Raw Deal

by Bella Knight

  "Can I work graveyard?" asked Dee. "Can't sleep anyway."

  "Half the time, me either," said Bonnie. "Let's get some dinner, and then go back and learn how to unbox and lay out parts, why don't we?" Ghost smiled at Killa. That's exactly how they both got started. Bonnie showed Dee around the shop, and showed her where to stow her duffel, and they all went out for barbecued sandwiches. Ghost and Killa coudn't let Bonnie have all the fun, so they came back for an hour and a half with them, until Bonnie shooed them out.

  Dee paid attention to everything with a laser-sharp focus. "Bonnie, will there be more of us?"

  "Yes," she said.

  "So, wouldn't it be good to videotape this?"

  "Alright," said Bonnie. "Now you're thinking. Wish I'd thought of it."

  Dee adjusted her cell phone, and then asked to use Bonnie's much newer one. "Got pulverized by a slipped engine block," Bonnie said about her old phone. "Damn thing. Now I have to learn to use a lot more apps and buttons. Spend some time on YouTube finding out what does what, and deleting stuff I don't need."

  Dee watched Bonnie check off boxes on a list, take out the parts and custom-painted gas tanks and fenders, and check the chrome. Every bike was set up, parts ready, in a certain order, engine block first on a mount, then parts added, bit by bit, with gas tanks either painted there or custom painted.

  "This orange baby is going to be a flame-red-and-orange trike," Bonnie said, putting it farthest away on the table from the mounted engine block. "We start this one tonight, I hope." The tools were in rolling boxes with drawers of red and black metal, and chrome. "Thousands of dollars of tools in each one. We got lucky. Your kit," she pointed to a box, "we got used. Danny retired. We got three full sets. We counted 'em, cleaned 'em up, replaced one or two, bought missing ones. But, Danny was king for a long time. His hands are for shit now; he's going to Florida with his granddaughter. Our loss and our gain. Can still call him if I get stuck sometimes." She pointed to a phone number on the wall. "You can't get ahold of me, Ghost, or Killa, you call Danny in Florida." Dee dutifully took a shot of the number. "Now, let's go over the parts of a trike." They kept at it, with breaks, until three in the morning, Bonnie teaching, Dee recording.

  Once home, and unable to sleep, Dee used Bonnie's laptop to edit the videos, splice them, and put them back together with music. She'd created training videos in the army. Dee heard Staff Sergeant Chates screaming in her ear as she remembered how she broke down her equipment and put it back together. "Automating processes is the key to speed and success." She took those words to heart.

  They got effusive emails back from the other two women. Bonnie sent out a call for help, and First Lieutenant Yasmine "Jaz" Jiminez was picked up by one of the Valkyries, then handed off via a series of female truckers and Valkyries, all the way from rural Idaho to Las Vegas. Herja picked her up in Reno and got her to Vegas. Jaz had snapping black eyes, black hair in a complicated braid down her back, an oval face, and a too-large nose, that had been broken several times. She was just a hair taller than Dee. The women didn't know each other, but after speaking in acronyms for a few minutes, they seemed to be sisters.

  "Let me show you the video," said Dee. "Give me your email address, and we'll do the mail call, together."

  Jaz watched the video about accepting packages, and she grabbed the clipboard and checked off the boxes. She rehung the clipboard, grabbed a box cutter, and carefully opened the boxes and placed their content according to Bonnie's directions. The other videos were better, because Ajai had left Dee her video camera. Dee and Jaz slowly put together the rest of the orange-and-red trike, with Bonnie pointing things out, and Ghost coming over to put in her perfect welds.

  "Gotta work up to those," said Dee.

  Jaz was psyched. She kept bouncing on the balls of her feet. She'd had far too many colas on the road, and she was ready to go.

  Herja was stone-cold furious at Bonnie, with snapping eyes. She finally rounded on Bonnie. "You start this, and don't tell us? You think we wouldn't want to be a part of it? Help our sisters, too?"

  Bonnie stood her ground. "Valkyries got a Nico to buy an apartment house for them? 'Cause that's what it takes."

  "Wait, we got apartments?" asked Dee, confused. "Then why am I sleeping on your couch?"

  "'Cause the title ain't back yet," said Ghost. "An' the place is a fucking wreck. Be lots of work."

