rick gave her, she sat A.J. down on the closed toilet lid and knelt in front of him. Holding the tweezers she had retrieved from the medicine cabinet, Cecilia gently extracted the offending slivers.

 

Rick knelt beside A.J. and tried to distract him with small talk while their mother rendered the necessary medical attention.

 

Within a minute’s time the slivers were out.  Amidst some additional tears and three loud protests, a few dabs of iodine were applied to the wounds. This procedure was accompanied by several "Ouches!" supplied by the wounded member of the Simon family, along with a sympathetic “Ouch” given by Rick, and a high pitched howl thrown in by Barney, who had followed his family into the bathroom. This last event caused Cecilia and the boys to laugh, and helped dry the remaining tears.

 

Cecilia finished her first-aid procedures by placing a Band-Aid on the thumb, and using the washrag to clean A.J.'s face. Kissing the top of his head, Cecilia said, "There you go, Andrew, as good as new. Now, how about some lunch?"

 

At Rick's enthusiastic, "Yeah, we're starvin’," Cecilia headed out of the bathroom door with final instructions to her oldest son.

 

"Wash your hands and face too, Rick. You boys look like you've been rolling in dirt. And don't wad the towel and washcloth up in a ball when you're done. Hang them back up on the towel bar."

 

A.J. stayed in the bathroom while his brother washed. “How does she always know, Rick?"

 

"How does who always know what?" Rick asked, while hanging the towel and washcloth up like his mother had instructed.

 

"How does Mom always know you're gonna leave the towel and washrag thrown on the sink before you do it?"

 

"I don't know. I guess it's that thing she has that Dad calls women’s intuition. Whatever that is."

 

"Oh," A.J. with a shrug of his shoulders. And with that final bit of conversation regarding the mysterious ways of women, the Simon brothers headed to the kitchen.

_______________________

 

Rick and A.J. ate peanut butter sandwiches and vegetable soup, which was the exact meal the boys deemed appropriate for a chilly, fall day.  

 

Cecilia slowly ate at her own bowl of soup, enjoying the chance to sit down after her morning of housework. "What are you boys going to do this afternoon?"

 

"I don't know," shrugged Rick. “I guess we'll go back out to the garage. Our ramp is almost finished.”

 

"What are you building a ramp for?" 

 

"Just for something to do."

 

"Are you going back outside with your brother, A.J., or are you getting bored being his helper?"

 

Cecilia wasn't surprised at her youngest son’s answer.

 

"No, I'm not bored. I wanna go back out with Rick. The slivers were just an accident." 

 

"I know that," Cecilia reaffirmed. "I just thought if you wanted to stay inside, that you and I could play a game, or color in one of your coloring books."

 

"No,” A.J. said as he and Rick cleared the table of their dirty dishes. “I’ll go back out with Rick.”

 

Not for the first time, Cecilia was proud of her two boys and the close relationship they shared. Yes, they did their share of bickering and teasing, and occasionally that bickering and teasing got out of hand and escalated to the point that adult intervention was necessary. But for the most part, Rick and A.J., with guidance from their parents, were learning how to work out their own problems.

 

As Cecilia opened a book she had setting next to her, she saw Rick disappearing around the corner. 

 

"Where's Rick going? I thought you boys were headed outside."

 

"We are." A.J. ran to the coat closet for his jacket. "He went upstairs to get his hot rod magazine. There's a picture in it he wants to look at."

 

Had Cecilia not been distracted at that moment by Barney whining to go outside, and with giving A.J. instructions to keep his jacket on, and then the phone ringing, she might have investigated as to why Rick reappeared with his magazine rolled up in his back pocket, and why is was necessary for that magazine to go outside with him. Cecilia's attention was elsewhere, however, so with final instructions to her boys of, "Don’t wander off without telling me," she answered the phone to the sound of the kitchen door slamming. 

