Comment at Aarons Motorcycle Homepage
Aaron's Motorcycle
By Remmy Meggs
Chapter 8
It was hard to get Aaron's attention when he was on a different subject. You just listened to him because you didn't have much of a choice. Listen or go someplace else. We hadn't really talked at all the last several days, not since the fight, either fight. So here we were looking at this old piece of crap car at the `custom' car and body shop. To me it looked like it was ready to be thrown out too.
Since everything there was old I really didn't have much to look at. I kept thinking `well Aaron is old too, but he is easier to look at.' That didn't help much. So he talked to the owner of the shop while I dusted a place off his junker and leaned against it. I was hoping no one I knew would see me, but then again why would I see them?
The owner took us over to where they had pulled the engine and transmission out of the car. I have to admit seeing the engine all over the floor and counter was sort of cool. I didn't really know what a transmission was about until later; it looked like something out of a space movie. You just put a star background up and with wires move the thing around and it would make a nice spaceship. It even had its own gun ports, exhaust and hyper drive built-in. I think they used one in a Star trek movie several years later. I should have been paid for that idea.
I was bored out of my mind. I wanted to grab him, pull him out of there, get on the motorcycle, and go to the park and talk. I was tired of being brushed aside. Just as I was really getting upset this car pulls in front of the store. I didn't know what it was when I saw it, but it was a 1949 Plymouth two-seater coup. It looked better than new I am sure. Candy apple blue? Do they make candy apples in blue? Chrome exhaust pipes on the outside going to the back and a historical license plate. I don't think they made them look this good in the old days.
The owner got out of the car and walked inside. The owner started talking with the man and I went and looked inside the car. It was one of those cars that were too pretty to be driving in. Aaron stepped over to me, "What do you think of it bud?"
"It's nice but not very useful for everyday." I said.
"That's because it's not for everyday. This is a show car. Ours won't be this nice on the outside, I don't think anyway, but the inside should look good."
I almost asked `how can you make a tank look good?' but kept my mouth shut. He told me that the owners shop rebuilt the Plymouth we were looking at. I looked at the shop again. There were several people who worked there, but they didn't seem to be in any hurry to actually work.
He took hold of my shoulder, "Davy you seem to be really upset at me lately. Have I done something wrong?"
I shrugged my shoulders. I couldn't really say there was, because I was over the fights but then again I really needed to tell him how I felt. "Maybe we can go to the park and talk later." I answered.
The owner of the shop and the car owner came out to us and began talking `car' talk. I guess if you are into a car that is great. They talked about cars, motorcycles, engines, a `four speed Hurst' – whatever that was. Finally I just said "I am real hungry. Can we go eat?"
If I would have said anything else I would have been ignored. That got his attention and even though it took him another five minutes to say goodbye to them, we got on his motorcycle and left. We went to a fast food place that had the best burgers in town – charbroiled. He ordered us both the same thing at the counter. Then he went and found us a place to sit while I got cokes for us.
It was cool in the restaurant and I was thirsty from standing out in the sun so long. He looked at me with that smirk, "What color should we have it painted?"
"I don't know. But I know if you have black it will be really hot inside and the same with the seats. I heard dad tell my mom that." I said.
They called our number and Aaron picked it up and brought it back. When he sat, we divided up the food. I already took my first bite when he started praying right inside the restaurant. I looked around to see if anyone was looking, and they were. When he finished he began eating. After a couple of bites he spoke again, "Well we really have to decide. I thought I might like candy apple red, but all the rebuilt cars seem to have that or some type of flames all over them. Then I thought about blue similar to what that Plymouth had on it, but I don't think it would look so hot on a '57 Chevy."
"What about a bright yellow? They could put that gold flake stuff in it." I spoke not really knowing what gold flake was. It was something one of the guys in the motorcycle club talked about.
Aaron looked at me quizzically, "That is not a bad idea. I would have to see what the gold flake looked like with yellow, but a racing yellow and maybe gold flake trim could look nice if it was done right. I like that Davy. What about the interior?"
"Could it be white maybe, with yellow trim?" I asked.
"Leather or fabric?"
"Well if we have a dog, it would need to be leather so it wouldn't get hair all over it and stick. Without a dog fabric would be cooler I think." I really had no idea what I was talking about. It was just things I had heard others say, "Do you really like my idea about the paint?"
"It was a better idea than mine! At least your idea won't look like everything else out there." He smiled.
I grinned, "I am glad you like it."
"Well if we are going to be riding around in it, it has to be classy." He began eating again.
Finally I had to say it, "Aaron I am sorry if I upset you with this, but how do you think you are going to make that old tank you bought look like a super car?"
Instead of getting upset he grinned, "Because you are going to make sure it looks sharp! What good is it if I have it rebuilt for me, when it belongs to both of us?"
I thought that was nice but really it wasn't my car. Yet over the next few days I started taking more interest in his project. I really didn't think he would actually paint it yellow, but only time would tell. After we finished eating we stood up to leave when he saw several policemen looking at his motorcycle.
I looked at him questioningly, "Aaron? Are they after you?"
