Her Blue Eyes in the Rain
By Gale Sparks
I was sitting at the exit of the Sears store after picking up a new sleeping bag. When I saw the phenomenon. A motorcycle flew down the street, a pair of three foot braided pigtails flying out from under the helmet.
I couldn't find a break in the traffic, as I stood as high as possible to watch as she disappeared among the stream of cars. The traffic that separated us, finally halted at the traffic light, one of the drivers was courteous enough to leave an open place for me to merge with the rest of the traffic.
What he didn't expect was for me to pull out, easing my bike onto the white broken line that divided the traffic and cranked down on the throttle. The bike just slightly pulled the front wheel off the ground as I divided the two lines of traffic until I was waiting under the red light.
I knew after this traffic light there was only two other lights nearly at the end of the street. I stared at the light, revving the bike watching for the light to turn yellow on the crossing traffics side. As the light turned yellow I revved the bike one last time when our light turned green, I flipped my hand loose from the clutch as the engine wound out, pulling one more wheel stand.
When I was nearly a block ahead of the traffic behind me, I pulled off the white line into the left lane, as I switched to the lane I glanced at the speedometer, the needle was nearly touching the 70 MPH mark.
The thought quickly flashed, "what if I don't catch the girl, and there is a cop sitting one of the small cross streets."
The idea quickly vanished when I saw I had caught up with the group of traffic that had been ahead of the past bunch and had my blond haired biker hidden somewhere.
I joined the rear of the traffic while it sat at the light, slowly I edged the bike down the white lines that divided the cars, occasionally where space allowed I would duck into a lane and peer ahead. I continued this duck and run maneuver until I saw the light turn green. As I stood on the pegs of my bike trying to keep balance I glimpsed her turning left at the light.
Cutting in front of a car, while on a bike is highly not recommended… I cut the car behind me off by inches making the left turn in time to see the pigtails fall down across her back as she slowed to make a right into a park.
I pulled up abreast of her as I entered the park; the car horns still blaring in the background, my palms became sweaty making the task of holding the throttle at a steady idle no simple task. We continued to look each other over as we crept along through the park at the enforced 15 MPH speed limit. When we were nearly half way though the park, we finally came to a pull off where people often parked to walk.
Somehow it happened that she on the right side of our lane, my decision as we rode along was going to be her decision. We would either stop and meet or she would ride on to the end of the park's drive, then whichever direction she turned I would go the opposite.
A cold chill ran down my spine as I saw her right flasher start blinking on the fork of her bike as she pulled off the street. I slowed barely keeping the bike balanced. First impressions just aren't good if you flop your bike in front of the chick on your first meeting.
After our awkward introductions and stuttering small talk I asked her if she wanted to keep riding for a while, maybe get something to eat later. With a nervous and shy smile she nodded as she flipped down her face shield and pulled out.
We took off into the night and became inseparable for the next three weeks. Our friendship had gotten to the point that when quitting time finally came, I was clock watching just to get out. I loved every minute that we had together.
Even with the pure joy of the girl's advances I could feel the mountains of Oklahoma beckoning. She was beautiful and once we had broken through her shyness we had developed a full-blown relationship. But the west still seemed to carry a sirens call.
After being together every night, I finally mustered the courage to tell her of my plans to head west. As we sat across from each other at the rear booth of a McDonalds sipping milkshakes, I explained I was leaving the following Saturday morning for a cowboy job in Oklahoma.
I thought I had dropped enough hints over the time we had been together about my love of the west that she would realize that one of these days I would be leaving. Her head down low sipping on the shake, she refused to look up. When I told her I was leaving in two days on a Greyhound a single teardrop fell and hit the table, I told her my ticket was for 8:00 AM that Saturday morning. She took a napkin and wiped her eyes and dabbed her mouth.
I sat there steeled, I loved the cowboy life, and as I looked into the red eyes across the table I knew I had to hold firm. I was going back to Oklahoma, there simply wasn't anything going to stand in my path, even the beautiful blue eyes and waist length golden hair that sat across from me. After the awkward silence we walked out to our motorcycles… as I went to kiss her good night she slid her helmet over her face blocking my shot.
Before she fired up her bike she said, "I'm busy tomorrow night." And left.
I stood there, alone in the parking lot next to my bike numb. I really don't know what I expected. I didn't think of the three weeks that she had invested in this relationship not realizing I was leaving. Finally a feeling of guilt sank in as I straddled my bike and my heart felt the slight twinge of heaviness on the ride home.
