Cal stood and stretched his back uttering a groan. Here lately he
had
begun to feel his age plus several more years. Trying to keep up with
the
boys and make a business grow was defiantly not easy. But it was well
worth
it. The business had grown far beyond his dreams. Now he could make
money
with the one thing he had always loved, his bikes. Not just any bikes,
Harleys. The roar of a Harley was unmistakable. They had woven their
magic
around him when he was no older then the boys. And even now, after all
these
years he never simply touched one, but caressed it, like the satin skin
of
the most beautiful woman. It was always hard to see them roll out the
door.
Each one left with a part of him. Apparently the public held the
same
feeling. He had more business than he could handle. Even with ten of
his
closest friends to help with the work they were still behind. He had
just
decided he needed a break when the phone started to ring. Another groan
filled the early morning. Even at this hour the phone was already
starting to
ring.
At almost seven feet, he had to duck to walk through the office
door. At
over 300 hundred pounds and with bright red hair, he stood out. The
tattoos
that covered his arms and the Bandanna that covered his head were a
testament
to his biker ways. Very few people looked past them to see the man
inside.
Sea green eyes narrowed as he remembered the look on their faces when
he
dared to come back to town. They made it known, without a shadow of
doubt,
that he was not welcome, and neither were his boys.
"Highway To Hell Bike Shop" Cal growled as he picked up the phone.
He
heard a deep laugh and a familiar voice on the other end. "Sometimes I
think
you do things to deliberately piss off the town." Jacks voice growled
back.
Cal let out a deep chested laugh and the first smile in days crossed
his
face. He tried his best to make his voice sound innocent as he bantered
back,
"Would I do that?" "Yes you would." Jack countered with a chuckle, "but
that's not why I'm calling. Are you still interested in someone to help
out
with the office work?" "Well, that depends." Cal said thoughtfully.
"Who did
you have in mind?" At that point Jack knew he would have to tread very
carefully. Cal needed to know what he would be getting in to but not
enough
for him to say no right off the bat. "Listen," Jack said "I'll be out
that
way in a bit, how about if I stop in?" Cal's eyebrow shot up and so did
the
hair on his neck. "Of course Jack, you know you're always welcome
here." But
when Cal hung up the phone he had more than a sneaky suspicion that his
old
friend was up to something.
He had met Jack when he was 15. Even then he was well over 6 feet.
Everyone in town knew him and his bike, including the local cops. Jack
was
still a street cop then. Stocky built with iron gray hair, he was often
misjudged. On more than one occasion someone would challenge the old
man and
get their butt whooped for their trouble. But he was always fair and
willing
to put it on the line if he thought it right. Cal for the most part
steered
clear of him. Every now and then however, Jack would catch up to him.
Cal
always felt that if any cop could be trusted, it would be Jack. For
some
reason Jack never seemed to judge him, but took him at his worth. He
knew
Jack had a daughter just a year younger than he himself. He would see
her
around school but never actually talked to her. He always had the
feeling he
wouldn't be welcome to. Then one day Jack did something to forever gain
his
respect and his friendship.
Cal had decided to take a shortcut one day and his bike stalled out
on
him. He was pushing it along an alley when a group of the local
footballs
boys decided to have a little fun. At 8 to one Cal didn't have a fair
shot.
And even though he was head and shoulders taller, they had clubs and
tire
irons. They manage to get in 3 good shots before a flash of silver
caught his
eye. I pipe found its way into his hands and when he glanced beside
him, Jack
was on the other end. "Just thought I'd even things out a little." He
said.
Cal ground out "It's not your fight old man." Jack just stood his
ground.
They both walked away with a few cuts and bruises but between the two
of
them, the other boys had scattered. Even then, Jack didn't ask any
questions.
He just offered his hand. From then on they had built a friendship that
traveled across the gap in their ages and at times the many mile
between them.
Now, although older and a little slower, he still stuck up for the
people
whom he believed in. When his daughter had died Cal thought his old
friend
would soon follow. But in true Jack fashion he finally bounced back.
Retired
and with time on his hands, he started a shelter for the homeless. He
named
it "Bridges", and with gritty determination he made his dream come
alive. Now
he helped people everyday to get back on their feet, off the street and
on
with life. And Cal had a feeling it was one of those from Bridges that
he had
in mind for him. It wasn't that Cal had anything against it; he had
volunteered his time to teach the few who wanted to learn to be
mechanics. He
had helped to build houses and find work for the ones who wanted it.
But this
was different. He didn't have time to teach anyone how to run the
office. He
wasn't real sure he knew how anymore. The desk was piled high and he
had
calls from bill collectors because the invoices had gotten hidden and
forgotten about. He was sure there was something on the computer to
help him
straighten it all out but the only time he had was late at night after
the
shop closed and that was the only time he had to spend with the boys.
At 4
years old they needed more and more time with him.
If only Shae was here. If only she hadn't decided to ride with him
that
day. If only he had seen that truck. There was so many "if only's". The
fact
that he was responsible for the death of his wife would forever haunt
him. He
had finally opened his heart to someone. Finally let himself believe
that
happiness could find it's way into his world. And with a flash it was
all
gone. And now he was left to tell his two sons why they had to grow up
with
no mother; left to live with what he had done. When Shae died, he
understood
what Jack was going through. To lose someone so young and so full of
life. To
never see that smile again.
Cal shook himself and went back to work. Thinking about it only
made it
worse and he had work to do. Just then he looked up to see a flash of
red
come speeding around the corner. It was then he remembered, he had
promised
the boys he would build them a tree house. He had broken that promise
three
times in the last week. With his head bowed he finally admitted defeat
about
the time two sets arms wrapped around his knees and two voices squealed
"Daddy" at the top of their lungs. Two sets of green eyes looked at him
asking a question without ever using their voice. "OK boys, lets go get
started on that tree house." Behind him ten faces cracked into grins as
Cal
let himself be lead out the door. He may have been a rough customer at
one
time but all it took now were two half pints and one word to bring the
big
man to his knees.