Fiction: The Biker Man

This story is dedicated to one my friends who used to be biker. While she wasn’t an official Hell’s Angel, I’m pretty sure she was “hell on wheels” when she rode her bike. She’s still mighty feisty:~)

Dr. Lahari, my therapist, suggested going to the movies would help my phobia of thunderstorms. In her nasal voice, she said, “Camille, pick a loud movie. You won’t even hear …” She lowered her voice to a whisper, “the thunder.”

The next time the Weather Channel showed lots of red and yellow near my town indicating thunder storms, I found myself sitting on a sticky wooden seat, waiting for a movie to start.

I dropped my worry beads and leaned over to get them. Coming up, I caught a man staring at me. I knew he was looking at me because we were the only two people waiting for the next playing of Expendables 2.

I try not to make judgments based on appearance, but this man gave me the heebie-jeebies. He was around my age, about sixty. Chains hung from his clothes. A spiked leather bracelet complemented his studded biker boots. Bright tattoos peeked out from under his t-shirt. He was a biker man.

I don’t like biker men, but I wasn’t about to let this one scare me. The approaching storm was bad enough. I folded my arms and glared back. He shifted uncomfortably, but didn’t look away.

After a few minutes of our stare-off, I got up and sauntered over to the ticket boy as if I had a question to ask. He was studying his nails; I tapped his shoulder. With an arched thin eyebrow, he asked, “Do you need something, ma’am?

Using my head, I indicated the biker man and whispered, “See that man; the one who looks like an aging Hell’s Angel. He’s bothering me. Make him move.”

My attempt at subtlety went over his head; the ticket boy pointed directly at the biker man and said, “You mean that man. What’s he done to you?”

“Well, nothing, but he could. I’m a woman alone. He might be dangerous.”

The ticket boy sighed.  “Ma’am, I can’t make him move unless he does something. He’s got every right to stand there.”

“Well, he’s scaring me!” My voice was louder and higher than intended.

Raising his hand in a calming manner, the ticket boy said, “Okay, settle down. I’ll talk to him.”

He strolled over to the biker man. They talked. I watched. There were lots of gestures and words I couldn’t hear.

The ticket boy returned, shrugged his shoulders and said. “He doesn’t want to move.” With that said, he began studying his nails again and ignored me.

I returned to my sticky seat, but before I could sit down, the biker man stomped over, chains jingling. “What’s your problem, lady? I’m not doing anything to you.”

“You’re staring. It’s creepy.” I lifted my chin. He moved closer. I stood my ground and looked up into his eyes. My goodness, he has nice blue eyes.

He screwed that thought by snarling, “You got a problem with bikers, lady?”

“Not all bikers, just you! Leave me alone or I’ll get the manager.”

“Last time I heard, looking isn’t a crime. Then again, why am I looking at an uptight old lady like you?”

“Look who’s talking old. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

We were saved when the movie doors opened and people spilled out. I scooted inside. After settling in, I scanned the room and there he was sitting two rows back, smiling at me.

“Shit.” I whispered. Our eyes locked.

He mouthed, “Thought you could escape me? Wrong!”

My heart jumped. I slouched in my seat as the lights went down.

Just as the movie started, a big boom rattled the building, followed by another. Dr. Lahari lied to me! I heard this thunder just fine.

My heart started an erratic race. I dug in my purse for my meds, but the bottle slipped. Pills spilled, rolling down the darkened floor. Heat rushed through me. Drops of sweat fell into my eyes. I gasped for breath.

I stumbled out of my chair and fell on the stairs. Darkness closed in. Paper crinkled. Something smelling like popcorn was placed over my mouth. A familiar voice commanded. “Breathe lady! It’s just a panic attack. You’re gonna be fine.”

I took a breath and then another. Slowly, the panic eased. I opened my eyes, squinting in the bright light of the ticket boy’s flashlight. The biker man was leaning over me, holding a popcorn bag to my face.

“You! Get away from me.” I scrambled backwards, knocking the popcorn bag to the floor.

His chains jingled as he shook his head. “I should’ve let you pass out, but I know how it feels.”

He chuckled at my surprised look. “What, bikers can’t have panic attacks? Dogs do it for me. I sweat, can’t breathe, and eventually pass out. One time I woke up and this big old St. Bernard was licking my face. I passed out again.”