  "Can we see it?" asked Jaz.

  "Don't see why not," said Bonnie.

  The new arrivals rode on the backs of Bonnie and Herja's bikes, while Ghost and Killa stayed to finish the bikes. Once there, they saw that the fence already had an opening, and that Nico and the Wolfpack were there in moon suits and hard hats filling up a large dumpster.

  Ajai trotted over. "These them?" she asked.

  "One of ours, Ajai," said Bonnie. Ajai, meet Dee and Jaz." They waved at her.

  "We got the title fast, once Nico explained that veterans were going to be living there," said Ajai.

  "Can we help?" asked Jaz.

  Nico came over, and heard the last question. "Damn straight, but only when I'm here. Go over there, the hard hats and moon suits are required. Had squatters here and they made one hell of a mess." He looked at Bonnie. "I'll feed them lunch and dinner and get them back on time."

  "See that they eat," said Bonnie. "Or I'll kick all your asses."

  "Yes, Ma'am," said Ajai. "Walk the fence around the corner," she said to Jaz and Dee.

  "Well, fuck," said Bonnie. "Done lost my charges."

  Herja rounded on Nico. "We need the same thing in Pahrump," she said. "I'll be opening my garage for the same thing, help our sisters there."

  "Online auction," said Nico. "Let me show you how to do it. Housing's a little cheaper there." He pulled out his cell phone, and Herja pulled hers out.

  Herja rounded on Bonnie. "While he's pulling that shit up, I'm still stone-cold furious with you, Bonnie. You knew we had a garage. Why the hell didn't you think to tell us about this?"

  Bonnie raised her hands in surrender. "Went from an idea to being off the ground in four days," she said. "Seriously, I was too busy starting us up to think about others who could help. My bad."

  Herja pointed a finger at her. "Don't let it happen again." She swung back to Tito. "What's that website?"

  They exchanged information, then Herja elected to stay and help with the cleanup while Bonnie went back to send Ghost home to work on her miniatures, as they'd gotten way ahead with Bonnie working with Dee half the night.

  Dee and Jaz followed Ajai and Willow. "Suit up," said Willow, handing out the "moon suits."

  They donned them, and were soon sweating in the plastic. They went inside, and used brooms and dustpans, or shovels to load detritus into (either) bags or directly into a dumpster. There was plaster falling off the walls, holes smashed into walls by fists or feet, and nasty things, like urine-soaked mattresses and used needles. The needles they put in a red medical waste container.

  "This sucks," said Jaz. "Tell me again why we're doing this?"

  "This is gonna be our home," said Dee. "Two-bedroom apartments. Bonnie told me there would be six females, and that we'd be sharing apartments."

  "Pretty good-sized ones," said Jaz. "Hope to get my own someday, free and clear, like a condo."

  "Here is expensive," said Dee. "Bakersville is in California, too expensive. Maybe a small town."

  "Small towns have shops," said Jaz, grunting as she scooped up fallen plaster with a shovel. "Sometimes with apartments over them."

  "As long as it's not a studio, I'll take it," said Dee. "I like to cook. Need me a kitchen."

  "Works for me," said Jaz. "How is it, taking apart old bikes, putting them back together, and selling them?"

  "We don't do that yet," said Dee. "We're finishing off the trike orders. Killa and Ghost do custom trikes from kits. They add, remove, or paint parts, and put it all together. The kits are expensive, but Harley people love custom bikes, so they make a profit, and keep the gara
ge running. They do them to order, have a nice specialty business. We'll be purchasing old or dead bikes for ourselves and putting them back together from our cut of the profits. We get some from every trike we help put together. eBay has a Harley project page online, so we can refurbish custom bikes as projects and sell them online, too. Some people even start projects and can't or don't want to finish them. If we do that, we can buy one for a few thousand and sell it for twice that, or more."

  Jaz smiled. "Profit. I likey. Keeps me in an airconditioned apartment in summer, and lots of food, maybe some dancing once or twice a week."

  "The cool thing is, we can work all night, sleep all day, or whatever, whenever. Our own hours. As long as we work smart, we can do well." Dee shoveled her way into a corner, then started scooping toward the other wall.

  "I am so fucking glad they opened up a women's version of this," said Jaz. "I was behind, like, ten guys."

