Page 70 of Praying for Thunder

For the first time, I was on the back of a Harley motorcycle, driving down isolated dirt roads. I didn’t have a helmet, even though it was against North Carolina laws. Dad felt they were for pussies who weren’t willing to die for the ride he lived for. Freeing wind grazed me, daring me not to understand his meaning. Against his back, I felt his ribs expand, breathing in the wildness of his life. As I had with Diablo, the night I had dreamt of a fire, I let my lungs open wide and breathed… with the President of the Hell Titans.

When I had first gone to Grandma’s, I’d been in the backseat of a car. I was in far too much shock to pay attention to much of my surroundings. Since I hadn’t left her house since, and was now older, I was able to take in more of where I had lived. It was off State Road 74, about forty-five minutes outside of Wilmington. On 74, we drove at high speeds, passing vehicles. Seeing the glow of their dashboard lights, I couldn’t help but peer in windows, wondering if their lives were anything like mine.

We drove past many trees and a few bridges over water. City lights appearing had my eyes darting to all the buildings and businesses. I hadn’t seen society in years. Even the smells of the hustle and bustle were different from where I had been.

The clubhouse was an old Bed and Breakfast that had many bedrooms for guests, that now housed a bunch of bikers. It was on Wilmington’s coast. I’d never seen a beach before, and still couldn’t because it was nighttime. But I could smell the saltwater. As we got closer to my new home, I studied all the houses on stilts. I’d never seen that before, at least not in real life.

Onus pulled us into a concrete driveway that led right under a baby blue stilted home. Underneath, he parked next to a slew of other bikes. As soon as his engine shut off, I could hear music pounding above me. Movement to my right had me seeing a woman peeking through window blinds of the house right next door. Like the little boy on the city bus, so long ago, I tried to be nice by waving, but she shut them.

Dad laughed. “That bitch needs dick. Ignore her, son.”

Son…

Careful of the hot tailpipe, as instructed, I got off the bike and followed Dad up wooden stairs outside the clubhouse. They were connected to a deck that led us to the front door. Onus didn’t knock, of course. He swung the door wide and walked into the party occurring. Beer bottles and empty liquor bottles were sprawled about. So were naked women.

Piercer was having sex with one.

My body went rigid, flashbacks of him attacking Ani…

Onus took hold of the back of my shirt and guided—shoved—me toward the rear of the house. Passing the kitchen in the Mess Hall, he grabbed a bag of potato chips. “Don’t worry. Someday that will be fun for you.”

Peering up at him, I blinked in dismay. He clearly didn’t know what I had witnessed, right?

He opened a door, then pushed me into a dark bedroom. “Roamer.”

A young man, only a year or two older than me, was looking at us. Only the glow from his TV lit the room.

“Take care of Hellion. I got shit to do.” Onus handed me my ‘dinner’ and then left the room, shutting the door.

Only an hour earlier, the woman I had lived with had tried to kill me. I witnessed her death. All I had were the smoke-reeking clothes on my back, and now a bag of potato chips. Yet my criminal father thought it best to go get laid, alongside the violent man I hadn’t seen since he had killed the only mother figure I’d ever had.

Mouth hanging wide, I stood there, trembling.

Setting down his PlayStation remote, “Ah, shit, kid,” Roamer got up from a touristy couch of palm trees.

Kid? Slipping further into shock, I asked, “How old are you?”

He was much thicker than me. Taller than my already six-feet frame. But reminded me of a bear who was totally unaware of his strength and power, or simply chose not to acknowledge it. Bringing me a plastic bottle of water, he sighed. “Fifteen, but I feel like I’m forty.” When my hands refused to let go of the chips to accept the water, he put his arm around my shoulders and guided me to the couch. “Aging tends to happen at a rapid rate here.”

I don’t remember sitting, but was when I asked, “You live here?”

He groaned like an old man when he sat next to me. “Yep. Just like you now, apparently.”

I clung to the chips, breaking some in the process. “I need a prayer.”

He huffed, “Don’t we all in this tragedy we call life.” He tried the water again. “Can you please drink this? I think your mind is crashin’.”

I whispered, “Rya.”

“Yep. You’re losing it.”

Shaking my head, I explained, “My friend. I need to see her.”

He was impressed. “Well, alright! Losing your shit, yet still wantin’ a girl.”

My eyes widened. “No! Not like that.”

Roamer shrugged. “Then for what?”