I smothered a laugh. Biker men weren’t supposed to be funny.

My show was over. The other people trying to watch the movie yelled for quiet. The biker man extended his hand. I took it and we went outside.

We sat together on the sticky bench. He asked, “Are you feeling better?”

I spoke to my feet. They didn’t care if I was embarrassed. “Yeah, I am. Thanks for what you did.”

The biker man’s words came out in rush. “Since we’re missing the movie, you want to share panic attack stories over a cup of coffee? My name’s Bob, by the way.”

OMG, he was asking me out! My stomach flip-flopped. I raised my eyes and really looked at him. He was cute, once you got used to the chains and the tattoos. Plus, he understood the embarrassment of breathing into paper bags. Dr. Lahari always told me to be more daring; here was my chance.

I nodded, stuck my hand out and said, “I’m Camille.” His hand was warm in mine. We walked out together. The ticket boy stared at us with his mouth open, ignoring his nails. I smiled at him.

*     *     *     *     *

This week is Jim’s spring break. We plan on doing springy kind of things, like sleeping in to catch the extra hour we lost, maybe taking a few road trips or doing spring cleaning. Anyone want to bet on whether or not we get to the “spring cleaning?” Anyway, this is my only post for this week, but I will get out and visit.


11 comments on “Fiction: The Biker Man

  1. Lynn says:

    Traffic has seemed light for the last few days – it must be spring break here, too. I hope you all enjoy it and indeed, do skip the spring cleaning. :)

    Love your story. What a nice biker man.

  2. Carolyn says:

    Fun story – not at all what I expected which always make a story a good read.

  3. Pea says:

    Nice. Simple story….although grooogh!…The sticky seats…I once sat in some ice cream in a darkened cinema and ruined a perfectly good jacket…so the sticky seats conjures up all sorts of negative memories.
    Have a lovely time off Sara.

  4. Linda says:

    Good one Sara, another happy ending! I remember being in a McDonalds in a small town in Northern Maine. There was an odd, bearded man who looked like just came out of the woods. I wasn’t really scared, but didn’t want to walk past him to the restroom. When I finally did, he smiled. That made all the difference. Beneath all that hair and beard, he had nice eyes and a kind face.

    I say the Spring cleaning can wait a bit. Go out and have fun!

  5. suZen says:

    Hi Sara,
    Oh this was a favorite!!!!! Since I’m moving up north to the land of “muskey men” (as in fish!) I’m getting teased relentlessly that I’ll end up with one, or a biker! Plenty of both up yonder. So this story tickled me. I’m ready for the adventure of it all – and who knows…………?

  6. jean sampson says:

    I DO like your happy endings, Sara! Have a great week doing whatever you feel like doing whenever you feel like doing it! :)

  7. Talon says:

    Sara, I love first-person stories and I really loved this! Such a great character! Your friend truly inspired you, didn’t she? :)

    Hope you and JC have a fabulous spring-time. I’m longing for it to make an appearance here – we got 3″ of snow this morning! :(

  8. Alien Ghost says:

    Hi Sara,

    This is a nice story, and I like how you reflect the pre-jugment we all tend to make from time to time. As always…great writing! :)

    About spring cleaning; why not to make it a “Spiritual Spring Cleaning” and go out and have fun? The other stuff can be done sometime in summer. LOL


  9. Valerie says:

    Sara, when I first started reading this I hoped it would end like it did! These unlikely romances are always my favorite, and I find those biker guys irresistible too! Fun story, and your writing is first rate-as always!

    Enjoy your week off-and mind you, not too much cleaning!! 😉

  10. patricia says:

    Clever clever writer you are, I liked this tale very much and the feelings were greatly used to advantage. Then I worried about all the pills on the floor of the theater – ha ha….I went through an earthquake in a movie theater with those new rolling floors and it was monsterously scary and extremely noisy. Would not like to repeat that performance. Hopefully the thunder stopped before the coffee arrived!
    Happy vacation – we are trying to finish the inside painting before we have to move outside and the weather drys out. Also pruning apple trees at the same time…big days, but at least the spring rains and wind keep my cyclist home to finish the projects!

  11. Kelvin Kao says:

    I was totally thinking the biker dude is Dr. Lahari in disguise… =P

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