  "The list got smaller," said Dee, "Due to suicide. They got thirty guys killing themselves a month, in Alabama alone."

  "Shit," said Jaz. "We gotta get guys here, too."

  "We'll talk to Bonnie," said Dee. "But, we women need to stick together."

  "Abso-fucking-lutely," said Jaz. They bumped gloved fists.

  An Iron Knight in rural Indiana picked up Sargeant Gina "G" Yates on his bike, and drove her all the way to Indianapolis to pick up a bus. Yates had dark skin, a round face, huge chocolate eyes that missed nothing, and constantly wiggled a foot. She was there in three days. She caught an Uber to the garage, and was surprised to find no other soldiers there.

  "Dee be at da 'partment house," said Ghost.

  "We get an apartment?" asked G.

  "Sho' nuff," said Killa. "But it ain't finished yet. Put ya duffel in da office, an' let me show you 'round the shop. Bonnie, she be sleepin' in. She works graveyard wit Dee. Dee be sleepin' on her recliner. Jaz be sleepin' on our recliner when we home." She took a key out of her pocket, then put it on a lanyard, and handed it to G.

  G took it, amazed. "We can work all three shifts?" asked G. "'Cause I'm having trouble sleeping."

  "Guess so," said Ghost. "Days, you be workin' wit me 'an Killa. Swing you be workin' half wit us, half wit Bonnie, so dat be good, too. Graves you be workin' wit Bonnie. Jaz works swing. She an' Dee be workin' cleanin' up da apartment house. You be sleepin' on an air mattress in our house while ya waitin'. Dat apartment house be a mess."

  "Be good to do both," said G. "Guess swing sounds good."

  "Baby, you show G roun' an’ den we be takin' a break an' gettin' some Sonic," said Ghost to Killa. "I want me some cheese sticks."

  "Be good," said Killa. She showed G around, then G rode behind Ghost to get the food. They dropped her off at the work site.

  Jaz came out to meet her. "Girl," she said. "What took you so long? We were waiting on you. Glove up," she said, thrusting work gloves at her.

  "Yes, Lieutenant," said G. She put them on, then put on the tool belt thrust at her.

  "This is our apartment building," said Jaz. "We're gonna live here. Cleanup took for-fucking ever. We're on demo, today. Ever swung a sledgehammer?"

  "Can't say that I have," said G. "Today is a good day to try."

  "I like you," said Jaz. "We'll get along great."

  On their dinner break, they sat around, exhausted. Dee showed her the Harley Projects eBay site, and an auction site for dead or damaged bikes.

  "What's our budget?" asked G.

  Nico overheard their conversation and came over. He handed her a refillable Visa card. "This is a thousand dollars. You all come here every day we're here and we have something for you to do. If you can help with refurbishing your own damn house, you get another one at the end of the job."

  "That's a deal," said G. All three women shook hands on the deal. "Lou," she said to Jaz, short for Lieutenant. "Any of these you've been eyeing?"

  "I'm just a grunt," said Dee. "But, I took the liberty of researching the prices and availability of parts. I also scouted the junkyards here. We could get these three. All are small enough for women. They'll be our own bikes, the project bikes, and none of them cost that much. We'll have to borrow two trucks from the Iron Knights, but we could get these two in Phoenix and this one in Cedar City. Or one truck, with a trailer."

  "Who the fuck are the Iron Knights?" asked G. "Oh," she said, answering her own question. "The guy that picked me up and brought me to catch the bus said he was an Iron Knight. Another motorcycle club."

  "The all-female one is the Valkyries. They're badass," said Jaz. "And the Nighthawks are Bonnie's crew, we work on the same grounds as their clubhouse."

  Dee said, "It's not required, but I suggest we join one of them when we get our bikes. And, I like the black one in Phoenix."

  "I'll take the red one in Cedar City," said Jaz.

  "Then it's the blue in Phoenix for me," said G. "Nico, are you an Iron Knight?"

  "No, but I know whose truck you can borrow," he said. "Go ahead and buy those bikes." So, they did.

  On Monday when the shop was closed, Bonnie went on her bike, with Dee on the back. G drove and Jaz kept the sodas and snacks flowing. They managed to get all three bikes on the same extended flatbed, and took their time getting back. They put the bikes in the garage, and began ordering parts online for them. They went out the next Monday after the purchase of three more bikes, this time to refurbish and sell. They were still under budget, by a hair.

