Page 47 of Savior
A large part of me resents myself for not being able to repair her original form, to her former glory. Motorcycles aren’t a hobby to me. They’re a passion. And passion, means keeping your old motorcycle running.
Now, I stand leaning back against my work bench, arms crossed and gripping my own jaw with one hand. I glance between the boxes of unsalvageable broken parts of her original form, and the gorgeous, heavily modified, black murdered out motorcycle, standing before me under the lights of my shop.
The last time I actually rode this motorcycle, was the day I brought it home from Harley Davidson’s lot to dismantle a few months ago… And she wasn’t Serene.
Like a mad scientist, I repaired and swapped out anything that was salvageable from Serene’s original body, onto this brand-new bike I purchased with the insurance money and some cash I had saved from the death match I fought in Myrtle Beach last summer. I even managed to repair a good portion of her original 131 cubic inch V-twin engine, blending it with the new one. Serene has the biggest street legal engine Harley Davidson has ever put out.
Viking told me I was insane… That I should just call the bike by her name and hope that it takes in my fucked-up brain.
In the end, though, I was afraid to risk it. The engine, after all, is the heart of a motorcycle.
Is it you? I stare anxiously at the modified bike before me. I recognize aspects of my original Serene. She looks like an updated cross between a Street Glide Special and a Night Rod… Still a bad ass bitch… But… Is it you, baby? Did you come back to me?
Twisting my wrist, I glance at my watch. Vanna has an appointment this evening to go over her blood work. I should expect her home a half hour or so late. I have time to take this lady for a spin before the sun sets. There’s nothing more I can possibly do to her at this point, to make her more… Serene. She’s either come back to me, or she’s lost forever. There’s no in-between.
I drop my arms, pushing away from the work bench and take a few steps towards the bike. Circling her slowly as I take in the lines and curves of her body, I anxiously drag a hand through my hair and release the breath I’ve been holding.
Lowering my hand to grip one of her handles in my fist, I hold onto her, hoping to be hit with some kind of feeling that it is her. That I’ve succeeded in resurrecting my sweet Serene… But I know, the only way to really know, is to bring her to life beneath me.
Reaching over to grip the other handle bar, I sling my leg over her seat and mount her, settling down on her new black seat. Staring down at her gauges, I remember foolishly wanting to ask Vanna if there was some kind of a spell she could do for me, to transfer Serene’s soul into the new bike. Some kind of ritual she could do, maybe involving a salt circle and candles, pentacles and burning herbs like that night she gave me the first protection bracelet… I don’t know what the fuck any of that shit actually means, or does… Still, the thought crossed my mind.
“Fucking asshole.” I mutter to myself. “Motorcycles don’t have souls…” Though, even as I forced myself to say those words out loud, it pains my heart. Serene was alive to me. I may be crazy, but she was.
“Please come back…” I whisper, taking a moment to steel my nerves before I hit the ignition.
Glancing up at the flat screen above my work bench, I watch Vanna ring up the last customer of the day at her shop. She’s all smiles, until they leave. Then that sullen expression returns to her face once more as she moves slowly around the shop to lock up and turn off display cases. She’s been like this all day… Since our fight this morning. Since I disappointed her and betrayed her trust. Since I made her believe she wasn’t a priority over Lucinda. That couldn’t be further from the truth.
Must I always fail the most important women in my life?
Closing my eyes, I bring my hand back to the ignition and rest my finger upon the switch.
“Please, Serene... Come back to me.”
My test results confirm that I am in fact, pregnant. I went by the clinic after work to pick up a physical copy of my results, now that I really do have to tell Dean...
God, how far along could I possibly be? A blood test can determine as early as a week from conception. But even my strip test showed positive. This all barely feels real to me.
I feel like I’m lost in a daze of disbelief and frustration. Confusion only adding to the mix of misery brewing since this morning. But I do want answers. And before I go home for round two of the argument that started this morning, I’m going to get those answers from Legion, directly from the source, for myself.
Parking my car in the run-down lot in front of the old, condemnable looking former Diner, I double check the address on the business card Legion handed me months ago. Shockingly, this is the place.
Grabbing my cellphone, I bring up Dean’s number, debating what I should text him about me being here. No matter what I say, he’s going to flip out and probably try to race here to stop me.
This place is shady looking, to state the least… And I don’t even know if Legion is here right now. I don’t know what his motorcycle looks like. I thought about calling the number on the card, but I don’t want to give him the heads up, either. Dean seems convinced that Legion has a thing for me. If that’s true, maybe I can use that to find out just exactly what’s going on?
I back out of texting Dean, and bring up Viking’s number instead. I’ll tell Viking where I am. At least someone will know. And maybe it will take Viking a few minutes to rat me out to Dean. I know he will. Our town isn’t exactly around the block from the Demons’ Den, but if I have to wait to speak with Legion, I’ll need whatever spare minutes I can get.
Hitting send, I put my phone back in my purse and exit my car, knowing full well this is a half-baked plan. Yet in this odd, almost detached frame of mind I’ve felt stuck in all day, I don’t really care. Is it because I don’t believe it? I’m not sure. My only desire in this moment, is to confront Legion myself.
As I make my way towards the front entrance, I realize one of the two men standing guard outside, is Dean’s brother. His eyes widen as he realizes who I am, and walks hurriedly to meet me at the curb.
“You can’t be here.” He says. “Get back in your car and get out of here.”
“I want to speak with Legion. Is he here?”
“No.”
“You’ll have to forgive me for not taking your word on that.” I try to step past him, but he grabs my arm to stop me. “Your brother would have a problem with this.” I warn him, glancing at his hand clamped on my arm.
