FOUR
Fisher
Her hands rested loosely in my lap. She was comfortable on the back of the bike, which was more than I could say for those who had ridden on my motorcycles in the past. It seemed to me that women either got on a motorcycle to satisfy an urge to go against their father’s wishes, or because they truly enjoyed it as much as the man who was riding it.
I believed Anna to be the latter.
She didn’t fidget in her seat or thrash about while we were riding. She simply relaxed on the long straight runs, and leaned with me as I rode through the curves. It was as if she was an extension of me. A surprise while riding a motorcycle is rarely a good thing, and her predictability was appreciated.
I slowed behind a truck as traffic maneuvered around an SUV that was coming to a stop. “Mesa’s half an hour out,” I said over my shoulder.
Her chest pressed against my back. “Okay.”
“We’ll be there long before dark,” I said. “Figured after we got to the hotel we could ride out to the desert and watch the sunset.”
“That’d be nice.”
“Ever watched the sun set in the desert?”
“Nope.”
“I’m not sure why, but it looks different. Better. More colorful. You’ll see.”
“I can’t wait.”
The truck inched forward. After passing the SUV that was pulling off the shoulder of the road, I twisted the throttle back and passed the long line of vehicles that had become all but stationary.
I cocked my head to the side. “I’m not much on sitting still,” I shouted.
“You have ten years of making up to do,” she responded. “Sitting still is wasting time.”
I didn’t have any making up to do, I only needed to resolve one thing that had been lingering in the back of my mind for the last seven years. My pride wouldn’t allow me to simply walk away from it.
As soon as I resolved matters, I could go on with living my life.
“All I’ve got to do is make it to the coast,” I said. “After that, my life will be golden.”
“Will we get there tomorrow?” she asked.
“Easily,” I said.
She leaned against her backrest. “I can’t wait.”
I couldn’t either. I accelerated up to the speed limit, and held the throttle firm. Now out in front of all the traffic, it seemed I had the road to myself. Nothing but pavement and desert was in front of me.
Behind me, memories of my past, and a stinging reminder that there were seven years of my life that would never be returned.
All I needed to do was get to the coast.
We made it to Mesa in twenty minutes and checked into a hotel. After showering and changing clothes, we took sub sandwiches and a six pack of beer to the most remote spot we could find.
We parked the bike and then hiked through the remote section of desert toward a large flat rock that gave an unobstructed view to the west.
I lowered my backpack from my shoulders and glanced around the desolate countryside. “Looks like a good spot.”
Anna sat on the edge of the rock and gazed off in the distance. “It seems like we’re out in the middle of nowhere.”
I gestured toward the mountainous horizon and chuckled. “We are.”
“No. I mean, like, nowhere. There’s not a house, a sign of life, or any cars driving past. There’s nothing.” She looked to her left and then to the right. “It’s so peaceful.”
I sat down beside her and stared blankly toward where the cloudless sky met a series of rock formations in the distance. The contrast of red earth against the pale blue sky was remarkable. “This is what life’s all about. It’s the exact opposite of how I’ve been living for the last seven years.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“No need to dwell on it.” I handed her one of the sandwiches. “We’ve got a sunset to watch.”
She unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. “It’s hard to believe that you’re the same guy that saved me from those drunken hillbillies.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were all business when you walked into the bar,” she said. “You beat the crap out of all of those guys and then took the gun from the bartender like it was nothing. Now? Now you’re all calm and serene. It’s not what I would have expected.”
“Contrary to what a pacifist might claim, there’s a time and a place for violence. There always will be.” I gestured toward the thousands of acres that surrounded us. “I prefer this, but life doesn’t always offer us these moments. I take them when I can get them.”
“I think I like that about you.”
I gave her a look. “What’s that?”
“The fact that you can transition from what I saw in the bar to this. I’ve been around violent men, and I’ve never known one to have a side like this.”
“I’m not a violent man. I’m a man who isn’t opposed to resorting to violence when it’s necessary.”
“But only when it’s necessary?” she asked.
I raised my half-eaten sandwich. “Correct.”
“You’ve never hit a woman, have you?”
I choked on my food, almost spitting it out in the process. The thought of a man laying a hand on a woman filled me with anger, and her questioning of me caused me to become defensive.
“Me?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and then met her gaze. “A woman? Not no, but hell no.”
She smiled ever so slightly. “That’s good to know.”
“It’s a man’s job to cherish a woman. To protect her from harm, not cast it upon her.”
“I was in a relationship with a guy who was pretty crappy. He hit me a few times.”
Based on her attempt to drive across Texas in a car that was clearly incapable of making the trip – and that it was filled with her belongings – I’d guessed that she was running from something. I figured she’d tell me about it when she was ready. Now that she was, I needed to be attentive to her desire to discuss it.
“I’m sorry that happened to you. As long as you’re here with me, you’ll never have to worry about it happening again, I can promise you that.”
She patted her hand against the portion of rock that was between us and grinned. “Here on this rock?”
“No. Anywhere. If you’re with me, no one will hurt you. Ever.”
“You can’t make promises like that. If he wanted to find me, he could, and he would. He’s too lazy, though, so it’ll never happen.”
“You might send him a text message, or whatever, and tell him it’s in his best interest not to try and find you. If he’s ever in my presence, he’ll get the ass whipping of a lifetime for what he did to you.”
She gave me an innocent look. “For hitting me?”
“That is correct.”
With her sandwich in hand, she leaned toward me. I expected she was going to whisper something in my ear, but she didn’t.
She kissed me. On the cheek. It was simple and quick, but it was heartfelt.
As she pulled away, her eyes locked with mine. “Thank you,” she said softly.
I swallowed hard and then gave a sharp nod.
Everything that followed was dwarfed by that kiss. In the future, when I recalled the night we drove out to the desert to watch the sunset, my memories never included anything but that kiss, that much I was sure of.