Somewhere in a grungy bar in El Paso, Texas, our hero
stands; a fearless man, with the attributes of a Harley
Davidson motorcycle; a free spirit in the open road, taking
paths untaken, choosing roads never before chosen. Within
the bar, labeled with a blue neon sign saying "Hank's
Hangout", was a rattling Billiards table. It was crowded
with 5 people; only two were players, but onlookers chose to
stop by and gaze as an exciting game snowballed between two
men. One was a rough edged man in his late twenties. He wore
a black shirt, matching pants and shoes and on a nearby seat
lay a leather jacket, more than likely his. The other was a
common beer guzzling drunk you'd expect to see in a bar, for
it is the one place you may be legally drunk.

"8 ball, corner pocket'', says the man in black attire, the
game nearing its end with a clear victory "I've got 10 bucks
saying you won't be making that shot, buddy", said the large
man in biker gear and quite a lot of body hair sticking out
in places we'd rather not speak of.

With a slight shine in his eye the player aims carefully,
pulls back the cue, and strikes. The ball bounces off the
walls of the table, missing the pocket and racing across the
table; after several spins, it returns to the same spot, and
slowly heads for the destined hole. It goes in slowly with a
knock and leaves the table empty.

"I guess you were wrong then; those ten bucks, excluding the
50 we bet on the game, shall be mine", the winning player
elegantly pronounces with a small grin of success.

"You lowly bastard, you must have cheated!  Winning isn't
enough, you have to show off too? Here, have some of this
drink", the biker raises a chair with rage and tosses it
over to the other player from the far side of the bar. His
friends back away, not wishing to be part of the fight.

Diverting the chair with the pool cue, the player's words
through grinded teeth were "I didn't want to resort to this,
Sir, but you leave me little choice", beginning to
professionally spin the cue with his hand and rotating it
quickly. He stops it and points at the furious biker.

The biker charges forward with an angry grunt. A player
breaks a cue in two sharp halves and points a sharp splinter
at the biker's eye. Just as he's about to ram it through his
head and make his leave with a body count, a waitress
screams at him: "No! Don't you kill anybody in this here
bar. I'll call the cops if I have to!".

Now finally upset, the slimmer of the fighters drops the
sharp wooden cue and swings his elbow back with a grin; his
left fist and the biker's right eye make contact. The biker
drops to the hardwood floor, raising dust off of it, while
the winner steps over him to get to the waitress behind her
counter. He steps forward slowly and surely.

"He'll be up and walking in an hour, now may I have a beer
Miss?" He asks politely.

She takes a moment to understand the consequences, but
eventually replies: "Home's Keg or foreign?"

"Foreign", he answers quietly, "and if I may have your name
as well Miss", he adds softly.

"Emily, and here's your beer. That will be $23, 3 for the
beer and 20 for the cue", she firmly says to him, looking at
the broken stick that lay shattered on the floor.

"Put that on my good friend's tab, the one with the puffy
right eye on the floor. I should be leaving this place
anyway; can't be in one place for too long", he sips the
beer in a hurry and walks to the pool table, puts on his
jacket, and proceeds to step out of the bar, not paying
attention to the waitress's angry comments about his
mother.

On the stairs out, under the scorching sun, is a small boy,
9 years old. He was sitting on the steps waiting, blocking
the exit. Trying to skip over the child, the man trips and
lets out a shout to the boy, "hey kid, do you have to be
sitting on the damn steps? People are trying to get through
and don't want to jump over you!"

"Sorry Mister, I'm just waiting for my father.  He said I
couldn't go in so I'm just waiting, and anywhere but on
these steps there's no shade. What would you prefer; to skip
over a kid on the stairs, or call 911 when you see him lying
passed out from heat stroke, after being kicked from the
stairs?"

The man looks at him, nearly trying to answer the rhetorical
question he was posed with a gaze of surprise. "Well...is
your dad a guy in a leather vest by any chance...?" Fearing
he may have knocked out the father of that child.

"No Sir, My father wears a brown tweed jacket and jeans. I'm
Chris, Chris Darnel", the boy replies with wide open eyes.

"Jack Orewel, and I don't think I saw anyone that fits that
description in the bar. Boy, are you sure he's in?" Jack
comments to the small child.

