Ironbird was no fool, at least where patterns were concerned. Upon hearing the three tolls of the tower, he no longer wondered if it was all a dream or if there would be another visitor. Whether or not it was a dream, he was along for the ride; all that was left was to see the form of the night's final guest.
It did not take long. At first it was only a sound, that of wet feet on hardwood floors, the flat-footed steps slapped as they struck the floor. Then the ghost appeared. He was short, stocky, and rather bandy-legged. He was middle-aged and furry, not cuddly like a teddy bear, rather gross with a back like a bathroom throw rug. His swim cap was pulled too far down his forehead, and his goggles overlarge. He squinted through the lenses at Ironbird. Removing his nose clip, he spoke.
"Sorry I'm late... had to put in a few more laps. Just getting the hang of this thing, really. I tell you, I've done it for years, but I've just stopped using a pull buoy."
"Listen, I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but... aren't you supposed to be mute? You know, point with your creepy bony fingers and stuff?"
"That was before. I just didn't know what to say. I've remade myself again, and now I have plenty to talk about."
"Okay... why are you here?"
"Let me show you."
The poltergeist snapped his towel on Ironbird's rear, causing him to wince in pain. When his eyes reopened, he was at a harbor near a very large body of water. It might have been an ocean, except the water was too clear and too blue. No, more likely a large fresh-water lake. All around the harbor were athletes preparing to swim. It was obviously some kind of event, probably a large triathlon.
The two visitors moved in closer to a group of athletes waiting for their wave, listening to their conversation.
"I hear he's completely washed up."
"That's what I heard too. Tired of being hurt, stopped training, that kind of thing."
"Never figured him for such a wuss."
"Me neither. I never thought he'd let himself go like that, either."
"You're not kidding! What do you think he weighs now? 500 lbs.?"
"You're being generous. I can't imagine how his bones can carry all that meat."
"They can't. He hasn't been able to walk for years."
Ironbird was intrigued. "Spirit, who is the individual they're speaking of?" It is human nature to be curious about another's fall from grace, and Ironbird was just as human as anyone.
"Union rules prevent me from just telling you, but how about I give you a huge clue?" was the reply.
Instantly they vanished from the harbor and reappeared in a garage. Where exactly was impossible to say, as the door was down and there were no windows to peer out. Looking around, Ironbird spotted a bicycle hanging on a wall. Curious, he moved closer to get a look at the components.
It was a black and white Kestrel Airfoil with Mavic deep-set wheels, SRAM components, SMG saddle, and a single water cage. There was no doubt about it - it was his bike!
The reality set in instantly, and was confirmed by the ghost's cruel smile. The athletes had been speaking of him! HE weighed over 500 lbs. and was bed-ridden.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Ironbird. "Spirit, these things I have seen, are they images of what must be or what might be? Surely they can be changed, else what is the point of showing me? If they can be changed, they will be changed; I will be a new person, Spirit, if only you give me the chance. I will be a training fool again, working hard every day to improve as I can. I will not lose hope, nor the joy of simply being able to do one more day of exercise. I will be whole in mind, body and spirit! I will support all who share my lifestyle. Give me one more chance!"
Ironbird awoke hugging his Garmin running watch. Light streamed in from the window, and without hesitation he tore open the windows and looked out. It was a glorious day; the sun was out, the air was cool, and the breeze light - a perfect day to exercise. Below, a small boy was walking by. It was the same child from Wendy's the night before.
"You there! Boy! Do you like Wendy's?"
"You know that I do!"
"Of course you do, of course you do. Clever boy. Here, take this $20, go buy yourself a #6 and a large frosty. Keep the change!"
"I will, sir! And thank you!" And with that, the boy rushed off for his treasure.
Ironbird wasted no time. His watch told him it was Saturday, and he knew there'd be a race at the lake. Donning his gear, he sprinted out the door, loaded up his car, and sped off to the lake. He raced, and though he didn't place in his age group, it was the best race of his new life (so far).
Ironbird was as good as his word. He became an ambassador for fitness, encouraging all to enjoy a healthy lifestyle. As he was advanced in years, he never got faster - no matter. He remembered in his heart the joy of being able to go out there and do it at all, to enjoy this day, this run, this experience, whatever it was. And as long as he lived, those around him new him to be healthy, happy, and always out there staying fit.