  Work It

  Ace walked through the apartment house, ready to finish the built-in bookcases in the last two apartments. "Thanks for helping," said Nico.

  "David's kid spiked a fever last night, so severe that the kid had to be hospitalized."

  "No problem," said Ace. "Gotta finish this off." They walked past Willow and Dee, who were wielding paint rollers in moon suits in the kitchen. Jaz and G filled up the kitchen counter with dishes, laid out lining mats, then started filling them up.

  Nico got more helpers than they could handle, and had to run three shifts at the apartment house. The VA sent over lots of willing hands, as well as Iron Knights and Valkyries. They set up lights and heaters on a generator, and work ran much faster than the timeline allowed. Suppliers rushed orders to keep up, especially after they heard that the apartment house would be housing for veterans. The double-paned glass manufacturer ran a night shift to get the glass ready. Framers, electricians, pipefitters, tilers, cabinetmakers, and more. They all volunteered their time.

  Nico was stunned to find the bill going down and the project speed up, simultaneously. Consignment and used appliance stores were raided a full two weeks before they were supposed to even begin hanging drywall, let alone picking out furniture.

  Sergeant Ashley "Ash" Ratha, of New York, a woman with a cap of curly blonde hair, blue eyes, and a ready smile; Corporal Truly Vicansa from Alabama, a black woman with a narrow face and very muscular arms and legs; and Major Quinn "Q" Wonjovic, a razor-thin, tall, brown-haired woman, with whiskey eyes from Illinois. They were next.

  They came by the bike relay organized by the Valkyries and Iron Knights. They were inserted into the homes of Valkyries, after being apprised of the danger caused by La Leoparda.

  Ash just nodded. "Some people are too dangerous," she said. "I've still got a sidearm, so we can hold the line," she said.

  Truly nodded. "We've got this," she said. "We'll work and guard in shifts." And, they did.

  The first two apartments were finished, and they all moved in en masse, helping to complete the rest. The Iron Knights added on to their garage, and raised money for more equipment so that their own Bonnie, Keith, and his assistant (Ray) could do the same thing there, for men. The money poured in, and they sent some of the money to Pahrump to help the Valkyries with Herja's garage there, and bought junked bikes for both Keith and Bonnie's garages.

  The apartment house filled with voices and laughter; half men and half women. With two per apartment, six apartments, for twelve veterans in total. Truckloads of donated
furniture came in; they sold what they couldn't use at consignment shops to fund purchasing more bikes. Donated bikes started coming in; most of them went to Pahrump for reconditioning, but some stayed in Las Vegas. Most were sold by insurance companies after the bikes had been totaled, then bought for a few hundred dollars, then donated to the ex-military bikers by veteran groups or concerned citizens.

  They completed project after project, each team member responsible for building or refurbishing their own bikes, as well as reconditioning bikes to sell. All three clubhouses --Valkyries, Iron Knights, and Nighthawks, were filled to the brim. Many of the soldiers preferred the more relaxed pace of the Nighthawks as opposed to the Iron Knights, who loved skydiving and dangerous hikes, and Valkyries, who loved fighting with the Society for Creative Anachronism, and with each other.

  They took their first joint spring ride when each vet had reconditioned his or her own bike and had gotten their motorcycle licenses. After several short trips to Lake Mead, they went to Cedar City, and visited the Grand Staircase-Escalante National Monument to Hanksville. They saw hills, deserts, and the backdrop of the Utah Mountains. They took it easy through the short sections of gravel. They camped, fished, and hiked. Some were crazy enough to wade and swim in streams and lakes, ice-cold with winter runoff; it was barely spring. The Valkyries fought each other with swords, and bets were made. Herja they didn't bet on; she always won.

  The soldiers loved every minute, climbing on everything, hiking everywhere, the best at putting up and breaking down tents, and at cleaning fish. Even the quietest ones talked, laughed, exchanged funny or hair-raising stories. "Remember when..." came up a lot, with tales of tea offered in the loneliest provinces. There was talk of horrible imitation pizza, and the ground the soldiers would cover to get it, and of friends found and friends lost. The non-veterans went to bed early; the stories made them wince, hold back tears, or stare off into space with grief.