Maddie stood under the arch separating living room from dining room, her tail down, her body curving to the left. She growled. "Grrrrrr," a long, low nervous rumble through bared teeth.

I shrugged, leaning back in my seat. "What?"

"Time travel is dangerous," growled Maddie. "I've seen movies, heard stories. There's morlocks and paradoxes and killer robots from the future." She stepped closer and growled again. "Besides, I don't want you running off to the future without me."

"Relax, Maddie," I said, patting the side of the chassis on which I sat. "It's not a time machine."

"Then what is it? What is that... that... thing you're sitting on?"



"It's a bike, Maddie."

"It doesn't look like a bike. There's no wheels." She marched around me, investigating the machine. "How are you planning to ride it around the room without wheels?"

"This is a stationary bike..."

"How is that any different from the bike hanging in the laundry room? That one's been stationary for years."

"Touché. This is an exercise bike. I'm trying to get in better shape, trying to burn off some of these extra calories."

"Where'd it come from?" asked Maddie, circling me. "It kinda smells like a time machine."

"Jennifer got it for me as a Valentine's Day present. It was in that big box that showed up earlier. I just finished putting it together."

"Oh." She sat nearby, looking up at me. "So how's it work?"

I reached down, picked Maddie up and sat her on my lap. "This is a recumbent bike," I explained. "So your legs are more in line with your body as you pedal. See that knob?"

"Yeah. Does that set the date?"

"It's not a time machine."

"If you say so."

"Anyway," I continued. "The whole point is that I can get more exercise. Especially on rainy days, like today."

"Oh, foo! You're never gonna want to take walks now," pouted Maddie.

"Don't you worry. We'll still get out for walks. That is, if this rain ever lets up."