The Terror #wattys2017 #TNTHorrorContest

Newcombs Ranch

The bikes start to show up at around 7:30. They don't open their doors at Newcomb's till 8:30 or so, but it gives the regulars a chance to stand around and gab with their thermoses full of coffee stuffed in their leather jackets or backpacks. These are all older sporting type bikes, some old some new, some hand made by the riders themselves.  These kat's are long riders who have been riding for fifty years or more. This is not a hobby, this is their life, this was the reason they lived, and most would live out their lives on their bike's seat.

These are mostly non-American motorcycles, fifties and sixties Triumph's, BMW's, Nortons, BSA's, Ducati's and the odd Moto Guzzi or Honda 750. The Harley's and small two stroke Suzuki's and Yamaha's show up after the doors open.  They came for breakfast and coffee and a warm place to sit after a cold ass morning through the canyon.  They came in groups and alone, some packing passengers, mostly solo, some tourists who heard Jay Leno shows up there.

Today the old albino guy showed up on his Knucklehead Harley, donning his leather helmet, goggles and his fringed suede jacket that looked like it had been through WW2. He leaned the old girl over on her kickstand, hit the kill switch and it rumbled to a stop. He was a tall lanky man, maybe 6',2" in his Levi's and beaded moccasins.  He waved to the guys sitting outside on the patio and went inside where the kid behind the counter took notice and motioned for him to go around back to the kitchen.

Jimmy went through the stainless steel swinging doors to an office on the back wall.  Sitting behind the desk in the small office was a portly man with a full gray beard who stood as soon as he saw his old friend and put out his hand to shake. Jimmy pulled off his gloves before shaking his outstretched hand.  

"Have a seat ya old cuss, how the hell ya been?" said the man behind the desk.

"Good, good, everything is fine; and you?

"Same shit, different day."

"It's been a while, good to see ya Jack; how's tricks?

"Well, Sherry got married, that's pretty new, cost me a second mortgage." He said with a giggle and a nod.

"That is new, I'm sure you made sure he was proper husband material," He pulled his tobacco pouch out of his pocket and started rolling a cigarette.

Jack motioned outside the door for someone to bring two coffees.

"What's new with you old wizard? Got any new spells you wanna share."

Jimmy laughed, "Nothing like that, not today any way."

"So what brings you to my precipice my friend. Your not the bench racing type, what can I do you for?

Jimmy lit his homemade smoke just as the coffee arrived.

"I always liked these big ass mugs you've got, and the mud just the way I likes it."

"You didn't come here to tell me about my coffee mugs did you?

"Not exactly no, I have a situation and I was hoping you could be of assistance in my plight. You see...there's this kid I've been working with and I'm afraid it's bound to get a little, how should I say, wonky."

"Not again." Jack responded as if he knew what was coming next.

"I'm afraid so, I was wondering if you couldn't let me use the place...again."

Jack takes a drink of his coffee and asks, "Roll me one of those coffin nails would you buddy?"

The miner rolls another smoke for his friend, Jack says, "you know you don't need my permission. It's always available for your crazy wizardly shit as far as I'm concerned. It's not like anyone's round there your gonna bother."

Jimmy passes the home made cigarette to jack and pulls out his Zippo lighter to light it for him. "I have to ask every time I go there so as not to anger the gods, not to mention I have to make an offering to said owner of the property, so smoke this fine tobacco as my offering my friend"

Jack takes a long drag, "smooth; you grow this?"

"I get it imported to me from a friend in the rain forests near Peru. Not your everyday stuff, it comes with a blessing."

"You are the freakiest motherfucker I have ever seen Jimmy, you spooky tooth weirdo. I loves you anyway, you and your old ass Knucklehead. You aught to come around a little more often, can I get you something to eat, got a helluva good chili in the kitchen."

"Maybe another time, I got to be on my way," He finished his cup of coffee.  "Good stuff that! Thanks for the mud, be good my friend, catch you further down the line."