"All right, he said you seem O.K., but your friend is a might confused. You leave the bike and I'll only charge fifty bucks for the two days."
The amount was very high. I was about to ask Henry to consider $30, when Bryan intervened again.
"Henry, you stupid, fat fuck we ain't buying into your scam. Give Tim all his money back minus ten bucks for your trouble. This is more then fair and you can still rent the bike to someone else for the summer. If you don't like this offer the bike will suddenly be involved in a very serious, costly accident."
Bryan was a bit out of line, but there was no stipulation that would make me responsible for repairs in case of an accident. I was sure Henry had full coverage on the bike but it would be difficult to explain what I was doing with the vehicle when the accident occurred.
"I don't know who the hell you think you are punk..., Henry now said to Bryan, but I'm not going to stand here and be insulted on my own property. Especially by the likes of you."
"You just were, cum face, Bryan said. Look, I don't have the time to waste listening to your shit. Are you gone to give the money back, or what?"
Henry emotions seem to be a mix of anger, confusion and some fear.
"Tim, he said to me ignoring Bryan, I"ll only charge you the ten dollars on the condition I never lie eyes on you or your twisted fuck of a friend again.
"Not a problem," I said in a voice that allowed him to maintain his dignity.
Bryan walked back towards the bike as Henry was handing me the money. He was going to let the "twisted fuck" remark slide. Bryan had his victory and he was not one to gloat. As we were leaving I heard Henry scream, "Tell that asshole Bill not to send anymore of his friends to me."
Bryan had gotten me the money but I didn't approve of his methods. He had overacted and it was scary to think what might have happen if Henry hadn't taken the deal. I was about to ride with Bryan for close to six thousand miles and I was already concerned about what I consider to be an unstable personality. Bryan even seemed a little ashamed of his actions.
I think what had set Bryan off was not Henry specially but what people like Henry represented to Bryan. These were people who had been born to the right families, gone to the finer schools and received the best jobs. The very types of person who snub their noses at people like Bryan. Coming from the mountains of Tennessee he most likely had suffered taunts from people like Henry his entire life. Henry just had the misfortune of being there when Bryan released his attack on the snobs of the world.
Later that day Bryan called his friend to arrange pick-up of the ST-1100. I had the sneaking feeling that not all of my $200 I paid toward rent was going to make it to the renter. Bryan had gotten the money from me before we went and no discussion of money took place while we were there. I didn't really mind if Bryan pocketed some of the money he had after all arranged for me to get the bike. What I couldn't understand is why he didn't just tell me he was going to take a cut for setting up the deal. The bike was nice looking but nothing great. I mean it was in great shape, brand new, bright red color but the design was nothing that fantastic. When I rode it I quickly lost concern about the appearance and marveled in the state of the art of the engine. The bike ran like a dream. It was just as quick and nimble as my Katana but offered the luxury of a touring bike. It may not sound like the Harley but it probably had double the power and performance value. If you wanted to climb a mountain at 120mph on this baby it wasn't a problem. In a straight way Harley's could never reach those speeds. The fact that the price was fifty less then the Harley for summer was just icing on the cake.
Dan's funeral was a surreal experience, but all funerals are surreal to me. The idea that whatever our human lives are can just end is very strange. The notion many hold that the spirit of the person will then be whisked to a utopia land, is just plain bizarre. I've been to maybe a half dozen funerals, mainly elderly relatives that I hardly knew, and each time I hear the same things. Ashes to ashes dust to dust and shit like that. I've heard the attempts at summarizing what the light of life is but little on why it is extinguish. Sure, "God Will" and stuff but what the hell does that mean. If there is a God shouldn't we better understand what the "will" is. I mean if we are suppose to serve he/she/them/ it, whatever? Wouldn't it be nice if we understood what their "will" was supposed to be?
