Chapter 7

We went back to the QT to pick up my bike, which I rode home, following my parents in their car. I have to admit that I experienced a bit of anxiety as I approached it: my Yamaha, that is. It was right there where he grabbed me. That feeling of anxiety mixed with dread made me mad, too. That fucker took away my feelings of security. I wish I could gut him. Or, better yet, saw his fucking head off ... or maybe not. I don’t know how that would affect me. Probably very poorly.

Upon reaching home, I dismounted and pushed my bike into the garage. I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to ride it again — another thing to be mad at that fucker for. I love riding my little Yamaha. It gave me the freedom to move around; to go places with friends. Perhaps, if I had the Djinn change it to a different bike, it would be better.

And, that’s another thing. The Djinn cannot magic away emotions. There is no fast fix for PTSD, anxiety, or any of the other psychological dysfunctions.

After parking my bike, I headed inside and stripped and took a shower. After my shower, I put the remaining portions of my riding gear in the laundry. Later I would bag it up and set it aside for when we had a garage sale. Yeah, I may need to replace my motorcycle, if I can’t deal with the clothes I had been wearing. On the other hand, there’s that saying, “Get back on the horse (that bucked you).” I already proved that I could get back on my bike, but it wasn’t involved in the attack. I would have to think about it.

Supper was subdued, after what had happened. A far cry from the joyous way the day had started. It was, in spite of everything, a delicious and filling meal, which we all managed to enjoy.

There was no attempt to make small talk. We ate quietly, with a comment here and there about how good it was. Mom would reach over and caress my face, or my hand every few minutes. Pop would reach over and give my hand a squeeze. Both actions were comforting.

I was feeling much better, now that I was well removed from the attempt to rape me. The meal and company of my loving parents were a huge part of that.

After supper, and cleaning up, we went to the living room and watched Sling Blade and Blade Runner. Of course, we had popcorn. Who doesn’t watch movies with popcorn? Blasphemy, I tell you! I’d seen Blade Runner before, and it’s one of those movies that I can watch many times. Sling Blade was something else. It’s a great movie, and when Billy Bob Thorton’s character got whacked with the “sling blade,” I cheered. I would highly recommend it.

It was late when we finished with both movies, but I was feeling much better, and I told them so. They kissed me, and we all headed to our own beds. I fell asleep almost as soon as my head hit my pillow. I slept deeply. The next morning, I recalled having a dream where I was wearing a new neon pink racing suit with matching helmet and boots, while I was riding a 1994 Ducati M900 Monster.

I am beginning to think the Djinn has a sense of humor. He doesn’t tell jokes. Instead, he makes me pay for some of my wishes in the oddest ways. I mentioned that to keep my fuel tank filled I was required to do household chores at the rate of five dollars an hour.

I bring up the Djinn’s sense of humor because he extended paying through chores to the wish I made that morning. I wished for all the information on the Ducati, and I got it, but he charged me! He made me pay for it with two hours of housework. What the hell?

So, after vacuuming the carpets, sweeping the floors, dusting around the rooms, and cleaning the garage, he granted me my wish. Oh, I ended up working for three hours. I don’t do things half-assed. So, I couldn’t stop halfway through cleaning the garage. I hope that extra hour counts for my fuel.

I fell in love with the Ducati, but wishing it into being, as a replacement for my Yamaha would be a bit much. Sure, I could afford to buy it, but I couldn’t ride it until I was 18. I ate breakfast with mom and pop, grabbed my spare riding outfit and went riding for the day. I explained my reasoning and promised I would call if I was going to be out for an extended time. Back then, pay phones were everywhere.

I spent a few hours riding, taking breaks for water, snacks, and lunch along the way. During one stop I grabbed a motorcycle magazine with the newest bikes. As I paged through it, I found a few I liked. It was no longer an issue of feeling anxiety in connection with my Yamaha. It was a case of curiosity about what was new.

If I got tired of the Yamaha, I would look into getting a Kawasaki KLR 250 dual-sport. For now, I would stay with my Yamaha. I spent a wish on it, so why get rid of it if I didn’t have any hangups riding it?

I did call home, when I stopped for lunch. I let mom know I was having lunch out at Taco Bell and would be heading back soon after. She thanked me for the call and told me to ride safely.

On the way home, I dropped off the videos from the day before. I had picked them up on the way out the door and had them in a bag secured to the back of my bike. While I was there, I picked up Star Trek IV (The Voyage Home) and Dragon Heart.

Supper was a simple affair, and we chatted amicably. The ride had done me a lot of good. Riding usually does. It is a form of meditation for me. I have a few roads I know that are relatively free of traffic and use them when I need to clear my head.

We watched Star Trek before supper and Dragon Heart after. We all sat together cuddled, with me in the middle, on the couch, with popcorn and drinks at hand. It felt great to be snuggled between them.

After the movie, I went and showered and got ready for bed. I wasn’t wiped out like I had been last night. So, I grabbed a book I had meant to read and got to it. I’m a fan of the works of Alan Dean Foster. I enjoyed his Spellsinger series and the Myth Inc. books, too. I was now into his Humanx Commonwealth series. The book in hand at the moment was Cachalot.

Cachalot is a water world in the Commonwealth, where all living members of the order Cetacean were brought to the planet from Earth six hundred years before the story begins. Now, floating cities are being destroyed, and the Commonwealth wants to know who, what, and why.

I guess I was more tired than I thought. I can’t remember what I read before I drifted off to sleep. This happens to me often enough that I have a timer set up for my reading lamp. It isn’t that the light would wake me up, but to save electricity. The timer uses much less energy than the incandescent bulb in my reading lamp. Maybe someday they’ll make a better lightbulb.

Much of the rest of the month passed without much worth mentioning. I grew another two inches and was six feet tall at the start of the new school year. That might have meant more shopping, but a simple wish to resize all my clothes was all that was needed. Well, resize and renew. And, before you ask, the Djinn made me work for it. Fortunately, I only had to pay in the way of two hours of work. What is up with this two hours work bit he has going? He’s got to be messing with me.