It did not take long. At first it was only a sound, that of wet feet on hardwood floors, the flat-footed steps slapped as they struck the floor. Then the ghost appeared. He was short, stocky, and rather bandy-legged. He was middle-aged and furry, not cuddly like a teddy bear, rather gross with a back like a bathroom throw rug. His swim cap was pulled too far down his forehead, and his goggles overlarge. He squinted through the lenses at Ironbird. Removing his nose clip, he spoke.
"Sorry I'm late... had to put in a few more laps. Just getting the hang of this thing, really. I tell you, I've done it for years, but I've just stopped using a pull buoy."
"Listen, I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but... aren't you supposed to be mute? You know, point with your creepy bony fingers and stuff?"
"That was before. I just didn't know what to say. I've remade myself again, and now I have plenty to talk about."
"Okay... why are you here?"
"Let me show you."
The poltergeist snapped his towel on Ironbird's rear, causing him to wince in pain. When his eyes reopened, he was at a harbor near a very large body of water. It might have been an ocean, except the water was too clear and too blue. No, more likely a large fresh-water lake. All around the harbor were athletes preparing to swim. It was obviously some kind of event, probably a large triathlon.
The two visitors moved in closer to a group of athletes waiting for their wave, listening to their conversation.
"I hear he's completely washed up."
"That's what I heard too. Tired of being hurt, stopped training, that kind of thing."
"Never figured him for such a wuss."
"Me neither. I never thought he'd let himself go like that, either."
"You're not kidding! What do you think he weighs now? 500 lbs.?"
"You're being generous. I can't imagine how his bones can carry all that meat."
"They can't. He hasn't been able to walk for years."
Ironbird was intrigued. "Spirit, who is the individual they're speaking of?" It is human nature to be curious about another's fall from grace, and Ironbird was just as human as anyone.
"Union rules prevent me from just telling you, but how about I give you a huge clue?" was the reply.
Instantly they vanished from the harbor and reappeared in a garage. Where exactly was impossible to say, as the door was down and there were no windows to peer out. Looking around, Ironbird spotted a bicycle hanging on a wall. Curious, he moved closer to get a look at the components.
It was a black and white Kestrel Airfoil with Mavic deep-set wheels, SRAM components, SMG saddle, and a single water cage. There was no doubt about it - it was his bike!
The reality set in instantly, and was confirmed by the ghost's cruel smile. The athletes had been speaking of him! HE weighed over 500 lbs. and was bed-ridden.
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" screamed Ironbird. "Spirit, these things I have seen, are they images of what must be or what might be? Surely they can be changed, else what is the point of showing me? If they can be changed, they will be changed; I will be a new person, Spirit, if only you give me the chance. I will be a training fool again, working hard every day to improve as I can. I will not lose hope, nor the joy of simply being able to do one more day of exercise. I will be whole in mind, body and spirit! I will support all who share my lifestyle. Give me one more chance!"
Ironbird awoke hugging his Garmin running watch. Light streamed in from the window, and without hesitation he tore open the windows and looked out. It was a glorious day; the sun was out, the air was cool, and the breeze light - a perfect day to exercise. Below, a small boy was walking by. It was the same child from Wendy's the night before.
"You there! Boy! Do you like Wendy's?"
"You know that I do!"
"Of course you do, of course you do. Clever boy. Here, take this $20, go buy yourself a #6 and a large frosty. Keep the change!"
"I will, sir! And thank you!" And with that, the boy rushed off for his treasure.
Ironbird wasted no time. His watch told him it was Saturday, and he knew there'd be a race at the lake. Donning his gear, he sprinted out the door, loaded up his car, and sped off to the lake. He raced, and though he didn't place in his age group, it was the best race of his new life (so far).
Ironbird was as good as his word. He became an ambassador for fitness, encouraging all to enjoy a healthy lifestyle. As he was advanced in years, he never got faster - no matter. He remembered in his heart the joy of being able to go out there and do it at all, to enjoy this day, this run, this experience, whatever it was. And as long as he lived, those around him new him to be healthy, happy, and always out there staying fit.
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