Dan was a guy who felt life was a pointless piece of shit so you might as well have the most fun you can. Was he following God's Will? Is the reason for Dan's existence the same as all of us or do we each have separate reasons for our existence's? Regardless, of what good or bad we think we are doing in this life most of our lives seem to end in similar manners. Our bodies wither and our organs slowly cease to function. If we are lucky our minds do not turn to Jell-O. In the end we are usually in bed being cared for my strangers that no nothing of what our life was about on earth. We lay there scared and confused wondering what all the previous years had been for. This may seem depressing but quite often that is all that is left us. Besides, the dark only becomes scary when you're afraid of the light.
Maybe Dan's departure from this planet was better then most. He lived for each moment and died in a body that was still in good physical condition. Dan never will endure the pain, isolation, and shame that is a part of becoming old in the United States. "Live fast die young and leave a good looking corpse." Maybe it wasn't any god's will but it seemed to have advantages.
My mind suddenly drifted to the last conversation with Liz. She finally had convinced me that the person I cared for the most didn't want anything to do with me. It felt like half of me was already dead. I was scared and alone. Even though surrounding me were the people I loved the most.
It often felt like I was observing my own life from a distance and now that distance was becoming even further. The thing about existence that was overwhelming sad to me, was not the lack of beauty but the unbelievable abundance of it. Every time I felt close to another persons life it was like observing a breathtaking new sunrise whose beauty and splendor is beyond description by our silly mortal words. Watching these amazing infernos slowly being squelch by unforgiving winds and endless rains was unbearably painful to me. Liz had been given my soul and my light was flickering. The funeral had brought death close and I welcomed her dark familiar presence.
I felt as though, I was descending deep into a bottomless well. The voices of people surrounding me were muffled and meaningless. I searched the surroundings quickly for something/anything that might pull me from "The Pit". It was Mrs. Frostberg's eyes I saw. Her eyes were lost in a maze of profound sorrow and they were there within my own. With a brief passing glance we understood. We were in the same place and we must return. Return now or we never could. Possibly, both our lives were saved that day by that meeting of our eyes. Whether she had been there to help me or me her, is impossible to say. More likely, it was just chance like so much in these troubling times. Neither of us wished our naked souls to be viewed in the suffocating black pit, where all lives flames are extinguished. Though the murky, dank depths I rose back to where others still surely roamed. I looked once below me as I ascended the pit. What I saw filled me with a terror that is beyond measure. Below in the merciless pit the transparent JellyFish flew in a frenzy of circling colors. Inside my head I heard a voice say, "you were the only to see me then and you are the only one who sees me now." I was returned to the safe level where we huddle and tremble beside the awaiting pit.
I left my world of despair as I'd arrived.... slowly and without conscious awareness. Everything blended again into itself. It was though I was watching a movie that had just been brought to focus and never realized until the picture returned how distorted the previous images had been. Back again to the sobs of the black dressed figures by the open grave. I tried to concentrate on something that could whisk me from the fresh dug hole. Away from "The Pit."
I thought of the trip. I thought of Alaska. When I thought of Alaska it wasn't about working in the fishery. It was about the adventure I was sure we would have in getting there. The next three weeks of life was going to be spent traveling over nasty terrain to reach a place where none of us have been before. As much as we felt we've planed for it, we would surely encounter lots of things that you can't be planned for and the notion thrilled me. I can not remember when I looked forward to something so much.
As the service ended I watched in utter horror as the casket with Dan inside was lowered into the ground, "The Pit!". To my complete surprise I heard myself whisper, "Eat that dust, you shit." I have no idea what made be say such a strange thing. If there was a God I probably had just punched my own ticket to damnation.
We each said good-bye to the Frostberg"s and wished them well. As I shook Mr. Frosteburg's hand I noticed he was trying very hard to hold back his tears. Why he would do such a thing I have no idea? If ever there was a time to cry, burying your only son seemed to be one. It was strange what people considered was proper behavior in public arenas.
The elderly members at the funeral all seem to be lingering and huddling together as Dan's friends were leaving. There was most likely going to be a wake after the service. Whatever, was going to occur it was obvious that Dan's peer group was not on the invite list. The Frostberg's had been very nice to us but when it came to welcoming us as formal members to their world they drew the line.
