Page 59 of Haunt Me

LOW MILEAGE.

RUNS WELL.

HELMET INCLUDED.

The price beneath those words is less than the handbag my mother gave me for graduation.

I circle it once.

The body has a few scratches. One mirror is newer than the other, and the metal basket attached to the back tilts slightly to the left. It isn’t pristine or impressive, but it makes me smile.

"You've been staring at that thing for a solid five minutes."

I turn toward the voice.

A man in grease-streaked coveralls steps out of the open garage bay, wiping his hands on a rag. He’s older than my father, broad-shouldered with a gray beard and reading glasses perched on top of his head.

"I like it."

A corner of his mouth lifts. "You're the first one who has."

"Really?"

He nods toward the scooter. "Most folks come in looking for something bigger. Faster. Black."

"Does it run?"

He gives me a look. "I don't make a habit of selling things that don't."

"That isn't exactly a yes."

Now he smiles.

“Yes. It runs. I put in a new battery, changed the oil, checked the brakes, and gave her a tune-up. She’s not new, though. You can’t treat her like she is.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means don’t ignore noises, don’t skip maintenance, and don’t expect her to enjoy being pushed up the mountain at highway speed.”

“I don’t plan to take her up the mountain at highway speed.”

“Good. She’ll do fine around town.”

I look back toward the motorcycles. “Do I need a special license for this?”

"Nah. Just your regular driver's license." He gestures toward the scooter.

"I don’t have a driver's license."

He winces. "Really?"

“I’ve never needed one.”

He studies me for a beat. "Well." He folds the rag into his back pocket. "That complicates things."

The old Astra would’ve stepped away. She would’ve gone back to the motel, researched every regulation, read reviews, compared models, and made a spreadsheet. She would’ve asked her father whether the scooter was safe and listened while he explained every possible way I might die on it.

She would’ve chosen something more sensible.