by Debra Kayn
When her glass was empty, Ellen handed the cup to Sarah. “Pour me a little more, dear.”
Sarah filled the glass halfway, carried it back to her, and sat on the couch without saying a word.
“After a few years of riding the countryside with the makeshift oddballs we called family, I got pregnant.” She laughed. “Gunner was beside himself. Promised to buy us a house, get a job, and become a respectable citizen.”
Ellen shook her head. “We ended up renting a place for five years, but the road called him back every chance he got. That man loved his bike and the freedom he got from riding.
“I stayed home with our son, but weird things started to happen. I’d go to get a glass out of the cupboard and drop it. I’d play catch with the boy and miss the ball. You know how this disease is, one minute you’re fine, and the next your muscles don’t work.”
Sarah nodded.
“I went to the doctor, and after all the tests came back he gave me a clear picture of what my future looked like. It would have killed Gunner to stay home with me, and our son was getting old enough to tag along on the rides.” She waved her hand in the air. “I made the decision to leave them. I didn’t want to be a burden, and there is so much life out there on the road. I wanted them to live it, without them being saddled with a cripple.”
Ellen drank the rest of the drink and turned to Sarah. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Sarah nodded. “Yes, but I thought this would explain why Reefer made me come to you…”
“Dear Sarah…Reefer is my son.” The older woman’s gaze bore into hers.
Sarah caught her breath. She covered her mouth and shook her head in denial.
“It’s true. I’m afraid my son found out that I’m his mother and took it out on you.” She wheeled her chair closer.
Sarah stood up and moved away. “No. No!”
She paced back and forth. She didn’t want to hear anymore. How did Ellen live with herself? Didn’t she understand the pain Reefer experienced growing up without a mother?
“Maybe you should try and find him. Explain to—”
“Are you kidding me?” Sarah whirled around. “After sending me after him—and you knew he was your son—you want me to make him forgive you? Forgive me?” She pressed her hand over chest. “I don’t even forgive myself. If I had any idea you were lying to me…”
Anger festered in her chest. She threw her hands up in the air. “I can’t imagine what he thinks of me. He probably thinks I knew you were his mother and… Oh, God, I have to get out of here.”
She grabbed her bag and ran out the door. She ignored Ellen’s cries for her to come back. She hurried away from the house, down the sidewalk. With no idea where to go, she continued to walk.
How in the world did Reefer figure it out? She didn’t even know about Ellen! He must think the worst of her, and she didn’t blame him. What Ellen did was unforgivable.
Exhausted, she sat down at a bus stop. Her stomach rolled, and she inhaled deep breaths to keep the nausea at bay. The only place left to stay was at the reservation, and she’d sworn the day she left she’d never go back.
Rejected and despondent, she found a payphone and called Bill. He invited her back, and with the extra money left over from the amount Reefer gave her, she phoned a taxi to take her home. To the place she’d never planned to return.
Chapter Eighteen
“I’m not going to tell you again, Crank. Get the hell out of my way.” Reefer pushed him.
Crank scrambled and stepped back into his path. Reefer’s chest expanded, and he shook his head. Fine, if that’s the way he wanted it. Who was he to disappoint him?
Reefer hauled back his fist and clipped him across the chin. Crank stumbled, shook his head, and stepped right back up in from of him. Jesus Christ, how many more hits is he going to take?
“This is getting old, and my hand is starting to hurt,” he told his brother.
Crank stuck his chin up. “All you have to do is talk to me. Tell me why Sarah left.”
“No.” He stepped around Crank and tried to ignore the man. Two more steps and he found himself once again with a roadblock. “I’m going to hurt you this time.”
“Go ahead. First tell me why you’ve been moping around here all month, and why Sarah left like she did.” Crank squeezed his eyes shut and prepared to accept another punch.
“That’s enough, boys.” Knuckles strolled out of his motel room. “You’re both too old to duke it out. Crank, let him pass. Reefer, maybe you need to take a vacation and get your head screwed on right.”
Reefer glared at them both, turned the other way, and slammed the door to his room. The road called to Reefer, and he wished they’d all ridden out today, but for some reason Knuckles sat here in Dallas growing grass under his ass. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d spent a whole month in one place.
The four walls of his motel room closed in on him, and to make matters worse, he had to room with Crowbar because he didn’t have any money. The poker runs had dried up, and his hands shook if he tried to throw darts or play pool.
He lay down on the make-shift sofa bed, his hands linked behind his head, and stared at the ceiling. The thought of having to live each day with this empty hole inside his chest sunk him into a funk he wasn’t sure he knew how to climb out of. The memory of Sarah at the train station brought on a wave of grief and his chest tightened.
He rolled over on his side and closed his eyes, ignoring Crank. He didn’t care how his mother convinced Sarah to work her way into the gang. The woman who never stuck around to raise her own son was dead to Reefer. What he didn’t understand was how Sarah had lived with him every single day and convinced him that she loved him. More than anything, he hated himself for allowing someone else to yank out his heart.
