It was the last boring lesson of the week on Saturday afternoon. The teacher was babbling in the classroom. A rain had started outside.

My classmates were moaning about the weather; they did not like the rain. It would ruin the only opportunity in an entire week to do some outdoor sports like soccer or basketball after school.

As the last lesson was drawing to a close, more and more cars were gathering at the school gate. I became anxious, secretly wishing that he would not come today.

My teacher was still talking, yet his words were meaningless and empty. I cast a glance out of the window. He was not out there. Thank Goodness, probably he would not come anyway.

There went the bell. Snatching up my schoolbag, I joined the outgoing horde. Raindrops splattered onto me. Still, I did not see him there. At the school gate many students got into comfy cars waiting there for them. Engine drone and horn blare drowned my thought.

“Son!” A familiar voice woke me up from my reverie. Oh no! He was coming up the pavement. There was a tattered umbrella in his hand, his rickety bike nearby. He was smiling, but I did not feel good.

“I’m sorry I am late, son. Come and I will take you home on the bike,” he said warmly. Black limousines were streaming past us. I felt that the schoolmates in them must despise me.

He seemed to sense something when he did not get an immediate response. After a while, handing me a five-yuan note, he said, “Son, actually I have something urgent to see to right now. Could you go home on your own? OK?”

I nodded. He walked back to the bike, got on it and rode away. Cars were driving by, horns blaring.

It was not long before he went out of sight. Tears filled my eyes. I turned around and took a long look at the place where his bike had been. A rainbow blurred my vision.