My old Shovel was chuggin' right along and I was kind of letting my thoughts wander about the last few years I suffered through. The divorce wasn't particularly nasty except for the typical 'worthless motherfucker, never amount to nothing', blah, blah… I didn't give a shit anymore, and she didn't either, but as these things go, someone had to have the last word, and my ex-wife was gonna be the one. I finally got tired of the whole deal and said, mentally, of course, “FUCK ALL YOU COCKSUCKERS!!!” Judges don't like that sort of language, so I held my mud.
Anyway, back to the tale. I spied a nice, quiet, redneck-lookin' tavern comin' up quick, so without much thought, I eased on in to the gravel parking lot. I figured that I was far away enough not to know anyone, plus I was feeling parched after 300 miles. Time has a way of becoming inconsequential when your mind was emotionally shattered, donchaknow?!
The bar appeared to be empty, so I parked my scoot next to the open door and plate glass window for security and peace of mind, whatever that is… Looking around once more, I patted the ol' gal on her worn, leather seat and strolled in. As I took off my dark prescription shades, letting my eyes adjust to the light inside, I shivered a bit from the A/C and the fact that I'd been lost in my trance all day. A distinctly female voice called out from the welcome cavern, “Whatcha drinkin' there, cowboy?” As I turned toward the sound of her voice, more used to the inside of the place, I was most pleasantly surprized at the source. At 5'5'', maybe, a little on the round side, and literally busting out of her Wranglers, I was suddenly snatched from my incessant doldurms. A form-fitting shirt and a bandanna tied loosely around her neck topped off the epitome of country girl-ness. Built for comfort and speed, both, from what I could see. Even though I'd just got divorced, and had developed a bad attitude about the whole thing, I ain't fuckin' blind!
“Oh, something fermented and COLD, get yourself one, too, if ya like,” I said my words tripping over my vision. Actually, I had no intention of trying anything, but, hey, at this point, I was game, if she was. As she approached my table, I got a better look at this succulent morsel. Big smile, big tits, just wide enough ass to make things interesting. “My name's Sherry, and thanks for the beer. No one starts coming in till after six today anyway, since it's Sunday, and all.”
“The one's that matter call me Gramps, and no, I don't have any grandchildren, that I know of. I guess some of the crew think I have all this wisdom, or some such thing,” I muttered, my eyes dancing across her cleavage. Miss Sherry laughed, a real woman kind of laugh, as opposed to the girlish giggly shit ya run into sometimes. We talked for what seemed several hours, and some of the local crowd started coming in. I guessed that church was over in the neighborhood.
I found that she was divorced, as well, and wasn't looking either. It seemed as though the pickins were pretty slim around these parts for her, too.
I was getting a antsy as the crowd grew, not wanting any involvement, or anything else for that matter, BUT Sherry was quite fetching, and obviously fairly intelligent, and could carry on a conversation about a variety of subjects. Oh, yeah, she said that she liked bikes, particularly Harleys. It looked like things had taken a definite turn for the better, but I couldn’t stay. “You're not leavin', are ya,” she asked?
“Well, sweetheart, I'm a rolling stone”, I said over my shoulder, half joking, half not. She turned my rot-filled, emotional blender on high and added something sweet and fresh. I didn’t know how to react.
Sherry walked up to me deliberately and spun me around, looking me directly in the eye and said back to me, “Why don't you roll yer ass back here about midnight?” From her stance, it really wasn't a question.
Ya gotta appreciate directness like that! Like I said before, I was a stranger in a strange land, and didn't have anything else to do, since I'd taken off work to air it out some, and wasn't overly thrilled about going back.
“Are there any motels around here,” I asked?
“Come up here to the bar for a minute,” she replied. From behind the bar she got REAL close to me and pushed something into my hand, while giving me a peck on the cheek, and pointing in a direction I'd been riding.
“See ya later, Gramps”. I truly enjoyed watching her skip away from me to her awaiting customers. Whew, what an ass!
While straddling my bike, I looked down in my hand to find a key and a piece of paper with an address on it. Her place was on the same road as the bar about five miles away. That's what she was pointing at.
I know what you’re thinking, because I thought the very same thing, and much more, believe me. I found the little house with no problem, secured my bike around back, and went in. A small, functional place with a feminine air about it. the shower was a welcome sight. Afterwards, I found her TV remote and turned it on, and promptly fell asleep.