Someone knocked on the door, but Reefer didn’t get up. He finally heard Crowbar get up and stomp to the door. Reefer kept his eyes closed to shut out the world. He didn’t want to go out to eat, or for a drink; he only wanted to sleep the day away to get closer to getting back on the road where he might outrun his troubles.
The door shut, and the side of the bed moved. He opened his eyes. Margarine sat on the edge of the bed beside him. Great! Knuckles sent in the Calvary.
“What did your dad tell you? I’m mooching off everyone and not doing a very good job of riding the end?” Reefer closed his eyes.
She brushed the hair away from his face. “Actually, he told me to come kick your ass, but seeing you laying on the bed this way, I figure your ass has already taken a beating.”
He grunted.
“What happened?”
Blunt and to the point, Margarine and he remained friends over the years because she was the only one who half-way understood him. Before Sarah came around, Margarine, with all her support and understanding, was the only one he’d ever allowed to see the softer side of him. But even Margarine never got close enough to see the damage his mother had done to him. He didn’t allow the ugliness into his friendship with her.
He sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. “She wasn’t who she said she was, and I sent her back to where she came from. End of story.”
“You loved her.” She didn’t ask a question, she stated the obvious.
He shrugged.
“Do you remember when I ran away from Remy and you took care of me? Do you remember what you told me? I’ll tell you. You said that maybe there’s two stories and I should listen to him before I burned my bridges.” She gathered his hand into hers and held it.
“If I remember right, you didn’t listen to my advice, and in the end I brought Remy to you and forced you to listen.” Reefer snorted. “You’re not able to force me to do anything. I’m too big.”
“Okay, let me try this.” She turned his face towards her. “I know what another woman looks like when she’s in love. That woman loved you with every fiber of her being. Reefer…that woman wanted you, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with you on th
e back of your Harley.”
He closed his eyes to shut out her words. “You don’t understand.”
“So explain it to me.”
He opened his eyes. He wanted to tell someone. Margarine never let him down. Even in childhood when friendships came and went, she stood beside him, his fiercest protector.
“It turns out that my mother is her friend, and she sent Sarah to me. Sarah kept in contact with her, telling her about me.” He bent over and leaned his elbows on his knees. “Sarah kept it all from me.”
Margarine stood. Her hands dug deep in the top of her hair. “Your mother? Sandy?”
Reefer nodded. “I even saw her when I picked up Sarah and didn’t even know it. She didn’t say a word.”
“But…I don’t understand. How did you find out this person is your mom?” Margarine sat back down.
“I found a postcard.” He got up from the bed and stepped over to his bag. “Here, take a look. Check out the name.”
Margarine read the postcard, her mouth open, and an expression of disbelief came over her face. “But this says Ellen Donaldson?”
Reefer nodded. “When dad died, I found their marriage certificate in his things. She only went by Sandy when she rode, I guess.”
“This postcard could mean anything, Reefer. It might not mean what it sounds like.” She handed the card back to him.
He tossed it on the bed. “I don’t know. Pretty damning evidence to me. Sarah is the one person I told everything to. She knew what my mom did to us, to me.”
“Give it one more go around. Trust me, I wish I could take back those months I was all alone, pregnant, and without Remy. I can never give him back what he missed out on.” She hugged him. “Think about it, okay?”
He held on to her. The touch of someone so pure and good brought him comfort, and he found himself nodding. Could he really give Sarah a chance to explain her part in everything?
“Thanks, Margarine.”
“Okay, my job here is done. Remy is over with my parents and we have to fly back out for a party tonight.” She gave him one more hug. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
***
Sarah leaned against the fence and gazed out at the children playing baseball. Everyone was in a good mood and celebrating the recovery of Billy Browntail, who had received his marrow transplant and was recovering at home, and so far, seemed on the road to living a normal life. Life on the reservation never changed.
Whether she left or lived on the reservation, there would always be children laughing and proud parents urging their children to expand their knowledge of the world, but it was the darker, lonelier life that stood out to her. For her, the life she had here was filled with self-destruction, poverty, and people living one day at a time.
She thought she’d escaped the sad life she had here, but here she was back with her people, starting over. And this time she was lonelier than ever, because she’d found love and lost it and every other dream she’d ever wished for.
“Little Jeffrey is going to give the older kids a run for their money in a few years. The boy can hit.” Chief Bill approached her and leaned up against the fence.
Sarah nodded and clapped for the child who ran across home base. “Things never change around here, do they?”
Bill shook his head. “No. Sure, people come and go, but there will always be those who use the reservation as a crutch. Fewer and fewer people want to preserve our way of life.” He gazed out at the field. “You’ve heard me say that before, and I borrowed that line from my father, who got it from my grandfather.”
Sarah smiled. “I’m thinking of staying on. I’ve played lazy long enough, and starting tomorrow I have two new patients to care for since returning. I figure in two weeks I can put a deposit on one of the vacant houses here.”
