Randomness

They were slightly concerned when they discovered the house was all locked up and still no paternal figure in sight. Scott was all for breaking in to make sure their dad hadn't collapsed. Only EOS’s quickly relayed medical read out from Jeff's smart watch had stopped Scott from kicking in the glass in the back door. A quick check on the GPS data from the same smart watch advised them to look in the nearby town. EOS would have told them this sooner, but she hadn’t wanted to interrupt Gordon, who was pointing out why smashing the glass of the back door was the most stupid option, since there were at least three more easily accessible entry points in the old building which would make much more sense. They were all more than a little worried that the squid seemed to have cased the joint. Virgil asked EOS to add those ingress points to the maintenance list, he would rather the old place was a bit more secure than a revolving door. 

The walk into town used to take them about 50 minutes, and even with adult strides, it was deemed both too much effort and too slow, from different parties in the group. Virgil disappeared into a storage shed, and much as Alan might have been hoping for hover bikes, the triumphant cry from Virgil only unearthed a pile of their old bicycles. 

Alan groaned, and John quickly bagsied the one with the least punishing looking saddle. A quick brush down and the application of some grease to the chains soon had them road worthy enough. They set off quickly before Alan could lose patience at Gordon, who kept suggesting the youngest ought to ride the little kiddie trike, and inflict some lasting damage in retaliation. 

Scott had nabbed his own old bike, nobody was stupid enough to try and part him from what had been the pride and joy of his early teens. Holographic stickers and a metallic paint job. Thank god Jeff had believed in buying things with growing room, as they had to shove the seat up as far as it would go. John had taken possession of their mothers old bike, complete with wicker basket, he could appreciate the importance of a sprung seat and a relaxed upright ride. His old bike had been passed down to Alan, who thought the racing bike with his dropped handlebar and million and one gears was the best thing since sliced bagels. Virgil had been left with Jeff's old bike, and he glared at anyone who looked like they were about to laugh at the inelegant hop he had to do in order to get his leg over the high central bar. Even with the intervening years, Virgil hadn’t quite caught up, and a few hasty adjustments were required with a wrench. 

Gordon had been so preoccupied chasing Alan around with the kiddie trike, that he was left with the choice of either said kiddie trike, or an off road mountain bike with squeaky suspension and a cool neon paint job. Scott claimed it had been their grandmothers, but the rest couldn’t be sure he wasn’t just pulling their legs. There was no contest really, the neon colour scheme called to him, and despite all the short jokes, the kiddie trike would have left him a cramping mess before they got even half way to town. 

They managed the journey in good time, right up until they hit traffic. Traffic! In this quiet backwater? 

“What’s going on?” Scott asked, no demanded, with the confidence of someone who was used to having answers provided when he asked. 

“How the hell should I know?” John called back from his position in the third row of bicycles. Which was unexpected enough to make Scott screech to a stop. It was just as well that they had slowed right down in the stream of traffic, because Virgil nearly swerved into the back of him. 

“Aggh!” Virgil braked hard, “it’s obviously for the car show!”

“Car show? What car show?” Scott failed to see what was obvious. 

“The one Dads been organsing!” Virgil's legionary patience was getting tested, Scott looked blank. “Bet you’d have listened if John said it,”Virgil grumbled as he pushed a little more forcefully on the pedals.  

“Maybe it's for the car show!” John shouted up from where he had slipped to the fourth row of bikes while he had been conversing with EOS from where her portable drive was cradled in the wicker bike basket.