"Well, he drives a dark blue Chevrolet Caprice", Chris
answers, unsure where his father may be.

Looking onto the parking lot, behind it the busy road, Jack
saw no Caprice and could only assume the so called father
had vanished. Or the boy was lying for whatever reason; not
uncommon in the company of nine year olds. "Are you sure
boy? There isn't even a clue a Caprice was here and I bet
there won't be one passing by in a long time. I've seen this
before, but mostly in movies. I think you've been left back
kid".

"No Sir, we live all the way in Pittsburg, New Hampshire. My
father said we were only going here because he had business
here. No way he took off without me after having driven over
2,500 miles across the U.S", Chris replies, not suspecting
his father could ever abandon him, much less after being in
his company nearly a week on the roads.

They both stare at each other; Jack's eyes are cold,
rational, and yet compassionate for the young boy who does
not know his father had made a tedious road trip only to
leave him behind. Chris looks at Jack unable to comprehend
how a father could neglect to such an extent. Orewell shifts
his eyes, nervously thinking what to tell the little child
before him. He settles for the cold and brutal truth as he
had always wanted to know it. "Look son, your father left
you here for dead because he doesn't want you; but don't
worry, I'll take you with me to him and give him a piece of
my mind about leaving behind children in another state".

Slowly realizing the truth, Chris looks ahead into the
deserted terrain. The classic image of westerns pops to mind
with a cactus and ball of dust rolling on the dirt, blown
away by the southern winds. "No, just... just take me with
you; I want to live the life of the open road".

"The best I can do kid, is to take you with me to your
parents and then drop you off there. I can't have a kid
tagging along behind me", Jack proclaims, quivering at the
idea of even traveling with the company of a child who will
more than likely disturb him most of the time. "So... let's
just do it and get it over with now. First we have to get
you a helmet, or a trash bin to wear; any old thing will
do", he continues with a small smile; the child does not
look amused. Later the two march into a store conveniently
located right by the bar. Walking in, the sales person
standing behind his wood and plastic counter reacted with
awe; he had never before seen a biker that young, as the
child was about to be.

"Kid's first lid, eh? I'll give you a special deal; $350 and
it's yours", the pleasant person tries to help. Jack
responds "Yeah, I'll take it.  I'm just going out of the
Ginmill and about to go a long way on the I. Here's 50 bucks
and I'll be taking that".

"You're the kid's father?" The seller begins to question. He
didn't yet comprehend Jack's response.

"No, I'm just driving him to New Hampshire as a favor", Jack
replies while pushing away the money and grasping the small
helmet below his armpit. The stunned salesman frowns and
twitches his eyebrows, thinking he must have missed
something in that last sentence, but before he could ask a
thing the eerie traveler had walked out of the store. A
shocked store clerk then looks at the counter to see the
fragment of the money he had requested; his nostrils flare
and  eyes widen at once. Knowing he had lost about $300 and
didn't even notice it.


Meanwhile Jack stands beside Chris who is looking at a
single shoe left on the sandy road. He shyly speaks up, "Who
the hell leaves behind one shoe? If you're going to leave
shoes, you might as well leave a pair". Jack nods in consent
saying to Chris that the phrase "Hobos on wheels" comes to
mind (Shopping cart wheels that is), with the image of the
lone shoe by a biker bar in the very edge of nowhere and
between nothing. The two get distracted from the lone
sneaker as a stranger in a brand new Chrysler C300 waves for
them to help him park in a tight space. Jack waves back and
approaches, he tells Chris to get on the motorcycle, get his
helmet on and be ready to go in a hurry. Chris is excited
and blurts out to Jack as he's leaving, "Cool! You ride a
bike! I've got a bike too, just... not as big". Jack comes
near the small parking space and waves at the driver to go
back saying, "You've got lots of room, go back, go back!"
The driver backs up the large vehicle as Jack shouts out
again, "Good, good". He presses the gas pedal a little
harder thinking he has room, encouraged by the young man's
shouts. The driver then feels the impact as his expensive
car is smashed into the front bumper of a large H2 Hummer
which doesn't have as much as a scratch on it. The driver
gets out of his car, running to the back to inspect the
damage. He yells at the top of his lungs, "What... what the
fuck did you just do?!".

