CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT - Back Porches

You can get lost in your thoughts out on the open sea. Granted, leaning on the metal railing of the ferry crossing the St. John's River doesn't quite qualify as being at sea, but the sounds of the gulls, and the strong smells enshrouding the stout ship chugging against the strong current allowed a vivid imagination to conjure up the same images.

From the boat house where the tourists and business commuters huddled against the chill of the morning dampness, their faces directed out the windows, Lance and I must have looked funny. The only two left out in the open, leaning over with elbows on the railings, we peered down at the churning waters as we made our way across the river to Mayport Ferry Terminal. Shrimp and fishing boats lined up against the opposite shore, their booms and lines silhouetted against the overcast sky.

I'm not one to feel we always have to be talking. There's no discomfort in silence - and that's how we passed half the journey across the river. Then, with the casino boat on the opposite shore growing larger ahead of us, Lance spoke.

"How far is it to St. Augustine?" His gaze was distant - unfocused and unmoving.

"Half hour, maybe - doubt there's much rush hour traffic on the beach roads around here."

It was as if he didn't hear my reply - or it was taking a while to digest it. He remained unmoving for minutes before he straightened up, turned around and leaned backwards against the railings, "Mind if we stay a couple days at your friend's place? I'm not feeling all that good - thinking I could use a day's rest."

We were heading to Fort McCoy, a little ranching community near Ocala. I knew a woman there whom I'd met years before on another ride up in the Virginia mountains. She lived in Fort McCoy with her husband on a Guest Ranch. Jewel always had a place available for me when I rode this way - usually around Daytona Bike Week.

I had planned a two night stop anyway, but I just grunted a nonchalant "Sure" under my breath and took credit for being flexible.

"Still wanna hang around with Arianne for those couple days? She might want to get to the rally."

"We'll find out in 30 minutes. She's free to do as she pleases."

This marked the first time in my friendship with Lance that he didn't openly seem like he was on the chase. He must have been really feeling like crap to blow off the chance to hang out with a pretty girl like Arianne. I hoped she would relax with us for a few days to give him a chance to get his strength back. I could tell, at stops and while loading his bike, he didn't seem to have the same vigor and strength he used to display.

We were less than a week into the ride and I was already getting worried. It may have been a mistake to have waited for March to begin, but otherwise it would have been too cold.

"Hey, I'll keep her company if you're too puny to keep her interested", I offered. "What's a buddy for, eh?"

His left jab to my shoulder was his way of letting me know he wasn't 'too puny' yet. It was surprisingly strong and the sting was unexpected. "Fuck you"

We spent the next five minutes checking our loads and tightening down cinch straps. The boat carrying us and about 25 vehicles bumped and jostled against the worn wooden pilings on the southern bank of the river as it maneuvered into place to let us off. The gaunt black attendant, with his ever-present grin, waved us off first, and Lance rumbled over the ramps and cautiously weaved through the orange cones and onto the two-lane road that lined the seafood restaurants and taverns and tackle shops near the Mayport Naval Air Station northeast of Jacksonville.

We would stay on A1A, the Coastal Highway, all the way to St. Augustine inlet and cross over into the oldest city in Florida. We rode past the fabled Fountain of Youth, tucked beneath the towering trees adorned with shrouds of Spanish Moss and turned into the Hardee's fifteen minutes early. No sign of Arianne, but I was sure ready for a cup of coffee and a sausage, egg and cheese biscuit.

By 9:00am we were huddled over a map of Florida figuring out how to get to Ft. McCoy without hitting any main roads, dropping biscuit crumbs on the Atlas. "So… you ever gonna tell me about who you were with last night?" Lance said without looking up.

"Nothing to tell. Nice girl I met at the bar. Drinks. Sunset. Missed dinner."

I caught him looking at me, waiting for me to finish or at least go back and fill in some details. "Wha?" I knew he wanted more, but he knew he wasn't gonna get anything.

Instead, he shook his head, " …and here I thought you were Mr. Straight Guy, all in love with his ol' lady and into makin' friends and all. 'Missed dinner' tells me all I need to know!" He looked all smug and victorious, smiling from ear to ear. "Naw", I smiled, "doesn't tell you anything more than I'm hungry for another biscuit." I started to get up against the unyielding chairs bolted to the floor. Free from their confines, I looked back and added, "and nothing's changed from what I said." That got a raised eyebrow. I suppose he was trying to figure out whether I got lucky or not, but it also served to let him know it was none of his business. I smiled, and headed for the counter.