“Good. I’m tired of watching you sleep in your car.” He smiled. “You will be one of those that carry on what has been instilled inside your heart all these years. You will help the people.”
“I can try, although I don’t feel very strong.”
Bill patted her arm. “You are stronger than you realize.”
Her sober mood brightened. “At least I have something of my own. I can’t thank you enough for keeping my car for me. It seems like such a simple thing, but owning it gave me something to care for. I needed that.”
“You’ll do well with life, Sarah Lightfeather.” He patted her back before moving over to the others.
She headed to her car. If she hurried, she might have the community showers to herself. She opened the trunk and rifled through her box of clean clothes, thankful that the nurse who worked for Ellen had picked up the stuff she’d stored at Ellen’s house and met her in town to hand everything over. At least this way she was able to go back to work for the agency and pick up new patients.
The showers were vacant and she took her time under the steam and washed her hair. She hated to waste water, but the warmth eased the muscles in her neck from the tension she’d been living with. It didn’t help that the seat of her car was worse than sleeping on the ground.
Mothers with their children in tow came into the dressing room, and she shut off the water and stepped over to get dressed. The showers belonged to everyone, and many of the families had no running water inside their houses because utility bills proved too expensive.
She wrapped her dirty clothes in a towel and walked back to her car.
After throwing her laundry in the trunk, she crawled into the backseat. She pulled a blanket Bill had given her the first night she’d shown up on his doorstep over her shoulders and stuffed her leather coat under her head. She inhaled. The vision of Reefer entered her head.
Tonight I will not cry. I will not…damn it.
Chapter Nineteen
She moved her gaze from the road to the piece of paper she held with the directions to her patient’s house. She squinted at the mailboxes in a search of 612 North Fifth Street. She flipped her turn signal on and pulled over to the curb.
This is it. Time to start earning my own money and get on with my life.
An hour later, she walked out of the house with an extra spring in her step. The talkative, older man was recovering at his daughter’s house after hip surgery and had kept her entertained with his sharp wit and determination to recover. She paced him through the exercises and promised to see him in two days for more.
Before she returned to the reservation, she stopped at the bank. She withdrew enough money from her account to buy a few items at the grocery store, and then walked through the parking lot over to the food mart. She figured fruits and breakfast bars stored in the trunk of her car would keep for a few days. There might even be an extra cooler at the community hall she could borrow.
The way her work schedule panned out, she planned to have enough money to secure one of the older places on the reservation before too long. With the cash she’d save in rent on the reservation, she even thought about moving away next year. Maybe even move to a different state.
She carried the brown paper bag out of the store, set the groceries on the hood of the car, and reached into her pocket for her keys. She unlocked the door, opened it, and turned to grab her groceries.
Instead, someone handed them to her. She raised her head and lost her grip on the bag. Her mouth fell open, and she stumbled back against the car.
Reefer picked up the apples that rolled out, set them back in the sack, and placed her groceries on the back seat.
She struggled to drag air into her lungs. What is he doing here? Why did he come back?
Reefer stood silent and reached his hand out, but changed his mind and dropped his arm to his side. She stepped back and shook her head.
Is this a joke?
“Why are you here?” She crossed her arms.
He inhaled. “I thought we could talk.”
“Oh, you did, did you? I remember saying the same thing. You ignored me and dropped me off at a train station!” She shook her head
and closed the back door. “I have to go.”
She opened the front door and got in the driver’s seat, but Reefer held the door open. “Excuse me.”
“Just give me a few minutes, Kitten. Please…”
She slumped in the seat. She might have stayed strong, but he called her the nickname that softened her insides. Tired of fighting, she nodded.
“Can we go somewhere? Sit down and talk?” He cleared his throat. “There’s a coffee place down the road I noticed. Maybe you’ll meet me there?”
She nodded, not daring to glance at him. Instead, she kept her gaze straight out the front windshield.
He stepped back from the car. She closed her door and started the engine. Her hands shook on the steering wheel. Without looking at him, she pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Astoria’s Coffee Café.
She sat in the car and waited for him to show up. Her stomach fluttered, and even closing her eyes and taking deep breaths didn’t soothe her nerves. She wanted to fall into his arms and refuse to let him go, but he’d hurt her deeply the day he’d pushed her away.
What can he say to me that would change what he did? He left me.
The rumble of his motorcycle arrived ahead of him, and people on the sidewalk turned to stare. She brought her hand up to cover her chest. If only there was a way to bottle the effect the bikes played on her soul. She missed the way it drove her forward in life and signaled that anything was possible. It gave her hope.
He pulled up in front of her car along the curb. With his back to her, she drank in the sight of him. His usual whiskered jaw line sported a thick beard, and his hair hung a couple of inches longer than the last time she’d seen him. No matter the changes, she found she reacted to him even stronger than before.
Knock it off! You can’t let someone walk all over you again.
She opened the door and stepped up on the sidewalk. She followed him inside the café, and he picked a two-person table near the front window. He held out her chair, and she sat.