Jack calmly licks his upper lip and blurts out, "Yeah...
about that... I really have to go now,
see-ya!" Jack guns it back to his bike, wears his helmet
sideways, pulls on the throttle and drives away. At that
very moment the store clerk walks out looking for Jack.
Running out of the store he expects to bump into the
traveler who is coming back to give the rest of the money
with an apology for forgetting but as the door slams open
there is only dust on the driveway and a chopper in the
distance, with two helmets, a crashed Chrysler... and a
shoe.

Day 1 on the road- Texas

The newly forged twosome is sitting at a crowded diner in
Balmorhea, Reeves County. Jack is looking at Chris not
knowing where to take the conversation next; usually the
topics would be beer, women and cars. However this time it
would prove hard as his new mate was only a child. Chris
looks up from the old stained, but white, table and dares to
say the words first, "So... how old are you?". Jack seems
delighted not having to think much for the reply and
answers, "twenty nine, and you're like what, nine? At best!"
Chris replies slowly as if fishing for more topics, "Yup".

He gets a bright look on his face as he finds more things to
say, rushing into them all at once, "What do you do for a
living? How long? Do you even like it? Do you have any
friends? A girlfriend? Do you own a gun? Can I have a
beer?"

Jack tries to take it all in the thirty seconds he got. He
waves over to the waitress to come over and in the same time
replies to Chris, "I bet on things, do odd jobs of different
ways, I make enough money to get by. I've been doing it for
nearly 10 years and yes, I like it. I had friends, once.
Well actually it was just one guy but he... passed away. I
had a girlfriend but that ended on the wrong side and I'd
rather not speak of it. I don't own a gun and... HELL no!"

The waitress finally comes over and speaks to them, "Hello,
I'm Edna and I'll be with you today. What can I get you
two?"

Jack replies, "I'll take a cheeseburger and a beer of
whatever you have. The kid will have the same only with
a..."

"Beer!" Chris abruptly interferes. Jack gazes at him and is
quick to correct him with a sigh, "By beer, he meant Coke.
However by beer I meant... beer".

Chris looks frustrated at the failed yet heroic attempt at
underage drinking. The waitress stares at the two with an
eerie look on her face. She walks away with the order notes
in her hand. Seven minutes later she delivers them their
food. They both start eating with hungry, blood thirsty
eyes. Chris begins to question Jack again, "So, what sort of
engine you got on your bike?"

Jack looks up as he bites off a piece of the meat and
cheese. He swallows and answers, "Twin cam, 1450 cc,
internal gerotor which is more efficient, maintains a higher
pressure and larger volume. Silent chain, Bathtub shaped and
no spark wasted. Neat eh?"

The kid looks at Orewell for a brief moment, says nothing
and returns to chewing on his meal. Quietly they pay their
bill and leave just to get back on the road. They go to a
Motel later that night and get some sleep although
interrupted frequently by the constant noise of rodents and
insects which seemed to infest the whole building. Jack
falls asleep at 2 PM after 2 hours of many bathroom trips
induced by the aforementioned cheeseburger.

Day 2 on the road- Arkansas, land of no teeth

We survived.

Day 3 on the road- Missouri and Illinois

Jack and Chris travel inside of the city of Saint Louis.
They take a small side road to find any place where they can
eat and leave as soon as possible. On their way they pass a
kindergarten; Jack is reminded of his childhood and certain
phrases from his own past come rushing into his mind as he's
passing it by, seeing all the children running to the fence
to admire the rumble of the mighty engine (a twin cam engine
I remind you).

1985 - Jack's mother: "You're father and I are getting a
divorce Jack. He wants to meet other people and mommy
already has. You'll live with both of us, two weeks at a
time".

1989- Jack's father: "Son, you're mother died in a car crash
last night. There's no point hiding it and no point in
crying over it, let the past stay in the past".

1993 - Jack's father: "You're on your own now kid, I'm off
to Ohio on a job. You know how the house runs, I'll leave
you a little money to get by. See-ya".