He frowned, "I have no idea." He wrote a phone number on a napkin and handed it to me, "If they take me call that number right away. It's dad's office. They will come and pick you up and take care of me. Don't explain anything, just tell them the police took me and you are stranded, dad will take care of everything, I hope."
We went outside and were standing near the three policemen, "Can I help you?" Aaron asked.
"We were just admiring the bike. I just bought an engine and saw yours as we were driving by. It must have cost a fortune for all that fiberglass work." The officer said and then he added, "Is it yours?"
Aaron grinned, "Yes sir, well it belongs to both of us, sort of. Legally it's my father's."
The man wanted to see his registration, proof of insurance and driver's license, "Not that you have done anything wrong, it is standard to run checks on people." He came back and handed Aaron the paperwork. I was half wrapped around Aaron and he had his hand on my head, "This is your little sister?"
Aaron sighed, "My brother, I mean my friend. He is like a little brother to me."
"Well you two take care, we will leave you in peace, and that is one hell of a motorcycle. You should be proud."
I was ready to wet my pants. Aaron knew I was shaking. When they were out of earshot he said, "Settle down now, everything is fine. You never know when they are going to find a reason to take you in. Usually it is just for harassment, this time it was just because of the bike."
He started the bike and pulled me in front of him, and we left carefully so the police would not have a reason to bust him. He drove to the park, and for a Saturday afternoon it seemed vacant. We walked over to a picnic table and sat. He looked at me. "Davy I need to know what is bothering you, because you are starting to scare me."
So I told him everything. Finally he took the time to listen. I did not leave anything out, and an hour later I finished. He looked at me the entire time. I squirmed, got upset, settled down, stood up and walked around several times, but he listened and he watched me every second. When I was done he hung his head, and his hands were shaking.
I felt bad for saying everything now that I saw him react that way, but I had to say it. I am not sure he cried, but he wiped his eyes a couple of times before he looked up at me. "I didn't realize I was that bad, I mean hurting you like that. It's not your fault but I am still working through this. You haven't done anything wrong to me or anyone else. I have to take the blame for my actions. I do see a doctor a few times a week, you are helping me, but I guess you can't see it, yet anyway."
He looked around and then looked back at me, "I can't promise I can do everything you want, anytime you want, such as fighting. I do promise to listen. I think you are jealous too. I heard that slip that in a couple of times. Understand Davy, there is a difference between having a best friend, sex, and love. Each one is different, and ya I guess sometimes they can be all three, at least that's what they want us to believe, but they are all different. We are best friends. That doesn't mean we have sex. I hope you understand what I am saying. I am sorry I didn't sit down with you and talk this out before now. I didn't know you were bothered so much over it. Now I see that even though I gave you attention it wasn't what you needed. I do care about you though. I care deeply. That is why I would rather have you with me than be anywhere else."
When older people talk, you have to translate to real language. Then you have to disassemble it and figure out exactly what they are saying. It's not like on the playground where you grew up and everyone knows what you are talking about. It took time for me to register the implications of what he was saying.
So I asked him, and he replied, "Of course I love you. I don't think you need to see me screwing a girl though." He replied.
I have to think about that, but I am happier than I was and I got the feeling that he would at least think about doing bad stuff if I said something. He would have to decide which was more important. If he kept doing bad things we would have to talk more. So I think I accomplished something, I hoped I did. Only time would tell if I got through to him. He didn't even have to be screwing girls, he could spend that time with me. I had to wonder how long it took to screw a girl.
He rubbed his eyes again and smiled at me, "You sure are shorter than I thought, are you getting smaller?"
I frowned, "No you are getting taller, and you have big feet too. We need to go shopping."
"We can't go shopping on the motorcycle. We would look stupid carrying bags all the way from the mall to the house. That would be embarrassing. Let's get out of here before the gang shows up." He said, and then as we met at the end of the table he put his arm around my back and his hand on my shoulder, "Give me time, I will work all of it out. Asking dad for one of the cars to go shopping may be a problem. They will probably want to drive us and that is just as embarrassing."
His mom drove us to the mall. She stopped by my house so I could get a credit card, and she gave one to Aaron as well. Then she parked the car at the mall and went in with us. I was hoping she didn't want to hold our hands as we walked in. Thankfully she didn't, but she made it obvious to anyone nearby that we were with her. Making sure we understood the rules and when to meet her.
I never understood how you could put a time limit on shopping. You go in pick out what you wanted and then you were done. Of course we were at Macy's and I didn't take into consideration that they would want me to try on everything, to see if they liked it. I thought that was strange since it was mom's credit card.
It didn't stop there. They were both picking out clothes for me. They picked designer jeans, riding boots and a leather riding jacket. I saw the price of that and knew dad would kill me. It seems the pants were either too large or too small. They had size 10's and 12's but no 11's that would fit me. Aaron's mom decided I would grow into them like Aaron did. I didn't own a belt so that was the next step.
