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Their smiles grew, right before they hugged.
Watching two grown men embrace, with so much love between them, a longing possessed me. I hadn’t been held like that since before Mammy died.
For weeks, the younger man kept returning to the home, making all kinds of noises with hammers and, according to Da, electric tools. When I asked Da questions, he said the young man was ‘remodeling.’ I was curious as to what that meant and what the young biker was doing inside the house.
One day, when it was quiet outside and Da was at work, I opened the sliding glass door and stepped into the sun, instantly sighing at the heat. Certain times of the year, it would be so cold outside. Sometimes it snowed, a lot.
As always, my head leaned back and I closed my eyes. Feeling such joy for the beautiful day, I opened my mouth and let a song from one of my tapes flow from my mouth. I was so immersed in my singing, I heard nothing else until… “Your voice.”
I jolted, opening my eyes to see a set staring back at me from over the fence.
Then… I ran back inside, sure to close and lock the door, and then shut the curtain.
For days, I didn’t return outside. The only time I saw the young man was when he was working in his back yard and would catch me watching him from my bedroom window.
He’d wave.
I’d hide.
Soon, I realized it wasn’t what was happening inside his house that had captured me, causing me to spy. It was him. What he was.
A biker.
Did he know Mammy’s Da? Would he be as nice as Mammy claimed some bikers to be?
The next day, while cleaning Da’s home, I couldn’t get the biker out of my thoughts. I kept wondering what Mammy would do. Go outside? She was so brave, and Da said I was just like her.
Taking a deep breath, I went to the sliding glass door… and opened it.
At first, since it was quiet outside, I assumed the biker wasn’t there. That was okay. The sun was bright and warm, so I sat in a chair. The metal was old and incredibly squeaky, but I loved it because it was on springs. The motion felt most soothing—
“I’m sorry I scared you the other day.”
It was the biker. I couldn’t see him through the fencing, but there was a crack in the aging wood; I could see a dark shadow moving.
Trying to be like Mammy, I took a chance and spoke-whispered, “Are you nice?”
The shadow stopped. “Ah shit, are you scared of bikers? We’re not all that bad, I swear.”
I stared at the wood between us. “My mother said some are very nice.”
“No shit? She an Old Lady?”
Mammy… My chair bouncing and squeaking, I peered at my hands in my lap. “No. Quite young.”
His chuckle was warm like the sun. “Not in the biker world. Got it.” The shadow started moving around again. This time, I heard clanks and clunks. His voice sounded strained, as if lifting something heavy. “Thanks for not running this time. How can I become friends with my neighbor if she’s always running away?”
My heart lit up. “Friends?”
Something heavy hit the ground as he laughed. “That unusual, huh?” More clunks took place as he added, “A pretty thing like you must get all kinds of offers, but none wanting only to be friends.”
I got up from the chair and snuck closer. What would a friend look like up close?
Peeking through the crack, I only saw his back. It was bare and sweaty, his big muscles moving like a tiger I saw on TV.
He was working on something while saying, “I’ve got an Old Lady, so you’re safe with me. Besides, I’m not into jailbait.”
Basically, nothing he just said made any sense to me. But the one thing I wanted to understand most was… “What is jailbait?”