While gathering up my second biscuit at the counter, I noticed a Arianne, with hair tied into a tight ponytail flying behind her, ride into the parking lot on a black Low Rider and lay it over on its kickstand. Just in time - I wasn't gonna wait much longer.

Arianne looked great - tight jeans with brown leather chaps, a light brown jacket with long leather tassels and some kind of Indian quill beadwork ran the length of her torso, gracefully curved over her chest. Her boots seemed tiny, with long heels, giving her a very appealing look - that and she was riding a Harley.

I watched as she came into the side entrance, looked sideways to the left and then right before she noticed Lance sitting with his back to her down the side dining area, bent over the maps I had left on the table. I said nothing in order to watch how the reunion went. She crept closer, obviously trying to mask her footsteps and laid her gloves on the table behind him, kneeled on the adjoining bench backwards, bent over at the waist and nestled her chin into the curve of his neck from behind, saying "Good Morning".

"Yer late!"

That got him a slap across the back of his head as she came around to face him, slid into the booth across from him and crossed her arms across her chest pouting. Looking over his shoulder she caught my eye and we smiled and nodded to each other, she giving a slight wave of her hand as I approached the table with my second biscuit. Always out to stir up trouble, I bent over, gave her a kiss on her offered cheek, and slid into the booth next to her, easily pushing her further in to make room.

"Glad to see you could make it." I mumbled, unwrapping the biscuit.

"Well, at least your welcome was better than this grumpy guy." She nodded toward Lance as if I couldn't figure out who she was referring to.

"He hadn't had his Cheerio's yet this morning. Give him time." In between bites I added, "How much time have you got to spend with a couple road tramps before you have to get back to tend the peaches?"

Lance finally broke his reverie with, "Yeah, hey - sorry… I had a bad night last night with family. You have my full attention, sweetheart." His eyes were bright again, smile revealing white teeth, and his hand reached across the table to hold hers. "Won't happen again, promise."

"I told my dad I would be back by Friday, plenty of time before the Rally weekend gets too crazy. What've you two got in mind?"

"I'm not too sure what we have in mind is decent conversation for a McDonalds on a Sunday morning" Lance quickly countered, "but for a couple nights anyway, we're gonna go visit one of Muthuh's friends on a Horse Ranch if you're game. You hungry?"

Her eyes lit up on hearing about the horse ranch, as she shook her head 'No', but before she could say anything, I added, "Tonight and tomorrow night at Jewels' place and then a couple nights in Daytona. I got a friends condo lined up for Tuesday through Friday night before we take off for south Florida…sure ya don't wanna stay through Friday night and go home Saturday?"

She shook her head. "You boys can find something to do Friday night - I promised I'd be home Friday night and I know better than to go back on promises to daddy."

Might be just as good. If Arianne turned out to be less than entertaining, Lance might just wanna have Friday night to himself anyway, so I didn't push it further. If she was a good time, it'd be up to him to try to get her to go back on her word. Time would tell. I sat back in the booth, wiped crumbs from the corner of my mouth and put the palms of my hands on the table in a gesture of impatience…time to go.

Arianne took a few minutes in the ladies room, Lance and I checked out loads again while we waited. It was only about 80 miles to the Ranch from here through some back-road watering hole towns like Molasses Junction, Spuds, Satsuma and Salt Springs. The roads would be flat and the scenery minimal, but it was a clear day warming up slowly and it promised to be an easy putt to Jewels place in time for a late lunch on her porch. I made a call warning her of our arrival, set the GPS for a leisurely ride, and fired up my bike, signaling time to mount up and ride.

Arianne fell in behind me and Lance took up the rear - she did look good on her scooter, boots thrown out on her forward controls and hair blowing in the breeze. I sure hope Lance cheered up a little bit.

A little past 1pm we slowed as the three of us approached the entrance in the fence, signaling the driveway into the ranch. Spanish Moss hung everywhere, majestic old oaks competed for any available sunlight in the overhead canopy and years of fallen leaves painted the ground a consistent brown, nearly devoid of green anywhere, except in the treetops.

