It was not very long before a new bike arrived. I don't remember how or when or if I named it. I just know it was a cool single speed, coaster brake with a front brake for some reason and that I got a grease stain on my new pants purchased especially for my First Communion. My mom was thoroughly unhappy about that and managed to remove said stain.
At some point along the way between riding the bike to my friends' houses, the park, the library, the candy store, the drug store, the ice cream shop...well, you get the idea...I opened "John's Bicycle Garage" in spite of the fact that I had no clue about how to fix a bike but I did learn how to keep a bike clean, remove all manner of rust and grime and oil a chain. I even experimented with tightening the front brake cable of my bike to point of being able to lock up the wheel and not flip over the handle bars. My bike was the envy of the neighborhood until Steve got a similar style bike with a 3-speed top tube shifter and much like my jealousy, his bike was green. We all thought it was the coolest thing ever. He even let us all try it. Once. That was it.