by Rhea Wilde
“Maybe. I know how to take care of myself. Things worked out for the best I’d say. I’m sorry about your leg and that scrape on your arm.”
“No. Don’t worry about it… I’m fine.”
“And I’m fine, too. Nothing to worry about.”
He winked at me with a friendly smile. I nodded back to him before he turned his attention back to the engine block on the ground.
“You have a car?” he asked.
“Me? No, I don’t really need one.”
“Motorcycle? A chopper?”
“Do I look like that kind of woman?”
“No, but you never know until you ask.”
“No. No chopper. No motorcycle. Not in any biker gangs or motorcycle clubs. Why do you ask?”
“I thought maybe you could bring your car over here and let me work on it. That could be your way of thanking me.”
“Sorry, can’t help you. But what I can do is refer some people to you. I can tell people about the best mechanic in the city.”
“All right. That’s what I’m talking about, Sheila. I’m sure you’ll give me some good publicity.”
“From the looks of things, I don’t think you need any more. You’ve got your hands full as it is.”
“Yeah, I do. But the work always gets done. Sometimes people have to wait a little longer but I’ll always need something to do.”
“How did you get into this anyway?”
“Get into what?”
“This. Being a mechanic and everything.”
“Oh, that.”
He started to laugh to himself even though I couldn’t figure out what was funny about it.
“Do you want the whole story?” he asked.
“As much as you’re willing to tell me. I’m willing to listen.”
“All right,” he grunted.
He muscled the wrench over the engine block, loosening screws while he nonchalantly continued his story.
“I guess it started when I was a kid. My friends and I would take things apart to see how they worked and put’em back together. We used to have contests. We’d purposely break things and see if they still worked after we fixed’em.”
“How do you make something work after you break it?”
“That was the contest. Most of the time I’d get it to work again. Every now and then I’d go a little too far. It was all a big learning experience though. Just a dumb kid trying to figure things out.”
“And you did that with cars? Motorcycles?”
“We started with electronics. Computers mostly. I… I had access to them. But when I got older, I lived next to a junkyard. You wouldn’t believe some of the things you’d find. You know how they say one man’s trash is another man’s treasure?”
I nodded.
“It’s never been more true about a junkyard. People scrap entire cars just because one little thing is broken. You could build your own car for a fraction of the cost of a new one just by getting some scrap.”
“You make it sound so simple. Building your own car.”
“It is,” he said with a laugh. “Maybe I should start a business. Build new cars from old parts and sell them like they’re brand new.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“All right. You’re in. You’re the first investor, Sheila. I’m gonna need a lot of money from you to get started.”
“Yeah. Right.”
I laughed at the absurdity of it. It seemed like there was always a reminder I was desperately in need of some cash. For some strange reason, I was disappointed I didn’t have any to help him out. It wasn’t just that Noah had helped me out and I owed him that much. There was something else. Something about him just made me want to be there.
I stared at him as he continued to fiddle with the engine. It looked like brain surgery from where I sat. I didn’t say anything. I just watched him. After a few minutes had gone by, Noah finally broke the silence.
“Listen,” he said as he stood up. “I’m happy you came by to say hello. I appreciate the company. It gets kinda lonely in here sometimes and Lou doesn’t like visitors.”
“It’s no trouble. I… I’m glad I came. It’s interesting.”
He walked toward me and stood in front of me. I noticed just how much he was sweating. The sweat gave his tan skin a glow that made his biceps seem to bulge even larger than when I first noticed them.
Don’t stare, Sheila.
I turned my head up and stared into his eyes. Not that it was much easier but it helped hide any indication that I might have been gawking at him.
“I’ve got a lot of work to do,” he said.
“Oh. No. You don’t have to explain. I get it. I—”
“I really do want to talk to you though. How about tonight?”
“Tonight?”
“Yeah. Meet me tonight. Maybe we can have a drink.”
“I…
“What’s wrong? I know you drink.”
“It’s not that. It’s just—”
“You have work tomorrow? Call in sick.”
I didn’t need to call in sick. Marie had already told me to take a few days off and she would have kicked me out of the shelter on sight.
I scratched the side of my head underneath my hair as if it would help my brain come up with the right answer. There was only one right answer.
What am I doing?
“A drink,” I said with a shrug. “Sure. Why not?”
“Great! I know this place. Why don’t you meet me back here at the shop and I’ll walk you over there? I should be done around 10. Does that work?”
“Mmm-hmm,” I mumbled through pursed lips.
I nodded to him, not sure of what to make of his invitation. But I’d already accepted and I couldn’t refuse him now.
“Okay.”
I slowly stood up from my chair with him right before me. I looked up at him and was reminded of just how tall he was. I took him in for a few seconds before I finally broke our stare.
“I’ll see you then,” I said as I looked down at the ground.
“I’ll be here.”
As I made my way out of the garage, I turned around one last time to get a look at him. He was already crouched down in front of the engine block and back to it. The sound of him whistling filled my ears as I finally left him by himself.