Later, I woke up in the dark and immediately thought, 'Shit, what time is it?' Ten-thirty, still got time! I slept only a few hours, but felt more rested than I had in a long time. My unending natural suspicion about life in general ate at me for months. I couldn’t kick it. This was the first time I let some air out of that ratty tire. Suddenly, everything felt new and fresh.
After the short ride back to the bar, I found the parking lot empty again. Walking inside, I saw Sherry coming from a storeroom where the beer and extra supplies were kept. Her face immediately brightened when she saw me and ran over to give me a big hug. “I hope I wasn't too forward with the key, Gramps,” she said, sheepishly.
“Well, I have to admit that it startled me some, but, nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Believe me, the offer made my day.” With this comment, Sherry smiled even more and lightly punched me in my round belly, a product of many birthdays and being too lazy to work out any more. Thinking to myself, 'Hmmm, a sense of humor, too.' I helped her with a few more cases and headed for the door.
I thought to myself, 'Damn, ya mean nicer than you, whew…' As I thumbed the starter, another one of those things we have to deal with at this age, Sherry eased her sweet ass down behind me. There was just enough room for me to feel her body and for her to be comfortable.
“Let's ride, baby,” she screamed as I shot a little gravel at the building, for effect. She directed me down several back roads to, what looked to be a footpath, of some sort. I glanced over my shoulder as she said, “Keep going, we're close, now.” Entering a clearing ahead, I saw what had to be the most beautiful lake around! It was picture perfect, and my newfound friend bounced over to the edge of the water. I walked up from behind and wrapped my arms around her. With this, she ground her round, tight ass into me. “I love this place, it's so peaceful.”
“It sure is, Sherry,” I said, nibbling on her earlobe.
She slinked away from me to get my sleeping bag from my back rest, and spread it on the ground. Nothing was said, or had to be said, for the next…well, I wasn't really keeping up with the time, ya know. I must have dozed for a minute, or two, when I heard Sherry splashing in the lake. “Come on in, the water's fine!”, she yelled to me.
“Yeah, and that ain't all!”, I yelled back as I jumped in with her. As we held each other, I could feel my cock stirring under the water. Looking into her eyes, I started to say something, but she stopped me by placing one of her red tipped fingers to my lips. “Shhh,” is all she said for the next, well, you know…
I felt like I had been dreaming, it was that good, and that perfect. The ride back to the house was quiet and serene, something I hadn't had much of lately. Pulling around back, I locked my bike again and went in to her house. Sherry had already slipped into a loose nighty and led me into her bedroom. Her bed was soft and fluffy, just like she was, and as we held each other, we drifted off to sleep.
I was awakened, in a most pleasant fashion, by a lovely head of hair bouncing easily on my morning hard-on. 'Maybe I'm dead and this is heaven!' I thought to myself. She kept going even after I erupted into her soft mouth. Looking up at me with that big, shiny smile, she asked, “Want some breakfast, baby, it should be done, by now?”
“Sure thing, sweetness!” Rolling off the bed and pulling my jeans on, I found a hot, black coffee on the nightstand. Thinking to myself again,' Now, how could she have known?'
Walking into the kitchen, I smelled the muffins before I got to them. This time I said aloud, “Am I dead and in heaven, or what?!”
Sherry said to me, “If that is what you wish, Master.” Turning her around, she had the most angelic face I'd ever seen. What could I have missed last night? Maybe it was exhaustion, stress, old age, hell, who knows, or cares, at this point!
“Come here, my little slave girl!” We embraced once more, before sitting and having a couple of hot muffins. Over my second cup of coffee, I said to the lovely Sherry, “You know that I have to be going.”
“Yes, I do, and I completely understand. I realize that a man has to roam, to be free, to search, to explore.”
'This shit is unreal', I thought, almost aloud, but she must have read my mind.
“No, Master, this is very real, and I am the answer to your dreams and desires.”
“Now, I gotta admit that you are all that, and more, but how did this happen? I haven't rubbed any magic lamps, lately, or wished on any stars since I was a kid”, I said to the erotic fireball standing before me.
“I am your slave, your lover, friend, house mouse, whatever you wish, Master.”