The next night after I had gotten off from work I tore home and called her house, her mother cooly said she wasn't home, and had no idea when she would be back. I tried most of the night, leaving the phone ring four times then hanging up.
Finally near eleven o'clock she answered the phone, I apologized for leading her on, I didn't ask where she had been or what she was doing. Mentally, I wanted to think she was sitting at home counting the times I called. I knew I didn't have the right to ask. We finally agreed to meet the next night for one final night together.
The next day was Friday, and payday, I knew I was going to need most of this check for my expenses. But still I decided the only decent thing to do for someone as special as her would be to take them to a nice place for our final meal together.
We met at a small Italian restaurant that was nearly half way between our homes; the one thing that I had learned over our relationship was that we both loved pizza. I'd never taken her here before mainly because I was too tight with my money. When I arrived she was already there, dressed like I had never seen her dressed in three weeks.
I looked in amazement as she slung her left leg over the bike, and stood in front of me, her braids gone long beautiful golden hair slightly wind tousled lying slightly on her hips.
She wore a pair of the sexiest tan suede hot pants I had ever seen, along with a peasants blouse, not too low slung just enough to tease a man but still high enough to be considered respectable. I stood there speechless.
I continued to tell myself, tonight didn't matter it was our last night together, as we ate; we talked little, until, she asked me to describe Oklahoma. From that point on I dominated the conversation the rest of the night. She merely nodded through most of our time staring into my eyes over the flickering red globe that held a tea light in the middle of our table.
After finishing the pizza, we managed to dawdle as long as possible, the manager began cutting us looks through the serving window, I took it as my hint to take my date outside. We held hands as I walked her across the parking lot to the bikes. After one of the longest and most wanting kisses I'll ever remember, she climbed on her bike and fired it up. Before she left she simply said she was taking me to the bus station, and rode off.
After a sleepless night with thoughts of riding horseback in the mountains of Oklahoma and the thoughts of riding my bike with her through the rest of the summer. All I managed was rolling around most of the night.
I was sipping my second cup of coffee when I heard her pull into the drive. I tossed the dregs from the cup into the sink and quietly stepped out into the garage. It had been drizzling all night and was still raining when I stepped outside. I don't know if the chill I felt was from the rain or the unknown of climbing in her car.
I threw my duffel over my shoulder and bent to slip my saddle across my forearm then grab a gym bag that held my bull rope and spurs with my free hand. I walked slowly to her old Chevy. I opened the back door and slung my gear into the back seat, I open the front door and sat down next to her, she never said a word as she turned her head, her eyes briefly touched mine, then looked out the rear window as she backed out of the drive.
With remorse building, I would occasionally catch a sideways glance in her direction. All I could really see was her chewing her lower lip. I was speechless, this was about as awkward a situation as I had ever been in, during my nineteen years of life. I had never heard of the girl you were dumping driving you anywhere, anywhere. We rode the rest of the way to the station in silence.
Next to the curb sat the bus I was leaving on, I silently took my gear from the rear seat, I walked to the driver who was stashing the luggage in the under belly of the bus, as she stood off to the side of the walk. If it hadn't been for the heavy emotions of situation I would have laughed, the look the driver gave me as I handed him my saddle was enough to kill.
We stood there silently holding hands; as the driver slammed shut the door on the storage compartment. I couldn't look her directly in the eyes; I stood there staring at her somewhere around her chin, I watched as the driver to climb the steps. I told her I had to get aboard, letting loose of her hands. I needed to break the way the breakup was dragging on.
We kissed, nothing like the night before, but a loving kiss, I felt my heartstring tear a bit deeper, when I tasted the salty lips from the tears that must have fell from her silent crying to the station. To this day I have know idea what drew me to the seat… I sat at the window seat directly above where she stood on the sidewalk.
When I looked down, she was already looking up into the window where I sat. I began to feel guilt, and possibly selfishness, as I looked down into the tearful eyes. The drizzling rain coming down harder, I watched as the rain fell on her forehead running down her face and mixing with her tears. When the bus pulled away from the curb, our eyes finally broke contact and I didn't look back. In my mind I thought thank God we're on the road, but my heart was saying something different.
We had gotten one hundred and sixteen miles from home before arriving at the next stop. When the driver opened the storage bin and began to remove the luggage of passengers that were getting off at this stop. My heart won the tug of war. I asked him if he could pull my gear from the back where he had so carefully stacked it, for the long haul. While reaching around the other luggage he mentioned there were no refunds and no return trips until late that afternoon, tossing my things on the gravel parking lot.
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