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Once I remove the tarp off his chopper, there’ll be no pretending anymore, no running, no ignoring. I do it anyway, kicking up a cloud of dust to reveal his pride and joy, the bike he bought when he turned eighteen and lovingly worked on probably until the day he died. The sunlight streaming in from outside hits it just so, making the chrome parts gleam like liquid gold and yes, I miss my dad. Miss him as bad as I did when I was ten years old and my mother dragged me to live in another man’s house two towns away. But back then I could come back here and I did. Now I’m here and he’s not. And never will be.
A faint sound of a Harley sounds outside, and I’m sure it’s just in my head. My dad’s last ride, that kind of thing. Fitting, I guess. But damn sad too.
The thundery rumbling grows louder and louder the harder I try to ignore it. Until it stops right by the curb behind me. And for a split second I almost believe this is all just a sick joke and my dad’s come home.
Only, of course it’s not.
The man takes off his helmet and grins at me. It’s Eagle, my one time childhood best friend.
“I heard you were back, Ash,” he says. And there’s no reason he should’ve heard it, since I haven’t spoken to him in years. Unless my dad’s MC, the MC Eagle now clearly belongs to, has been keeping tabs on me.
His cut proclaims him to be an enforcer and I’m sure I know what’s on the back—the Devil’s Nightmare MC club colors, the same that my dad wore. It’s a bitter sweet reminder.
“It’s been a long time, Eagle,” I say after clearing my throat. “How’s it going?”
He nods his head as he approaches the open garage door, but doesn’t say anything until he’s standing right in front of me.
“I was sorry to hear about your father,” he says, extending his hand. “My condolences.”
I thank him as I shake his hand after having to clear my throat again.
“How’d he die, anyway?” I ask. My mom was told he’d been stabbed in a bar fight. But my dad wasn’t one for bar fights. Or one for losing them if it came to it. I’m sure they didn’t tell her the whole story. Club business. They don’t share information with just anyone.
Eagle seems to read me thinking all that in my face, because he’s nodding again.
“Cross sent me,” he finally says. “You know, the MC president? He wants to explain it all to you personally.”
I know I’m supposed to be impressed that the MC president wants to do that, but I’m having trouble focusing on anything beyond the fact that we’re talking about my father’s death.
“He’s the one that told you I was back in town?” I ask.
Eagle nods again and shrugs. “Should we go now?”
He points at the bike behind me. “That baby must be dying to go for a ride.”
I glance back over my shoulder. I am dying to try out the bike. It’s the only dying wish I can still grant my father—to ride his bike and love it the way he did—unless I also dig up his grave and get to the ashes.
“I have a thing tonight,” I say. “But tomorrow…”
He looks disappointed but nods again anyway. “So you also don’t have time to go for a drink…you know to catch up?”
I want to say yes. Blow off my mother and her family dinner, where everything will be just perfect except it won’t. I always wanted to just live like my father did. Free and carefree. But she and my brother are suddenly the only family I got left.
“I’ll see how it goes at my mother’s,” I say instead. “You still have the same phone number?”
He laughs harshly. “The same number I had five years ago? No way, man.”
“Has it been five years?” I ask, not even sure why. I know full well I haven’t spoken to Eagle since I enlisted. The shit we got up to, drugs, booze, girls and worse is the main reason my father made me join the Marines. Those years seem so far away now. Yet so close. For the first time in five years, I wish I never left.
I think maybe he’s thinking the same thing as he nods and we exchange numbers.
“And if you can’t make it tonight, then I’ll pick you up at say eleven-ish so we can go see Cross?”
I’m sure I can find my way up to the MC HQ on top of Resolution Hill, but Eagle seems eager to escort me there and it’s the least I can do to agree to it. I didn’t do right by my best friend, and I didn’t do right by father in the end. And it weighs heavy.