 

_______________________

 

 

Once in the garage, Rick picked up his hammer and put the finishing touches on his ramp. A.J. stood beside Rick with his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, watching the activity and again wondering what they were going to do with this ramp. He contemplated questioning Rick once again about this, but kept quiet and let Rick work. Although Rick generally possessed a fair amount of patience when dealing with his little brother, A.J. knew Rick found it annoying to be continuously questioned when he was working on a project. So, in deference to this, A.J. kept his peace.

 

Ten more minutes passed. A.J. could now see that if this ramp had a purpose, it would soon be revealed. Rick gathered the tools he’d been using and returned them to his father's workbench.

 

Rick turned from the workbench. "Pretty good lookin' ramp, don't ya' think, A.J.?"

 

"Yeah, it looks great," A.J. nodded. He smiled at Rick as his brother came up behind him and put an arm around A.J.'s shoulders.

 

The boys looked over their craftsmanship for a few moments while Barney scampered in and out of the garage.

 

"Yep,” Rick said while surveying the ramp with a critical eye, “this is one terrific ramp built by Simon and Simon. Now all we gotta do is see if it works."

 

"How are we gonna do that? We don't have a motorcycle like the one in your picture, and even if we did, Mom and Dad would kill us if we jumped it over the car."

 

Rick laughed. "A.J., you're somethin’ else sometimes, you know that? I know we don't have a motorcycle. Besides, even if I somehow got a hold of one, I’m not dumb enough to jump it over Dad's car."

 

"You're not dumb, Rick!" A.J. declared. "Mom says you just do things without thinking. That's not the same as being dumb."

 

Rick put his brother in a loose headlock and playfully wrestled with him. "Yeah, well some people think I do some pretty dumb things, but you're always in my corner, aren't you, kiddo?"

 

"You bet." A.J. squirmed out of Rick's loose grasp. "Now tell me what we're gonna do with our ramp."

 

"Well, I've been thinkin’ that we could get a few garbage cans and line 'em up on their sides, and then I could ride my bike up the ramp and jump over them."

 

A.J.' s eyes grew rounder and rounder as he listened to his brother, and began shaking his head. "I don't think that's such a good idea, Rick. You could get hurt, and you just got your bike for Christmas last year. If something happens to it, Mom and Dad will sure be mad at you."

 

"Don't ya' think I know that? Jeez, give me a little credit here. I'm not gonna use my new bike. I'll use the one Dad and I built out of those old parts we got at the junkyard. The frame's a lot heavier than my new bike, and besides, I paid for all those parts with my all allowance, so if something gets broken it won't be a big deal to Mom and Dad."

 

"I don't know, Rick. Are you sure Mom and Dad won't care?"

 

"Yeah, I'm sure. Just look at this picture, this is so neat." Rick pulled his magazine out of his back pocket and the boys studied it together. "I know I can do this. All I've got to do is get goin’ fast enough, and then get the front wheel up in the air once I take off the ramp like the picture shows."

 

"But look,” A.J. pointed at the picture. “He's gonna land on another ramp after he jumps over those cars, and we don't have another ramp." 

 

"I know. I already thought of that. We don't have enough plywood to build another ramp, but I don't think we'll need one. I won't be goin’ nearly as high or as fast as this guy, so one ramp should be okay. Don't worry, A.J. This will be great."

 

"Okay, if you say so. I guess it’ll be fun, but I get a turn too."

 

At the negative look on Rick's face, A.J. pleaded, "It's only fair, Rick. I helped build the ramp, too. I even got three slivers, and you said we built it - Simon and Simon - that's what you said!"

 

Rick could tell he would have to do some persuasive talking to get this idea out of his brother's head. He didn’t blame A.J. for wanting to try the ramp, too, and he knew how much the kid hated being told he was too little to do some of the things Rick did. But the fact of the matter was, A.J. was too young and too small in stature to try jumping his bike off the ramp.

 

Rick crouched down in front of A.J. "Look, A.J., you aren't gonna be able to try this." A.J. started to protest again, so Rick hurried on. "You just said yourself that Mom and Dad would kill me if I used my new bike for this. Well, you got your bike new last Christmas, too, so you know they wouldn't want you using it for something like this either. I'd let you use the old one I built, but it's too big for you. You can't even reach the pedals."