I was starting get shaky. This was all too good to be true. I had to go, and this was as good a time as any!”Look, honey, I've got to hit the road”, I said.
“I understand, and I'll be waiting,” Sherry replied to me, very matter-of-factly.
“Later, babe,” as I slung my leg across my seat. Sherry rubbed my stubbly face and kissed my cheek, and I cranked my sled and rode away.
Now, I'm not overly religious, but I was thinking, 'Lord, just what was that all about?' I figured it had been dumb luck on my part, my finding a hot tamale like that at just the right time, the right place, and all. Who knows? The highway was calling my name once again, and I was reading her loud and clear.
The sun was high in the middle of the day and the temperature was warm enough to wear leather and not be too hot, to me, anyway. This got me to thinking, 'Maybe I'll head down to the Gulf to see if Big Jim is still around.' Ol' Jim was a giant, hence, the name, and one of the best bros a man could ever hope for. Anything, any time, any place, this guy would take care of whatever needed taking care of. It wasn’t tourist, so I headed south. A plan without being a plan, what a plan! The Emerald Coast, here I come!
Man, it felt great to be rolling again. It seemed like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Funny, how people can get caught up in the grind, or get used to where they're at, at the time, and suffer through. I had to shake my head on that one. Checking my tank, it was about time for a gas stop, and I was getting thirsty. A few miles more and a small gas station and bait shop appeared to my left, with a beer sign!
After filling the tank, I grabbed a cold one and headed around back to the open patio. There was a lake nearby with a campground, boat dock, and a couple of beaches. 'It's a little cool for sunbathers,’ I thought, 'but I think I'll ride on down and have a look anyway, not having anywhere in particular to be.' After finishing my beer, I swung my leg across my scooter and sat for a few seconds, taking in the atmosphere. Nice place to disappear into, kinda like one of those mirages, or something. I still had a strange feeling, even though I had just shed a load that I'd been carrying for entirely too long. 'Just gonna take some getting used to,’ I thought to myself, 'Life couldn't be much better than it is right now.'
Bouncing down the neglected blacktop road, I caught myself smiling once again, screaming at the cows and horses, and having some silly fun. All you brothers out there know what I'm talking about, so don't try to think you're all badass and don't do shit like that! The road seemed to wind through the fields for an extra long way, to me anyway, but I finally did enter the park and lake area. It amazes me that you find the coolest places when you're not even looking, and some of the shit places when you are. The little old lady running the place took a look at me and told me to go on down, since very few people were there, no charge. She showed me where the showers and snack machines were and told me to enjoy myself. When I heartily thanked her, she patted me on the shoulder, and waved goodbye.
It didn't take long to set up camp. I picked a secluded spot not too far from the lake or the shower. I found a tree to lean against and stare out onto the water and dozed off for a few minutes, another one of those age related maladies, I suppose.
I was awakened by some splashing and giggling from the other side of the lake from where I was. There were two couples who had anchored their ski boat and were skinny dipping and having a large time. They were probaly in their late teens taking daddy's boat out for a romp. Certainly brought back some old memories, except for the two cuties that were there. They could have easily been model material, as far as I could see. ‘It's good to see kids having fun,’ I thought.
When you're out alone in the woods like this, you have a little time to reflect on things and I found myself doing this yet again. Where have I been, what have I done, who I've done, etc., etc. I have a few regrets, but nothing that hadn't been worked over, or through, as the case may be. I have acquired the company of some damn good, stand-up brothers, a nice running bike, a trade that I can use for work almost anywhere I want to go. What more is there?
Well, it was past dark and I was getting sleepy, so I turned in, figuring on a fairly early start towards the Gulf. The frogs and crickets sang a soft, hypnotic drone that carried me away.
At the shower house, I brushed my teeth and had my morning constitutional. I was ready to jam. Each day felt like the load I'd been carrying was easing off more and more. It was difficult to keep from smiling about Sherry, not that I wanted to. I was just beginning to appreciate life again. Still, there was something in the back of my head that seemed like a distant spectre, or a spirit, something I couldn't quite put a finger on. On the way out, I waved at the same little, old lady again.
