Page 109 of Nuts

Percy chuckled. “I was in control the entire time, Prez.”

“Hey Joey,” someone shouted.

I turned toward the voice. Sandy stood at Smokey’s side. Wearing jeans, a fitted tee, and a bandana, she and her baby bump looked adorable.

Excited to see at least one familiar face, I waved.

“Follow me,” Percy said.

He introduced me to Pee Bee and Tegan, Crip and Peyton, and Cholo and Lex. Dozens of other men wandered around the parking lot, talking and looking at the motorcycles, but we didn’t talk to any of them.

I recalled what Bama said about Pee Bee resembling my father. I stole a look at him every chance I got, and imaging what everyone must have thought about my dad. Pee Bee was an intimidating figure, towering above all the other men.

But he was jovial.

I wondered if my father was the same.

“Listen up,” Crip shouted. “We’re headed to San Clemente, and that’s where this motherfucker starts. There’ll be no hot-dogging, no horseshit, and no changing rank. You ride at the end of this motherfucker where you rode at the beginning. When we pull out of this lot, who you’re paired up with is who you run with for the day. I know we’ve got a couple of hang arounds in attendance, but as always, colors in the front, and colors in the rear.”

He scanned the crowd, and then continued. “Guess that’s it. It’s a beautiful fucking day in SoCal, let’s have a good little run. Fuckers Forever!”

“Forever Fuckers!” the crowd shouted in response.

He raised his fist high in the air. “Saddle up!”

“Hop on,” Percy said. “We’re up front with dip-shit.”

“You don’t like him?” I whispered.

“I love the son-of-a-bitch, but don’t tell him that.”

I grinned and grabbed my helmet. “You’ve got it, Boss.”

The air thickened with the sound of two-dozen motorcycles revving their exhaust. My heart raced. Percy inched his bike into the street, and sat in wait.

Crip and another man pulled out side by side. Then, Pee Bee and Cholo pulled out. Smokey followed, and we pulled alongside him. Another two followed. And then, another two. I watched over my shoulder as the process continued.

With a mechanical expertise that resembled members of a marching band, we rode from the clubhouse to San Clemente.

When were close enough to the location for me to see it, my jaw hit my lap. I didn’t have to ask if it was where we were going.

The sea of motorcycles gave it away.

I would guess that most girls my age would see a few thousand motorcycles as an eye sore. To me, it was a work of art. A masterpiece. Thousands of men, and their machines, all seeking the same thing.

A slice of freedom.

We pulled into the lot, parked together, and walked as a group to a large tent at the corner of the parking lot. After receiving our envelope, Percy handed it to me. “You’re in charge of that. Don’t lose it.”

I looked at Sandy. She shoved the envelope in her front pocket.

I did the same and then looked at Percy. “I won’t.”

“It’s gorgeous,” Sandy said. “This is going to be a great run.”

She was right. It was 75 degrees, sunny, and there was no wind whatsoever.

“It’s going to be fun.” I looked over each shoulder, and tried to comprehend what was happening. I couldn’t fathom how everyone could even get out of the parking lot. “This is crazy.”