1995 - Jack's shrink: "There's something wrong Jack, you
know there is; the constant phobias and apathy, the
conniptions whenever something goes wrong... it has to stop.
I'm sending you to an expert. You can choose not to go, but
I'd recommend against that".

2000 - Jack's bank representative: "Sir, I'm afraid we're
going to have to confiscate nearly all of your possessions.
You haven't paid any taxes in 7 years''.

He shakes his head to clear off the worst thoughts he'd had
in years and thinks to himself, "I remember those days when
I was that young, the innocence that accompanies it, knowing
nothing is wrong in your world and nothing can be wrong,
knowing everyone you meet is good and being sheltered from
the troubles of this world. Before you had to worry about
friends, teachers, homework... and way before you had to
think about relationships or finding work to support
yourself, at that age you're just a kid living happily ever
after with your parents. But no, we give our children all
that confidence only to it smash later on.

If only we could all just stay in that point of life, before
we know how evil the world around us really is; without
people kidnapping children to have their way with them;
without terrorism bombing all around us; without the
carelessness of some people. And I guess without people
driving by and thinking of their own pitiful childhood".

Jack keeps thinking when Chris pulls his shirt down, "Jack!
A tree! Move!"
Looking back to the road Jack sees an oak tree facing him
and approaching rapidly. He swerves to avoid it and lets out
a sigh of relief. They get past the obstacle in one piece
and drive on. Later on the road a red Porsche Cayman S
appears, driven by two young attractive women. They drive
alongside the motorcycle and wave hello. Jack lifts up the
wind shield of his helmet and smiles back with a wink, the
girls rev the engine and giggle. Chris does the same and the
girls look at each other in slight shock and take the next
turn out. Jack turns to Chris with a holler, "You blew it!"

The two continue to drive when Chris asks Jack why he heard
lots of noise right before he walked out of the bar the day
they met. Jack tries to explain knowing the child knows he
was probably in a fight.

Jack answered, "See Chris, there are two types of people,
the attacker and the defender, much like in nature with
animals like the bull vs. the cougar. In nature the bull
doesn't attack often; he attacks when he's fighting another
male for a female, or when he is really pissed off. On the
other hand the cougar is born pissed off; they constantly
fight and never solve anything in any way of peace. They
have claws and teeth and eat flesh to satisfy themselves.
The bull however is a vegetarian and only has those menacing
horns to defend himself. Now think what would happen if the
cougar were to approach and piss off the bull. As you must
see the bull would ram him in a glorious but predictable
battle. I'd say the bull would win though being injured he
would never quit. So what you heard in the bar was
basically... a bull and a cougar.

Chris replied "Well I just thought it was a fight between a
couple drunks in the bar, but when you put like that,
whoa..."

Eventually night came along and they had to check into any
cheap motel they could find, but Jack seemed to have
misplaced his wallet and couldn't pay.

The owner says, "Look here you two, either you fork out $20
or you're sleeping somewhere else'', while knocking on the
glass behind his counter. Orewell and Darnel look at each
other, Chris looks down and says, "I didn't want to do this,
but if I have to". Chris pulls up his shirt revealing his
chest to the owner. The owner isn't impressed and says:
"What's that supposed to be?" Chris looks over at Jack and
says with an innocent grin, "It worked in 'Serving Sara'".
Jack slaps his own forehead lightly as if a great sign of
stupidity (or innocence) had occurred before him. The two
leave the reception office while Jack mumbles, "Ass..."

Later on they stand quietly outside of room 17; after making
sure the room was empty Jack attempts to pick the lock while
Chris is looking out for people. Jack looks up at Chris for
a moment and says: "I don't know what I'm doing. For all I
know I could be locking it even more, ok?" Chris gives him
angry look as to express the feeling of "What the fuck are
you doing then?". A couple moments later the door clicks and
squeaks open. They walk in and see there is one bed, they
look at each other and sigh, moments later Chris climbs into
bed as Jack puts two chairs facing each other and lays on
top of them. Jack soon slips off the two chairs and gets
back on. He eventually falls asleep.

