Riding the Bike

I tried to recall the mental state I had achieved when I was on the roof. I was patient, but all I could pick up was the low background murmur of the neutral emotions of people going about their normal day. I felt better about having checked, though. Now I could relax with a clear conscience.

I was on the couch with a magazine when Neeka came in. She had a shiny object in her hand.

"Whacha got there?" I asked, as she dropped onto the couch next to me.

She held out a new key. "Your mom gave me a key to the house," she said. "She said since you and I were going to be partners, that I needed one so I could come and go as I pleased. Then she kissed me and said, 'Take care of her'."

"Oh. Did she say anything about the Kung Fu lessons?"

"No. When and where?"

I told her about the lessons and where they were being taught. She suggested that she drive us over there and then drive us home after so we would have time to practice afterwards.

"That's good," I said. "We'll need to practice if we're going to be any good at this. Oh, I almost forgot — I need you to help me move the motorcycle. There will be some work going on in the workshop this week and I'd like to get it out of the way."

"And out of sight," Neeka said. "If you want to have a private life, you don't want everyone to know whose bike that is. Where can we hide it?"

"The back of the garage. We can go out here around through the yard."

We went out through the glass doors into the yard. Going around the retaining wall and up the hill took us to the outside door of the workshop and Neeka opened it with her new key. I showed her the mats I had laid out on the floor and we practiced sparring and tumbling for a few minutes. Then I got the key to the motorcycle out of the cabinet and gave it to her.

"Do you want to go for a ride?" she asked.

"More than anything," I said, trying to psych myself into it. "But I think we need to wait until dark before we go cruising and I'd rather not do that until we have the tag. Sheriff Foster said he would register it to the department. That way if anyone checks the tag, they will leave us alone."

"OK, but we can at least ride it around to the garage. It's too big to just push that far."

I thought I could probably carry the thing that far if I had to, but Neeka was obviously excited about getting on the bike.

"All right," I said. "But just to the garage. And take it easy, OK?"

We pushed the big machine out the door onto the concrete apron. The door swung shut behind us and I heard it latch. The bike looked even better in the sunlight than it had inside. All the gleaming chrome and shiny black paint on a machine with such a huge engine and massive exhaust pipes was really an impressive sight. Neeka swung onto the seat and put the key in the hole. I climbed on behind her and put my hands on her waist.

When she turned the key and the big machine started up, I had the same feeling of terror and excitement shoot through me as before. Out here in the open, the sound did not seem as loud. It was more a deep thrum noise than a roar. Still, the vibrations seemed to be most intense in the sensitive parts of my body. It felt like my nipples were resonating with the sound.

Neeka turned her head around and said in a loud voice, "Hold on tight."

I did not have time to answer before she put the bike in gear, gunned the engine and swung it around the corner and down the tree-lined driveway. On the short straightaway, she accelerated sharply, almost losing me off the back of the seat. We swung out into the cul-de-sac and around in front of the house and up the main drive in a flash. Before I had time to take a breath, she had it coasting by Bambi's car and into the garage.

When she turned off the motor, I hopped off immediately. She sat on the bike and grinned at me.

"Holy shit!" I said, with a distinct quaver in my voice. I wanted to say something else, but nothing else came to mind.

"First time on a big bike?" Neeka asked.

"First time on any bike," I admitted. "Are they all that... that... quick?"

"No way. This one has more power and far more torque than anything I've ridden before. I can't wait to get this out on the road. I bet it goes like a bat out of hell! And it's so quiet. Those pipes can't be stock."

It seemed that Neeka and the bike were made for each other. I wanted to drive the bike, too; but not anytime real soon — say sometime next century. Maybe with some more time as a passenger I would get more comfortable on it. Maybe a pig would fly over the house later, too.

"It sounds plenty loud to me." I said.

"Oh, you have no idea! A bike with a motor this size usually makes enough ear-ripping noise that everyone for blocks around can hear it. This is almost silent compared to them. Those big exhaust pipes are really glass-pack mufflers all the way. This whole thing is custom from the ground up. See the air-shocks on the swing-arm? They give it a nice soft ride. The windscreen and fairings keep you from getting cold from the wind blowing on you all the time. These also make it more aerodynamic. See the way it curves around the front? It keeps the bugs off you too."