Before the bikes eased up to the eating porch, the screen door flew open, ejecting a familiar face. Maybe 5'4", long brown hair, with eyes that reminded me of a deer in headlights, and a smile to warm your heart - Jewel made her way over to my bike and wrapped her arms around me as only best friends can do. A quick kiss on the lips - nothing more than a husband watching from within would mind - and I began the introductions. Jewel was one of those people who warmed to anyone brought into her home by a friend. I guess it's a personality that you have to have in the Guest Ranch business.

After the introductions, including her two young daughters, and husband, who gave no indication he saw or objected to the kiss, we all sat in the screened porch reliving tales of the ride south and the purpose of the ride. We left off the medical aspects of it, saying only that this would likely be Lance's last ride across country, and left them with the impression he was giving up motorcycling for good, and this was his last hurrah.

You don't wanna hear all the smalltalk and gossip here - eventually we all settled into the lodge cabin across the yard from their house. Jewels husband, Carlton, just finished it last year and it was magnificent. A two bedroom Yellow Pine Log Lodge with great sitting room, kitchen and side porch was a fantastic place to get away and find some privacy. It was only 55 miles from Daytona and often accommodated the snowbirds who trailered down this far, unloaded their bikes and rode in from here, pretending to have ridden the whole way.

After dinner, the three of us and Jewel ended up on the Lodge's side porch and talked well into the night. Lance crapped out first, full of wine, beer, and the remnants of a joint he fished out of his vest pocket. We really hadn't settled on sleeping arrangements - I had assumed Arianne would stay with Lance, but he flopped on the bed in his room … above the covers and still wearing his boots. Jewel excused herself early as well, to attend to dishes and spend the rest of the evening with Carlton - who never really seemed to want to some over to chat when I came down.

Arianne and I stayed up for hours more - watching the moon sneak through the trees and reflect off the pond in the rear of the lodge. She seemed a little upset about Lance going to bed, and I took the opportunity to give her a little heads up on his situation.

I didn't get too morbid, only saying that he was going through some treatments for a serious condition - added 'non-contagious' for his sake - and emphasizing that this was likely gonna be his last ride. She asked questions about his life and particularly about any lady friends at the moment. My answer, I think, left her with no doubt that he was looking forward to seeing her this week, and that there were no other women to preoccupy his mind. My intention was to help him out, but I found it backfired a little. All that simply encouraged her to open more to me, telling me of her life, her passion for adventure and we found ourselves rocking on the porch side-by-side, often in silence, looking at the moon together until the chill in the air brought us to our senses and shuffled our feet in unison as we rose to go inside, presumably to our beds. I told her to give me a second to get my things out of my bedroom because I was going to take the sofa. Lance appeared not to have moved a muscle splayed all over his bed. She followed me into my room and closed the door behind her.

"You can stay in here if you want - it's a King-sized bed." Then she added with a smile, "I won't bite."

I took a long second to look at her, smiled, and said, "After last night, I'm afraid it's me who'd bite." Kissed her on the cheek, and brought my stuff out to the Great Room to take up residence on the sofa. I did notice, though, that she left her door cracked open several inches as I listened to the noises coming from her bathroom, heard her footsteps on the creaky floorboards and watched the light in her room go out. I like women as much as the next guy, but didn't care to wake up with Lance's disapproving glare at having slept with his girl. This is gonna be a long week!

The two nights at the ranch went by quickly. It was our first break from the road and it felt good to sit around doing very little. Lance slowly regained his strength and humor.

The pond out back proved to be an interesting excursion. The four of us, Lance and Arianne, and Jewel and I, took the six-wheeled Gator made by John Deere to the back reaches of the ranch. Every now and then Lance hopped out to open gates designed to keep the horses in their proper paddocks. Jewel would offer carrots and apples to the ones who showed interest and shout greetings to those who didn't. The path surrounding the 5 acre pond was well groomed and apparently used often enough to keep it that way. We stopped several times to marvel at the resident alligators, and take a hit or two from Arianne's one-hitter.

Before dinner that second night, the four of us took a short bike ride through the countryside, down the old fire roads, and stopping at country stores for gas and a cold beer. Carlton stayed behind to watch the kids, work on the jeeps and let Jewel enjoy her friendship with me in my back seat.

