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The Bernie Factor

Page 16

by Joseph S. Davis


  Chapter 16

  Shauna grabbed her keys and headed for the front door. It had been a long day, and the Saturday obedience school started tomorrow. Another Friday night alone, but this was becoming commonplace. She did love her job, but sometimes the hours spent there precluded developing any kind of social life. But this Nick guy piqued her curiosity. He didn’t really seem like your average dog owner, and there was something interesting about him. Nick and Bernie somehow seemed like a perfect pair, but she kept thinking about herself and Nick, too. Yeah, he was attractive in a regular kind of way, but there was more to it than that. His demeanor was somewhat self-deprecating, but he had a degree of confidence with it also. He possessed a strength and a warmth that emanated from his presence, which she knew all too well was rare.

  Her proclivity toward motorcycles and sports alienated her from many women and thrust her into a male oriented world. She never thought of herself as a tomboy, but more of a daddy’s girl. Growing up, her father, Henry, owned a motorcycle repair shop in Cino, CA, and she spent many an afternoon handing him various tools as he tinkered and repaired bikes of all types.

  She spent her fair share of time in the shop with her dad when her mom was still alive. But when she was only 10 years old, her mother passed away from breast cancer. To cope with the loss and the sudden impact of being a single parent, her father fixated on the repair shop. But he was fiercely protective of Shauna, and if he was at work, that’s where she belonged when the last school bell rang. And Shauna had no problem with this scenario.

  When she turned sixteen, the thought of driving a regular car to school repulsed her sensibilities. Her dad fixed up an old Indian motorcycle with a sidecar. Even though he taught her how to ride and remained confident in her abilities, he figured the third wheel on the sidecar couldn’t hurt. He rationalized the whole thing as simple defensive driving.

  “Ah, heck girl, I know you can out ride the pants off anybody in this freaking town,” he would tell her. “But I don’t trust all those other knuckleheads who can’t tell red from green and spend more time looking at everything but the road. Besides, it’s more fun to ride with somebody else, and I doubt any other sixteen year olds are tooling around on Indians. At least not ones I want you hanging around.”

  “All right, daddy,” she told him. “Can I put Berman in the side car when he needs to go to the vet?”

  “Sure, but if he freaks out and pisses all over the seat, don’t come to me to clean up the mess. My truck’s always available for those trips, but I’ll let you two try it out.”

  Berman was their six year old Burnese Mountain dog. Five months after Shauna’s mother passed away, her dad brought him home, out of the blue. He was a puppy, but already bigger than some dogs full grown. Shauna was ecstatic. Henry was relieved to see that bright, beautiful smile spread across her face again. He had flashes of it here and there, but he knew he needed something to jumpstart her heart. No ten year old should lose a parent. He was no fool and knew the dog wouldn’t be a replacement. The dog was simply an antidotal treatment and a fun distraction for Shauna’s wounded heart.

  Henry was an avid sports fan, but football was his true passion. He’s spend his Sunday afternoons with Chris Berman and the gang from ESPN’s NFL pregame show, bounce between games, and wrap it up with ESPN’s NFL primetime. It was during one of those NFL Primetime episodes that Henry got himself into a laughing fit over Chris Berman’s on air antics.

  “That freaking Berman busts my gut,” he shouted. Right on cue, the dog jumped up, did three quick circles and began racing from the kitchen back into den over and over. Each time he came back to the den, he’d give Henry a few ear piercing puppy barks.

  “What, you like Berman, too?” Henry shouted. Each time he said Berman, the dog got more animated.

  Shauna joined in the excitement and began shouting, “Berman, Berman, Berman!” This drove the dog to a near frenzy.

  After they let up and things settled for a bit, Shauna said, “Daddy, let’s name him Berman.”

  “Why not? What do think, Berman?” The Burnese Mountain dog sat on his hunches and wagged his tail from side to side. “I think he’s good with it.” With that exchange, Berman became his permanent name, making the sidecar a staple for all of Shauna’s motorcycles to come.

  Shauna stepped outside of the shelter and checked the door to make sure it secured. Besides thinking about Nick and Bernie, and her and Nick, and her and Bernie and Nick (now her mind was really playing the scenario game), she flashed back to Alva’s words. Who the hell just says Blanco Diablo? She maintained her composure, but she had to admit that it bothered her to think of somebody like that in her place of work. It was funny how something as disturbing as that gets mixed with something as fun loving as Bernie and Nick.

  It was at that precise moment she decided to make a leap of faith and drive over to the Slippery Beaver. Faith may not exactly mesh with cold beer and spicy nachos, but it sure seemed like a right fit at that precise moment. Before she could think herself out of it, she fired up the Road King and pointed the thundering machine out the parking lot. Probably not the most logical decision she’d ever made, but it felt right in her gut, and her dad taught her to always trust her gut.

  “Then why does acting gutsy feel so scary?” she joked with herself as she shifted into second gear.

 

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