Page 73 of Rewrites of the Heart

“I sure hope they don’t plan to come in here,” he said, “I don’t need that kind tearing up the place.”

A sea of black leather flooded the sidewalk. Tight-fitting chaps, leather vests, black T-shirts. It appeared that every single inch of the sidewalk was covered by this costumed group.

Then, in what appeared to be a well-rehearsed synchronized motion, the group pulled off their helmets.

“Ooh!” “Wow!” “Oh, my goodness.” Disbelief and shock bubbled throughout the café as everyone caught their first glimpse of the faces of the motorcycle gang. White hair, white beards, white mustaches contrasted sharply with the black of the apparel. A few women were in the group, but most of them were gray as well. Only one or two of them were young enough to still have color in their hair.

“They’re old people,” a student commented. “Do you think there’s one of them who’s younger than sixty-five?”

“They’re too old to be riding those things,” someone else said.

“What a waste of a good machine,” said another.

The sea of black leather and white hair began to swirl, like eddies on an ocean. The cyclists formed small groups, greeting each other, mingling, exchanging handshakes and high fives.

After several minutes, the eddies coalesced into a tide, headed straight for the coffee shop’s door.

“Oh my! They’re coming in here!” Immediately the customers ran back to their seats. The shop bristled with the sound of papers rustling, books closing and backpacks zipping. Most of them wanted out—as quickly as possible.

****

Alex beat Blake to the booth, and they both watched in fascination as the overage gang strode into the shop. Alvin hastily returned to the register, barely beating the first of the group to the counter.

“What an interesting phenomenon,” Blake said.

Alex couldn’t take her eyes off the bikers, as some lined up to place orders, while others went to secure seating.

Slowly, as orders were filled, the cascade of bikers filtered throughout the café, joining others at tables already claimed or looking for available booths, tables, or counter spaces.

Finally with every space filled, one couple was left. They wandered past Blake and Alex’s booth unable to find a place to sit, he carrying the drinks and the order number placard.

“Excuse me, sir,” Blake said as they passed, “you’re more than welcome to join us if you’d like.” Alex passed him a quick do-you-know-what-you’re-doing glance. He nodded confidently in return.

The gentleman had a thick white head of hair, immediately giving the impression he was at least in his sixties. But his eyes shone a brilliant steel blue and his face, nearly wrinkle-free except for a few laugh lines around his eyes, making it difficult to determine his age. He nodded in reply and then deferred to his younger female companion.

His companion—much younger than he—was dressed in clunky black boots, snug black leather pants, a tight V-neck shirt, and a leather jacket. Alex thought she looked like a biker chick. Of course, she wasn’t quite sure she knew what one looked like, having never encountered one before.

She did wonder, though, if this female had been poured into her outfit, sighing as she admitted she looked molten-lava hot. She darted her eyes in Blake’s direction to assess his reaction. Wide-eyed, he stared open-mouthed.Was he actually drooling?

The amply endowed female had her hands shoved in the pockets of the jacket. Waving the jacket open and closed, she said, “I’d love to.”

The man slid in next to Blake, placing his number on the table, and placed the woman’s drink in front of her. The woman took Alex’s side of the booth.

“Garrett,” the biker immediately announced, “Garrett Shepherd. This is Rain.” Garrett shook hands with Blake while Alex and Rain did the same.

“What an interesting name, Rain,” Alex said.

“It’s actually an acronym for all my names.” She shrugged off her leather jacket and let it fall between her and the booth. “It stands for Renee April Indigo Nevada.”

“Oh, uhm, different,” Blake commented. Alex gently kicked his leg.

“I love it,” Alex said, sipping on her quark flavored proton smoothie, a blend of kiwi and strawberry.

“Yeah, my parents were fascinated with the hippie life, even though they were a little young for it. They missed that whole scene by quite a few years. You might describe them as free spirits. So, they gave me a unique-sounding group of names. I turned it into Rain.”

“Sounds like you might enjoy that free-spirit attitude yourself,” Blake said.

“Well, I must admit, I like surprising people. I enjoy breaking stereotypes.”

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