Chapter 6
“I’m not much of a drinker.”
I stood in the cooling humidity of the night. The sun had gone down and the moon was out, but the city was still alive. For the people on Underwood, the day was just getting started.
“Oh, well, we don’t really have to get a drink if you don’t want to.”
Noah had his back turned to me as he closed the locks on the garage and chained everything down. He hadn’t changed his outfit. Most of the grease had been cleaned off and the sweat was gone, so it was harder to tell he’d been working all day. His clothes were stained enough to let you know he’d been doing some kind of dirty work though.
“No, it’s all right,” I said. “What I meant was I don’t go out to drink very often.”
“Why’s that? No time? No company?”
“Both. I’ve… I’ve got priorities that don’t really give me a chance to drink. I can’t really be putting myself in situations where I’m drunk. I’m sure you understand.”
Noah glanced down at my injury on my arm.
“I get it,” he said.
“It’s not a big deal though. I suppose I can make an exception tonight. I don’t have work tomorrow. And I’ll try to do a better job of staying out of trouble tonight.”
“I’ll stick by your side tonight. I’m pretty sure nobody is gonna try anything. Shall we?”
I nodded then walked with him down the street. All of the noise on Underwood that I’d heard just a few hours ago hadn’t gone away. Men were shouting incoherently. Engines revved. The sound and smell of exhaust continued to linger in the air. It was a wild scene. I didn’t feel uneasy about any of it though. Walking next to Noah reminded me
of just how much taller and bigger he was.
“So, did you get any work done?” I asked.
“I got a lot of work done. When I’m in the garage, I’m focused. There really isn’t much else to do. And I enjoy it.”
“You know what you need? A radio.”
“A radio?”
“Or a stereo. An iPod. Some kind of music. I saw Lou had all kinds of MP3 players back in his shop. I heard you whistling—”
“Was my whistling that bad?”
“No,” I said as I shook my head. “It just made me realize how quiet it was in that garage.”
“Yeah, maybe you’ve got a point. Some music wouldn’t hurt.”
“Exactly!”
“What kind of music do you listen to?”
Even though we were talking about it, I was caught off-guard by the question.
“W-what? Me?”
“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “You listen to music, don’t you?”
“Yeah, it’s just—”
“So, what do you listen to?”
He shrugged his shoulders at me, waiting for a response. It was a harmless question. The answer didn’t come so easy to me though. I looked at his face and wondered if he would have any idea who I was talking about.
“I listen to a lot of… older stuff…” I started.
“Okay. What kind of older stuff?”
“You know… Stuff from the 90s… Early 2000s…”
Back when I was your age…
“Okay…”
His words trailed off. The confusion on his face hadn’t gone away. I looked down at the pavement in embarrassment. I didn’t want to think about how old I was standing next to him. But he continued to give me more reminders.
“I kind of listen to it all these days,” he said. “I don’t really have a preference. When I served, we all had to share a radio. Everybody had different tastes. One guy would play country. The next guy would play classical. Some guy would play rap music. We had a guy who had his own band and he’d play it for all of us. I even got used to that.”
“You served?”
I was surprised at first but considering I didn’t know much about him, I shouldn’t have been. I wondered how someone as young as him could have done so. I didn’t dare ask him outright.
“Yeah,” he answered. “Not long though. Got a medical discharge.”
I didn’t pry any further. I just kept my head down and kept walking along with him. We remained silent. The city was loud enough to accompany us on our journey. Before I knew it, we had arrived at our destination.
“Here we are,” he said.
I looked up at the sign and saw the neon display hanging above me.
“Welcome to Fresco. You ever been here before?”
“No, I… I can’t say that I have.”
The only time I’d gone out to a bar in the last few years was with Max just last night. I was too old for this.
What am I doing?
I had been going along with this for so long I hadn’t realized what I was getting into. I wasn’t going into a bar with my contemporaries. I was going into a bar with a past I had grown out of a long time ago.
Before my reservations could stop me from making any better judgments for my own dignity, Noah placed a hand on the small of my back and guided me inside.
“Right this way,” he whispered.
As soon as I stepped inside, I was greeted with a sight I wasn’t ready for. It was like Underwood except indoors, condensed inside of a bar. Smoke filled the air. The music was drowned out by the loud conversations happening at every corner.
And the patrons… Every single one of them looked like they had an interesting story. It wasn’t just bikers. There were guys who looked like drug dealers, pimps and the same kind of thugs who attacked me last night. And then there were actual cops who looked like they enjoyed arresting those types of men. The women were all dressed like they were trying to take someone home. Even some of the older women looked like they didn’t know what the word ‘modest’ meant.
It was overwhelming. I limped a step forward and Noah caught my hand.
“This way,” he said.
He smiled at me. I was in disbelief about everything that was happening. But Noah didn’t give me a chance to breathe. He guided me through the crowded bar to a corner table that seemed distant from everybody else.