Ah, the great state of Mississippi, what a place to pass through. If you take some of the back roads, you find a more realistic picture of this part of the country. The people were friendly and it seemed that every dog wanted to chase you. Maybe they're being friendly, too, in their dog ways. Naturally, the down home type restaurants want to make sure that you get enough to eat, almost to the point of trying to OD a man with groceries! You just don't find this kind of hospitality in your corporate establishments, right off most interstates. I made my way through the small part of southern Alabama, and right up ahead I saw a dilapidated, but obvious sign, WELCOME TO FLORIDA. Big Jim's place was only a few hours away at the pace I'd set.
I couldn't really remember how long it had been since my last Florida run, maybe five or six years ago, when we had business to attend to. The closer I got to Jim's town, I got even more excited about seeing old friends and making some new ones. We're not a very big organization, but people know who we are, and we both give respect, and are respected, where warranted, of course.
Yeah, I like it down here, but all those hurricanes and shit kinda freak me out. Plus, the tourist industry got out of hand in the last decade. Give me the back woods country living space any time.
I thought I was beginning to smell salt air, but it could have been the thrill of getting close to the coast and finding new adventures. I stopped for gas and some water and stretched my legs some. Not too long after stopping, in pulls the local gestapo. I was sitting in the shade and could feel his eyes burning a hole through me, as they said. “Whatcha doin' down this way, son,” he asked in his most official tone?
I shot back in my most official tone, “Well, first of all, I ain't your son, and secondly, I'm sitting here in the shade drinking this bottled water, minding my own business.”
“We don't like troublemakers, so you bes be watchin' yo' sef. Ah wrote them numbers down in mah book, here, ah'll be keepin' 'em close bah. So, jes drink up an' move on, ya hear,” he retorted?
“Oh, you bet, officer,” I said, “won't be here very long at all.” With this, he cocked his hat, like most cops do, rolled into the car, and scratched off for G.P., I supposed.I did make a note of the good officers name, 'Roland', to check with Jim and see what the deal was with this clown.
Since I was in the Sunshine State, I eased on down to Highway 98 to follow the Gulf beaches and see what I could see. Since it wasn't quite into the tourist season, there weren't too many people out, but I did see some major babes walking down the street. That's the kinda stuff that will make any man's mind wander, but I had places to go. Makes for nice scenery, though. I couldn't believe how much the area had developed since I'd last been there. Money talks, and bullshit walks, right?
Big Jim has a place in Washington county that is actually out in the country, away from all the hustle and bustle of the coast. My kind of place, but close enough to the action not to be too far removed. There were a couple of old stray dogs, that Jim was infamous for taking in, nipping at my pants leg as I rode up to the house. Obviously, they were used to bikes and bikers, and not afraid of the sound of my pipes.
Almost before I could I could get my kickstand fully extended, I looked up and barely caught the cold brew coming right at my head.
“I see ya still got your reflexes, ya ol' fart,” Jim yelled at me.
“And I can still get it up, ya young whippersnapper!” I yelled back. The feelings between two longtime brothers just can't be accurately put into words, and we both knew it was useless anyway, so after the breath robbing hugs, we sat down on the wide porch, and didn't say anything for a few minutes.
“Took your time getting here, didn't ya, bro?”
“Well, Jimmy”, I was the only one that could call him that and get away with it, “You know the court deal and everything else just kinda fucked my head up, so I just took my time, and how did you know I was coming, anyway?”
“I know you, and the brothers know you, and we've known each other forever… ya hungry? I can have Betsy make ya something.”
“No, man, I'm good for now, but thanks”, I said, ” but what do you know about an Officer Roland around Pensacola?”
“Oh, ya met our favorite wannabe crime watchdog, did ya? He's a trooper that gets off the beaten path every now and then, just to harass guys like you. who are from out of state. Nothing happened, did it,” Jim asked?
“No, it turned out just fine, but you never know about these things,” I said.
We talked about the last few years, the ups and downs, the bullshit with my ex, his wife and kids, who were almost the picture of perfection. Big Jim had somehow stumbled into a lucrative, and legal, business venture a while back.Since he was on the Emerald Coast, he and Betsy would ride along the sparkling, green water, taking in the sights and just relaxing. While stopped at bar one evening, he'd overheard an older man complaining about commercialism, the way things used to be, and that sort of thing. Evidently, the old salt was a seaman from the forties and got sick of the crowds and the type of crowds that had been infiltrating Florida the last several years. He had a deep sea fishing business, but was ready to quit. The two men talked for quite a while and came up with the idea of Jim running the business and giving Caspar a portion of the profits. This lasted for about three years when Caspar died leaving the business to Jim, complete with two boats and a fully equipped shop.
