Free Phoenix by Jeff Stone Page B

trails.”
    I groaned. “So I’ve been told.”
    “This is serious. Do you agree to listen to me or not?”
    “Agreed.”
    Hú Dié nodded and turned away. “Good night then, Phoenix.”
    “Good night, Iron Butterfly.”
    She left, and I spread out my makeshift bed. As I lay down among the bicycles, I wondered what the heck I had just gotten myself into.
    I slept very little that night. I wanted to blame my wakefulness on the time difference and the eight hours I’dslept on the bus, but I knew there was more. Not only did I have concerns about Hú Dié, who had just pushed her way into my life, I was also worried about Grandfather. He had appeared more or less okay when I left, but he was extremely tough, and he had always had a face of stone. It was impossible to tell how he really felt. He could be in agony and no one would know it. I looked forward to calling him as soon as the ride to Cangzhen Temple was over. I was dying to know how he was doing. It took me a long time to fall asleep.
    I woke to something having dropped onto my face. I scrambled to sit up, finding that the object was the cargo shorts I’d given Hú Dié the night before.
    “Try them on,” Hú Dié said, hovering over me. “I hope they fit. I do not want to have to make another pair. I spent half the night working on them.”
    I examined the shorts and found that she had sewn padding into them. I didn’t know what to say. Like many riders, I felt that padded riding shorts were a rider’s most important piece of equipment outside of a helmet.
    “Thank you,” I said. “They look awesome, just like you’d find in a store.”
    “They are better than you would find in a store. Now put them on. I’ll turn around.”
    Hú Dié turned away, and I hurriedly changed into the shorts, embarrassed. I squatted a few times. “You’re right. These are better than anything I’ve tried from a store. They are really comfortable, like they were custom-made for me.”
    “They
were
custom-made for you.”
    “Oh, yeah. Thanks a lot.”
    “Can I turn around now?”
    “Sure, sorry.”
    Hú Dié turned and looked me up and down. “The shorts do fit you well,” she said. “Now let’s see how I do with a bike. Do you still like that blue and white full-suspension? The one with the welds you questioned?”
    I nodded.
    “How do you like your ride? Firm? Soft?”
    “I like my front forks firm,” I said. “I’ve never ridden a bike with a rear suspension, so I don’t know what to tell you about the rear shock absorber adjustment. I ride a hard-tail back home.”
    “Don’t you like shocks?”
    “I can’t afford full suspension. I’ve always wanted to try one, though.”
    “Well, now is your chance. Hard-tails are good for smooth tracks with small hills and lots of turns. More of your energy is transferred to the rear wheel instead of being absorbed by the rear suspension. However, on rocky trails in the mountains like we’re going to ride, full suspension is the way to go, especially over long distances. Your butt will thank you.”
    “My butt already thanks
you
for the padding,” I joked.
    Hú Dié rolled her eyes, but she cracked a smile. She went behind the tall counter and returned with a handful of hex wrenches, motioning for me to follow her over to the blue and white mountain bike. She began making adjustments, looking back and forth several times between the bike and me as she worked. I’d never seensomeone work so quickly. First, she raised the seat post and adjusted the seat angle. Then she changed the angle of the handlebars and repositioned the brake levers. She even moved the gearshift thumb toggles to a slightly different location.
    “Don’t you need to measure me before you make those changes?” I asked.
    “No. I am very good at judging dimensions just by looking at things.” She grabbed a small, specialized hand pump to adjust the air pressure within the bike’s rear shock absorber, which isolated the rear tire from the