Then Aaron went shopping and his mom left us to go see the dress shop and other stores. When Aaron finished he was happy. Then we went to the music store. I wasn't really into the music scene so Aaron picked out six tapes. I don't remember the name of them, just the music. When I asked him what they were for he said, "So we have music in the car when we want it." I thought that a radio would be just as good, but he insisted, "Why buy a new tape player for the car if we don't use it?"
I could hardly imagine putting new gadgets in a junk heap. As usual I said nothing. Whatever Aaron had planned for this car, in his mind it was wonderful. When everyone finished shopping his mom drove us to the car painting place. Aaron and I told him our ideas, but the man gave us other options. "How about painting the car a burnt orange interior with yellow highlights? It won't show dirt as much. Then we can paint the top and hood, down to the chrome with yellow, and under the chrome on from orange to the burnt orange. We can put the gold leaf on the fins between the two chrome borders?"
I wondered what chrome he was talking about but didn't say anything. Aaron wasn't so sure about the colors and honestly neither was I. When Aaron told him the guy brought out a model car just like Aaron had. I was like so that is what it was supposed to look like. Aaron pointed out that you couldn't paint the cloth top yellow. It was a convertible.
The man snickered, "We will use a bright yellow waterproof material and make the paint the same color."
Ok now we were talking. While we talked this expert painter used a tiny spray gun, with no tape, and painted the inside and the outside of the car the colors he was talking about. Aaron and I looked at each other and grinned. It was perfect. He told the man it was what we wanted. The guy told Aaron the price and I about fainted, "We will have the tow truck bring it over once the engine and transmission are finished. The frame has been rebuilt, and instead of putty, if body work needs to be done, I would rather have metal welded in and sanded. If there is any fill work, please use fiberglass, it will last."
Being around Aaron I learned a lot about fiberglass and his motorcycle. If the car looked as good as that it wouldn't be too bad. Of course I had no idea where this chrome was coming from, but that was included in the price. The price was over half the cost of a new car. That didn't include the new tires and the wheels, whatever was being spent on the frame, engine and transmission. I never found out what the price was on that stuff. So whatever Aaron was spending of his dad's money on he could have had a new car, but not Aaron.
The school year seemed to go very slow, but the weekends were filled with fun at the beach, riding around on one of the coolest bikes around. Playing sports with the club and swimming was a big thing. There were nights when Aaron wasn't to be found, he made no excuses and I didn't ask for any, at least he let me know he wouldn't be picking me up.
My homework improved. With my new freedom my grades were important suddenly, and I was actually studying. Then came the last day of school, I looked at my temporary report card and jumped around like a pogo stick. I waited out front of the school for Aaron to pick me up. I waited more. Most the kids were still standing around, and the buses seemed stalled.
I was starting to worry when I heard a low purr coming down the street. It wasn't Aaron's motorcycle at all. Then I saw the car. With the top down, music playing, he drove slowly past the buses. He parked the car where the parents picked up their kids. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Neither could anyone else believe what they saw. Everyone started gathering around the car as I walked with disbelieving eyes toward it, my mouth had dropped open at some point.
Power windows, power steering, power brakes, power locks, everything was powered. The car looked brand new. Well it was brand new. There was not a pit in it. Aaron got out of the car and went to the passenger's side and made a big deal out of it. He smiled and looked at me, "Davy, your car awaits you."
I stepped into the vehicle and he closed the door. He went to the driver's side while everyone asked if it was my car. I promptly answered, "It is our car."
Aaron smiled and slowly backed up and took off at a slow pace. "Aaron, why are you driving so slowly?" I asked.
He watched the road and answered, "With a super car like this, there is no reason to show off. It does that on its own. Besides they can't see the occupants if we drive fast. I want them to know it belongs to us."
To me the car was not as nice as his motorcycle, but it had the same style of mag wheels on it and tires. "I told your mom we were going to show off for awhile. She said she understood. So we are going all over town. Now remember, the bike makes it seem like we are speeding, so the car will seem slow to you compared to that, but I am doing the speed limit."
We went all over town, just like we did each weekend with the bike. We slowly drove through every burger joint, around the schools, especially the high schools. We went around the parks several times. We stopped and talked to hundreds of people. Of course Aaron talked about the car, I talked about getting a straight `A's in school, for me it was a first.
We started driving to his house and he turned to me, "You want to spend the weekend?"
I shot back, "Together or with the club and your girlfriends?"
"I meant just the two of us. After all," he said as he handed me the title to the car, "We have our own car and a nice bike. We have a credit card and we can do what we want."
I grinned and nodded, "Can we go to my house so I can show my dad and mom my report card and the title? They won't believe you put my name on it. They are not going to believe I got straight `A's either."
He stopped the car, "Let me see that report card." He looked it over closely to see that it wasn't doctored up. Then he turned to me and hugged me, "You rock bro! Of course we will go to your house. You have to get ready for camping and swimming. Your parents will want to see the car, especially your report card, and have you check in since they won't see you for a week. Well unless they see us out someplace."
Every time we stopped people would come and look at the car. They would get disappointed when Aaron pulled away from them. A week with Aaron all to myself, a new car that I owned part of, and `A's on my report card. What a way to start the summer. I looked at him, "Thanks, I love you."