Jim was smart enough to reinvest in two more boats and really make some fairly large bank. He finally got a crew of men who loved the work and sea, and were trustworthy enough. Life was good. Perfect for an ol' scooter tramp.
After settling in, Betsy had outdone herself with the feast she'd prepared for her road and life-weary guest. She was starting to show her age some, but was still a fine looking woman. Big Jim had what, I believe, all men really want, but may be afraid to let their guard down and give a little. I felt more and more of those burdens being lifted from my shoulders, but something was bothering me and I couldn't quite put my finger on it.
It didn't take long for the trip, seeing my brother and his family, and the monsters in my head to take their toll. I couldn’t release Sherry’s image. I retired into the spare room and fell into a deep sleep.
I dreamed of the highway, the sea, women, and a few other things and places, some of which I recognized, some I'd never seen before. When I woke the next sunny morning, I could smell the coffee from my room. Boy, Jimmy sure has it made, he does. Following that smell, I found Betsy busying herself with kitchen chores and the youngest child. I grabbed a cup in one hand and a muffin in the other, leaning over giving Betsy a kiss on the cheek. 'Mornin', Sunshine!', she said, with her ever-bubbly personality and radiant smile.
“Hey, yourself, and thanks for everything, really”, I said to my lovely hostess.
“Oh, you're more than welcome, anytime and every time, Gramps. I know you've had it kinda rough, so you just make yourself at home, ok?” It wasn't a question, or an order, just a statement between family. “Jim wanted you to meet him at the Bar On The Bay when you get yourself together. He's at the dock taking care of a few things, and wants you to go on down there and relax till he gets there. Remember how to get there?”
“Why, of course dear,” I said. “Certainly the big guys wouldn't move a national landmark, would they?”
Betsy replied back, “It is under new management, and a few faces have changed, but it's still there in all it's glory!”
“Cool, and you'll be down later, right?”
“Yeah, I just need to tidy up and drop my little munchkin at a friends.”
“Well, OK, I'll see ya there, Betsy.” With this, I turned and went back to my room, cleaned up, grabbed my scuffed leather jacket, and took off.
It was still a little early, so the ride was damp and cool. My bike seemed to know just what I needed, responding at the slightest bit of throttle, leaning into the curves, sounding like the masterpiece that she was. 'I could get used to this,’ I thought to myself. 'Maybe someday…' My thoughts were drifting off once again.
It wasn't a terribly long time before I found the old haunt. A coat of paint, some new doors, but still the place was the same. The parking lot was empty, so I pulled into a spot right by the open, front door and plate glass window, for security. I hadn't been here in some time and didn't know exactly what to expect. Looking around, I patted the worn leather seat and went in.
I took off my dark prescription shades and stood in the middle of the bar for a minute, or two, letting my eyes adjust to the dimness. From the backroom, I heard a distinctly female voice call out, “Whatcha drinkin' there, cowboy?”
Without thinking, I called back, “Oh, something fermented and COLD, and get yourself one, if ya like.” I never heard my friends come into the bar, since I was fixed on the source of the voice from the back. A chill ran up my spine. Still becoming adjusted to the light, I saw a woman easing toward me with the brews. Maybe 5'5″, a little on the round side, almost busting out of her Wranglers. A form-fitting shirt and a bandanna tied loosely around her neck topped off the epitome of Florida country girl-ness. She had big tits, a big smile, and just a wide enough ass to make things interesting.
I heard some shuffling behind me and saw Big Jim, Betsy, and a couple of other bro's, I hadn't seen in a while, all grinning with that Cheshire cat kinda grin that comes from longtime brothers and family.
“How's it goin', Gramps,” Jim yelled at me? I took a hard drink from my beer and turned to the barmaid, “Well, you know my name, so what's yours, Sweetness?”
Laughing in a for real woman kinda laugh, she said, “My name's Sherry, and thanks for the beer, Gramps.”
