staring around the great expanse of the room, dreading the thought of having to move again. I thought I could be happy here, or at least content. Bones had the right idea. Starting over. No regrets, no looking back. Well, I had one regret, but at the moment, it didn’t have a huge impact on me. I would be disappointed not to be able to continue seeing Kathy. Not that I could in any way define us as a couple, nor did I want to. Nevertheless, she was one of the nicest girls I’d met since I relocated to Denver. It would’ve been nice getting to know her a little better.
I was still a bit surprised that she had agreed to go out with me again, especially after the yokel on the bike had called out my name and waved, then the added threat of the finger gun. Should I have told her the truth then and there? That I had been a member of that gang? I knew for some, that knowledge would be a deal breaker. Her reaction to the bikers was typical of many people who gave motorcycle groups a wide berth. Understandable, really.
Most bikers were normal, average, everyday people. Yes, there were bad apples in the bunch. Put a bunch of bad apples into a barrel and you had a fucking mess. The same applied to any large group of individuals looking for the same thing. Hence the birth of dozens upon dozens of motorcycle gangs, and hundreds or even thousands or more street gangs around the country and across the globe.
I had been young, foolish, and full of angst when I came out west and first became a member of the Biker Boys. With them, I had gained a sense of acceptance I had never felt with my own family. But not anymore. Now, belonging to the group just seemed lame. No… dangerous. Especially with the direction they were heading. I wanted no part of that.
I sat down on my bed, staring around the loft. No longer raw, no longer cool. In fact, it was rather sorry-looking. I couldn’t understand exactly when my frame of mind had changed. What had propelled me to leave home in the first place? I tried to tell myself it was wanderlust. Boredom. Annoyance with my parents. But I knew the truth. I had tried to run from my guilt. I knew on a subliminal level, and always had, that belonging to the gang was a nonproductive endeavor. But I had stayed. Where else did I have to go?
I was getting too old for that kind of shit, that kind of juvenile behavior. Yes, there were members in the Biker Boys who were in their thirties, forties, and even fifties, but I didn’t want to end up like that. A fifty-year-old man trying to hang onto his youth? Someone that passersby looked at, snickered, and muttered “loser” under their breath about? Not for me. Not that I had ever given a shit what other people thought, but I was beginning to feel the same way.
Enough.
I rose from the bed and began to sort through some more of my stuff. I made a keep pile, a throwaway pile, and a giveaway pile. I was looking forward to my afternoon and evening with Kathy. A nice change of pace. Nothing serious, just an afternoon doing something that I hadn’t done in a long time. The weather was fantastic. Maybe I’d take the bike west on the I-70 past Golden, up into the hills. Maybe we would even go as far as Aspen. From what Kathy had told me, it sounded like she had been kept pretty busy since arriving here. I didn’t think she’d had a chance to visit some of the mountain communities.
This time of year they would be filled with tourists. The air would be rich with the smell of pine. The sky would be deep blue, nearly cloudless, and the mountain air would be cooler than down here. As I sorted through my stuff, I realized I was smiling. It felt good. While I still hadn’t decided what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go, I felt better. A little less unsettled. Just making a few small decisions had given me the desire to make a few more. Kathy had goals. Why shouldn’t I? I thought her choice of profession was quite admirable. A veterinarian. I had never dated a
I was still a bit surprised that she had agreed to go out with me again, especially after the yokel on the bike had called out my name and waved, then the added threat of the finger gun. Should I have told her the truth then and there? That I had been a member of that gang? I knew for some, that knowledge would be a deal breaker. Her reaction to the bikers was typical of many people who gave motorcycle groups a wide berth. Understandable, really.
Most bikers were normal, average, everyday people. Yes, there were bad apples in the bunch. Put a bunch of bad apples into a barrel and you had a fucking mess. The same applied to any large group of individuals looking for the same thing. Hence the birth of dozens upon dozens of motorcycle gangs, and hundreds or even thousands or more street gangs around the country and across the globe.
I had been young, foolish, and full of angst when I came out west and first became a member of the Biker Boys. With them, I had gained a sense of acceptance I had never felt with my own family. But not anymore. Now, belonging to the group just seemed lame. No… dangerous. Especially with the direction they were heading. I wanted no part of that.
I sat down on my bed, staring around the loft. No longer raw, no longer cool. In fact, it was rather sorry-looking. I couldn’t understand exactly when my frame of mind had changed. What had propelled me to leave home in the first place? I tried to tell myself it was wanderlust. Boredom. Annoyance with my parents. But I knew the truth. I had tried to run from my guilt. I knew on a subliminal level, and always had, that belonging to the gang was a nonproductive endeavor. But I had stayed. Where else did I have to go?
I was getting too old for that kind of shit, that kind of juvenile behavior. Yes, there were members in the Biker Boys who were in their thirties, forties, and even fifties, but I didn’t want to end up like that. A fifty-year-old man trying to hang onto his youth? Someone that passersby looked at, snickered, and muttered “loser” under their breath about? Not for me. Not that I had ever given a shit what other people thought, but I was beginning to feel the same way.
Enough.
I rose from the bed and began to sort through some more of my stuff. I made a keep pile, a throwaway pile, and a giveaway pile. I was looking forward to my afternoon and evening with Kathy. A nice change of pace. Nothing serious, just an afternoon doing something that I hadn’t done in a long time. The weather was fantastic. Maybe I’d take the bike west on the I-70 past Golden, up into the hills. Maybe we would even go as far as Aspen. From what Kathy had told me, it sounded like she had been kept pretty busy since arriving here. I didn’t think she’d had a chance to visit some of the mountain communities.
This time of year they would be filled with tourists. The air would be rich with the smell of pine. The sky would be deep blue, nearly cloudless, and the mountain air would be cooler than down here. As I sorted through my stuff, I realized I was smiling. It felt good. While I still hadn’t decided what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go, I felt better. A little less unsettled. Just making a few small decisions had given me the desire to make a few more. Kathy had goals. Why shouldn’t I? I thought her choice of profession was quite admirable. A veterinarian. I had never dated a
Similar Books
