This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
Torquere Press Publishers
P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770.
Bus Stories Copyright 2003 by Sean Michael
Cover illustration by BSClay
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-61040-872-1
www.torquerepress.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. LLC, P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770
Second Torquere Press Printing: February 2015
Printed in the USA
Beginning to Believe
By Sean Michael
Chapter One
Tyler whistled along to the Eagles on KFOX, hands full of grease as he cleaned out the engine on a ‘59 Triumph TR6. She hadn’t been well treated, but with a whole lot of TLC, she was coming along nicely. Maybe too nicely to sell.
He interrupted his whistling to chuckle. He was going to go broke if he kept keeping the beauties. He had the front and back doors open, a nice breeze coming in off the ocean, keeping the place cool.
As the chorus of the song came on, he sang along with it. “Take it easy... take it easy....”
He made it to the end of the chorus when he heard someone clear his throat. He looked up at a guy in jeans and a t-shirt, eyes shadowed by a ball cap. Dude looked clean-cut as hell, little brown beard and moustache trimmed, no hair peeking from the hat. “Evenin’. Jim at the Kawasaki dealership said I should come here and ask for a Tyler if I had questions about a bike.”
“Well, cool, I’ll have to thank him for the referral.” He got up and grabbed the rag out of his pocket, rubbing off some of the grease. “I’m Tyler. What can I do you for?”
“Kit.” He got a nod, the voice surprisingly southern, classy. “Pleased to meet you. I’m hunting a bike that is damned stable, that doesn’t fall over easily.”
“You looking for a particular brand, or just the stability factor?”
“Just the stability, really.” Kit shrugged and gave him a grin. “It’s just something I’ve always wanted -- a motorcycle, that is -- and I figured I’d see what my options are.”
He nodded, impressed. Most guys came in and didn’t like to admit they needed help and knew nothing about bikes. “Well a low-rider might be your best bet. Stable ride, you don’t have to perform a high jump to get on it. Most bikes made these days though are pretty solid -- not like the classics -- as long as you don’t try and take corners too fast, you’re fine.”
“No high jumping is a good plan.” The low laughter was soft, sort of wry. “And how about special modifications? Do you know anyone who does custom work on bikes?”
He grinned. “Well, Kit. You just happen to be talking to someone who can help you with that kind of thing. I can tear ‘em down, build ‘em back up, add to ‘em, subtract from ‘em. You want a VCR and TV installed? I’ll make you sign a waiver, but I’ll do it for you.”
That earned him another laugh and the man pushed himself away from the wall, moving toward him with a stiff, unnatural gait. “Sounds like you might be my man, Tyler. Can I see some examples of your work?”
“Oh, I am always ready to show off my beauties. How much time have you got? ‘Cause there’s the five cent tour and then there’s the grand tour, but I have to warn you now -- you get me started and it takes a strong incentive to stop me again.”
“I got time.” Kit nodded. “I like to know the people I do business with, know what I’m spending my money for.”
“That’s a good old-fashioned sense of business that’s sadly lacking these days.” Tyler figured his hands were about as clean as they’d get, so he pocketed the
Torquere Press Publishers
P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770.
Bus Stories Copyright 2003 by Sean Michael
Cover illustration by BSClay
Published with permission
ISBN: 978-1-61040-872-1
www.torquerepress.com
All rights reserved, which includes the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever except as provided by the U.S. Copyright Law. For information address Torquere Press. LLC, P.O. Box 37, Waldo, AR 71770
Second Torquere Press Printing: February 2015
Printed in the USA
Beginning to Believe
By Sean Michael
Chapter One
Tyler whistled along to the Eagles on KFOX, hands full of grease as he cleaned out the engine on a ‘59 Triumph TR6. She hadn’t been well treated, but with a whole lot of TLC, she was coming along nicely. Maybe too nicely to sell.
He interrupted his whistling to chuckle. He was going to go broke if he kept keeping the beauties. He had the front and back doors open, a nice breeze coming in off the ocean, keeping the place cool.
As the chorus of the song came on, he sang along with it. “Take it easy... take it easy....”
He made it to the end of the chorus when he heard someone clear his throat. He looked up at a guy in jeans and a t-shirt, eyes shadowed by a ball cap. Dude looked clean-cut as hell, little brown beard and moustache trimmed, no hair peeking from the hat. “Evenin’. Jim at the Kawasaki dealership said I should come here and ask for a Tyler if I had questions about a bike.”
“Well, cool, I’ll have to thank him for the referral.” He got up and grabbed the rag out of his pocket, rubbing off some of the grease. “I’m Tyler. What can I do you for?”
“Kit.” He got a nod, the voice surprisingly southern, classy. “Pleased to meet you. I’m hunting a bike that is damned stable, that doesn’t fall over easily.”
“You looking for a particular brand, or just the stability factor?”
“Just the stability, really.” Kit shrugged and gave him a grin. “It’s just something I’ve always wanted -- a motorcycle, that is -- and I figured I’d see what my options are.”
He nodded, impressed. Most guys came in and didn’t like to admit they needed help and knew nothing about bikes. “Well a low-rider might be your best bet. Stable ride, you don’t have to perform a high jump to get on it. Most bikes made these days though are pretty solid -- not like the classics -- as long as you don’t try and take corners too fast, you’re fine.”
“No high jumping is a good plan.” The low laughter was soft, sort of wry. “And how about special modifications? Do you know anyone who does custom work on bikes?”
He grinned. “Well, Kit. You just happen to be talking to someone who can help you with that kind of thing. I can tear ‘em down, build ‘em back up, add to ‘em, subtract from ‘em. You want a VCR and TV installed? I’ll make you sign a waiver, but I’ll do it for you.”
That earned him another laugh and the man pushed himself away from the wall, moving toward him with a stiff, unnatural gait. “Sounds like you might be my man, Tyler. Can I see some examples of your work?”
“Oh, I am always ready to show off my beauties. How much time have you got? ‘Cause there’s the five cent tour and then there’s the grand tour, but I have to warn you now -- you get me started and it takes a strong incentive to stop me again.”
“I got time.” Kit nodded. “I like to know the people I do business with, know what I’m spending my money for.”
“That’s a good old-fashioned sense of business that’s sadly lacking these days.” Tyler figured his hands were about as clean as they’d get, so he pocketed the
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