Night number two was a near repeat of the first except Lance stayed awake this time and allowed me to sleep in my own bed - Arianne joining him. I could smell her perfume on the pillows and began to regret sleeping on the couch the night before. From the sounds emanating from the room on the other side of the log partition, Lance was firming up his own friendships over there.

A call back home to Kim from under the covers revealed that all was well, and we spoke about her upcoming flight to Miami, where I would pick her up for a ride through the keys. Tickets were in place and confirmed, and the half-hour conversation confirmed that I really missed having her around. I do enjoy my solo's but more than 28 years of marriage often results in simply missing your wife when she's not around - not a lot of difficulty in figuring out that one.

The morning of our final moments at the ranch found us all on their eating porch - a large room attached to their kitchen, with screened windows on 3 sides and picnic tables set up for dining. Carlton and I were discussing an idea for a new money-making web-based business and Jewel busied herself with serving a breakfast that I knew would stay with me for hours, the first few of them uncomfortably full. There was more food on the table than we could possibly eat and more on the way. Lance and Arianne seemingly connected at the forehead as they laughed and toyed with each other from the next table over.

I was deep into and enjoying my conversation with Jewel's husband when I noticed she was sitting on the other side of my picnic table, settled, attentive and somewhat staring. When Carlton excused himself to attend to some of his workers who were helping him build a new workshop, she leaned forward and cupped her chin in her hands.

"Guess what I did last week?"

"Switched to boxers?" I know it was lame but ya gotta come back with something quick. If all I had was a long inquisitive silence following a question like that would be a sure sign of stupidity in my book. A reply like mine is damned near as stupid, but it was a sincere effort.

She giggled and kinda snorted a little bit. She leaned a little closer as if to tell a wild secret that only I should hear, "I passed my Motorcycle Skill Test and got an endorsement on my license!"

I knew she was thinking of buying one and expected she'd be working towards it. Carlton wasn't all that keen on her buying one, but ever since I blew into town many years ago, and captured her interest with my stories of the road, she had talked about buying a bike and experiencing the adventure of the open road herself, so this was no great shock.

"And when do you put your down payment on yer bike?" I knew I should have sounded more surprised and excited for her, but hey, if she's gonna start riding a Harley, she's gotta start acting less girly and assume the attitude, right?

Her reaction was as I expected… a little pout, a harummmppphhh, and a hurt look in her eyes. "awww, you know I'm proud of ya, darlin', congratulations. But the adventure doesn't start til you straddle your own motorsickle and putt off into the sunset, you know that!"

I reached out and took her hand in mine. Ya gotta know that I did this only after seeing Carlton out in the yard between the buildings headed in the opposite direction. "Make ya a deal… next year I'll come down here and you'll finally have your Dyna in the shed with a couple thousand miles under your bloomers and we'll head off into the sunset together. In the meantime, how bout following us over to Daytona in your car, we go off on a ride together, couple beers on the beach at a place I know up north of Ormond Beach, and when you feel like you have to come home, you have yer car there and can head on back, eh?"

We had talked about this a few times prior to the trip and she had already gotten Carlton's blessing, having sized me up over the past couple years as someone not about to fool with his wife. What he didn't know is that under the right circumstances, he'd have guessed wrong, and we hadn't started drinking yet. The charade was just starting, though I could say with a straight face that since they'd been married she and I hadn't so much as … well, that ain't true, but let's just say we weren't biblically familiar.

"I'm ready, silly… just waiting on you guys to pack up and I'll follow you." Every year, Jewel and I took off on some kind of a ride together. Whether it was through the back roads around her place or a trip to the Rally, she was always looking forward to some road time with me. Her father rode a bike, but that ain't the same, now is it?

Within 20 minutes, dishes were cleared, bikes loaded and idling under the oaks, and gearshifts all clanked in unison as we pulled out, turned right onto highway 316 and headed toward Daytona, 55 miles away. Jewel was in front leading the way, I suspect so she could keep an eye on the bikes in her rear view mirror, dreaming about her day on her bike, riding with friends. I could see her grin in the mirror. Checking my own mirror Arianne was smiling as well, but Lance looked like he was in distress, doubled over against his tank, one arm cradling his torso. I rode the rest of the way with an eye on the mirror looking for signs of a deepening problem.

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