Day 4 on the road- Indiana

Our heroes now make their way through the state of Indiana.
While in the midst of the state, Jack seemed to make some
wrong turns and wound up in a cemetery. He gets off the bike
and told the young boy to wait for a few minutes until he
gets back. Jack slowly steps through the graves, some
unmarked, some marked, some surrounded by weeping relatives,
some gathering dust and spider cobs all alone. Such a grave
was the one that belonged to a certain Gregg Cliffe, one who
had died on Christmas day the last year. Seems the holidays
weren't too kind to him. Jack faces the grave and pulls up a
medal that was around his neck. He starts talking silently
to the grave:

"Look... I know I promised to give you this back when I
borrowed it 16 months ago, but I never knew you would... you
know. I'm sorry I wasn't there, but I want you to know it
could have happened to anyone, and you set an example that
modern medicine still can't be the cure to everything. I
know I never said this sort of things back when you were
alive but I suppose I never felt the need to, and now... now
it's too late to pour my heart out, but fuck it, you're
dead, you can't stop me. You probably don't know this
because I never talked about it, but you were most likely
the only friend I ever had that I could trust with my
secrets, and indeed you knew my darkest secrets and I rest
assured that you took them to your grave with you as I will
with yours. It shouldn't have happened to you, if anyone
deserved such a punishment like that it's me; you had a
family and everything. God is cruel having done this to them
and to you; it should have happened to me; I am a Godless,
shameless whore and I'm not afraid to admit it, heh. I keep
thinking about how it happened and it never makes sense to
me. I've looked through every angle and it's still not
right. You know what they say; 'only the good die young'.
But as Iron Maiden said very well in their song, "No more
tears Amigo". That's all I've got to really say. That and,
hang in there buddy, the first 40 years suck, then you have
eternity to get used to it". Jack lays down the medal on the
tombstone and slowly walks away to the bike. On his way back
he is reminded of the words of John Milton, "Long is the way
and hard, that out of hell leads up to light". It's been
sort of a rough year for him. Right before he leaves the
gates he has a flashback of another person that was in his
life for a while but also left; a woman named Kate. He shook
his head to get rid of the thought before he really started
thinking about it. He gets on the bike and starts the
engine. He turns to Chris: "I had some business to take care
of, hope you didn't wait too long". Chris nods in a "no"
kind of gesture. They drive off and away.

Day 5 on the road- Ohio

The two are sitting at yet another small diner to get some
food. This time Chris gathers up courage and asks Jack about
his former girlfriend he refuses to talk about. Jack tells
him no, but Chris persists and continues to ask until
eventually Jack couldn't even enjoy a bit of his meal so he
caves in and agrees to tell Chris about it,

"Alright already, I'll tell you if you promise to shut up
the rest of the way. It was 5 years ago, her name was Kate.
I was madly in love but it took me three months to get her
to agree to date me, I guess I pressured her too much and it
didn't work. I did everything I could; I gave her more than
I could afford; I did every romantic gesture in and out of
the book, but nothing worked. Two weeks later she gave the
old line of "we have to talk" and told me it was over. I
know that was a long time ago but it's just the sort of
times when you know that kind of person will just never come
around ever again. There, you happy now? I'm miserable,
thanks a lot, let's just finish this god awful food and get
out".

Day 6 on the road- New York

Chris threw up from the food. He'll live.

Day 7 on the road- New Hampshire

The two finally reach Pittsburg at about noon. Jack follows
the kid's directions through the city and reaches his home.
They get off the bike and Jack knocks firmly on the door. He
gets no answer, so he knocks again. No answer. He knocks one
more time as hard as he can, the door opens quietly. Jack
looks in, the home is rusted and dirty, empty of any
furniture. He looks back with a gaze of utter shock and
finds to his surprise, that Chris is gone. He looks
everywhere around, but he can't find him. Soon after he
realizes this all may have been some psychotic personal
journey to understand he had to face his past some day.

The scene rapidly changes to a bar in New York City. Jack is
talking to two other guys who seem fascinated by what he's
saying. They ask him, "Wow, is that really what happened?"
Jack replies with a knowing grin, "No, not at all. I dropped
the kid off at the Police Department and his father showed
up shortly saying Chris got away from the car while
refueling. It could have happened to anyone".

Two men at bar, "So why did you tell us this long ass
story?"
Jack, "Well, it sure made a better story, didn't it?"

Didn't it now?