“Just give me a second,” he assured me. “I’ll be right back.”
I wanted to squeeze his hand and keep him from leaving me alone in the bar. He disappeared in a flash among the crowd and left me to contemplate my strange surroundings. I did my best not to make eye contact with anybody.
If anybody says anything to you, just say you’re lost and leave.
Before I had to resort to anything, Noah returned with a few beers in his hands. He placed the bottles down on the table then took a seat in front of me. A bottle got shoved right to me while Noah held up his own bottle.
“We should toast,” he said. “What should we toast to?”
“How about an enjoyable but uneventful night?”
His mouth opened as he laughed at me. Noah’s charming smile seemed out of place in a bar like this. It was reassuring to see and for a moment I’d forgotten where I was.
“All right,” he said with a nod. “To an enjoyable but uneventful night.”
I tapped my bottle to his and took a sip. Before I’d even had a chance to swallow it down, I noticed a group of men slowly creeping behind Noah at our table. I glanced up at them but quickly turned away, trying not to draw their attention. But it was clear they had their eyes on our table.
“Well, look who it is,” the man said. “I didn’t think I’d see you around here.”
I looked up at the man while Noah turned around and did the same.
He was a younger man. Maybe in his early-20s. He was blond, the sides of his head shaved and the top of his hair slicked back neatly on top of his head in one whole part. Tattoos adorned his arms and trailed all the way to his exposed, muscled chest. That’s because he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Instead, it was a leather vest with all kinds of patches to match the tattoos. Even though he was somewhat of a good-looking man, his demeanor didn’t seem to match. His brow was furrowed and his mouth looked like it had a permanent scowl. He probably hadn’t shaved in a few days but I couldn’t imagine a man like him took too much time to properly groom himself.
The men who stood behind him didn’t look much different. They wore similar outfits and from this distance, their colorful tattoos were just as incoherent.
“King,” Noah said as he slowly stood up from his chair. “I knew it was you without even looking. I could smell you from a mile away.”
“Noah…” I whispered.
I held my hand out as I said it. It didn’t matter. I could’ve shouted it out and nobody would have heard me in the bar.
Noah and the man stood in front of one another, staring hard into each other’s eyes. An uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach started to grow. I swallowed and my insides began to twist. I’d barely taken a sip and already something was beginning to happen.
Can’t I just go out one night without getting involved in something?
“You know what that smell is?” the man said to Noah. “It’s the smell of a real man. You wouldn’t know a thing about that.”
“Oh, I suppose I wouldn’t,” Noah responded as he glanced at all of the other men. “A bunch of guys dressed in leather, riding motorcycles and spending time with each other. I’m sure you all know exactly what each other smells like. You must get real close and smell each other a lot.”
“Yeah,” the man said with a laugh. “You would be the kind of man who says something like that. Always talking about how another man smells.”
“Why don’t we step outside and I’ll show you the kind of man that I am?”
Noah clenched his jaw. I looked down and saw his hand balled into a fist. I sank back into my seat, wanting to do something but compl
etely unable to move. What could I possibly do? There was nothing I could even say. They were going to go at it right here and right now.
“Make the first move,” the man said. “Go ahead. I’ll let you.”
It felt like an eternity. I sat there and waited for the inevitable. But just before I succumbed to my worst fears, the two men suddenly burst into laughter along with everybody else. Noah and the man shook hands and hugged liked they’d known each other for years.
“Where have you been?” the man said.
“Work. I’ve been busy.”
“You can’t be that busy. How long does it take to have a beer or two? We still owe you, you know.”
“You and your club give me a lot of business. You don’t owe me anything.”
Noah finally turned and looked at me.
“This is King,” he said to me. “President of the Heaven’s Havoc motorcycle club.”
“The only crew in New Gardens that matters,” King said. “You got yourself a new friend, eh?”
“She’s my only friend,” Noah said.
“Don’t let him fool you,” King said to me. “Noah brings a lot of his friends here. Eliza’s looking for you.”
“Shut up! I come here by myself. Sometimes people come to bother me.”
“If you say so.”
King and his crew all laughed together with a jovial attitude I couldn’t have imagined just a few seconds ago. King turned and looked at me like he was examining me.
“You’re not like the rest of them though,” he said. “You look like you’ve got a little more class. Enjoy yourself.”
He patted Noah on his chest before leaving with the rest of his crew. Noah took a seat back down and I sighed in relief, not realizing I had been practically holding my breath this entire time.
“What was that all about?” I asked.
“King’s a good guy,” he said. “I help his crew out with their choppers from time to time. He trusts me. Not really much to it.”
“And was that about your friends? This Eliza?”
“What? Oh, that.”
Noah took a sip of his beer and gulped it down before responding.
“Sometimes I come here after work to get a drink. Women come here and have a seat. They approach me. They, uh… They’re just looking for a good time, that’s all.”
