Though the night had taken on a chill Jimmy decided to take the bike to the cafe. Sometimes riding brought his awareness up a couple notches and he felt like that was something he needed right about now. He inherited the old Harley Knucklehead along with everything else on the property from his father. It was a bone stock unrestored 1939 Harley Davidson Knucklehead that his daddy had bought brand new.
Daddy had named her Betty and the name had stuck. Jimmy kept her just the way he got her from his Dad and always parked her in the garage, always clean, always perfectly maintained. Betty had almost a hundred thousand on the clock on the same motor and trans, had a few leaks that were unavoidable. The brown tarnished leather on the big sprung seat took on the look of a well-worn saddle and the paint had the patina that only forty some odd years could create. What little chrome there was had long ago faded but there was no rust, Jimmy loved the way she looked saying, "Human beings can't create the look old Betty has, only time and nature can provide that level of beauty."
It was a kick only sixty-one cubic inch V- Twin that didn't require much of a kick to get her going. Parts that have known each other as long as old Betty's knew how to cooperate. There was a time, when Jimmy was a younger man, that he could actually start the old beast with his hand, just to show off, but these days he used his well-oiled boot. Starting was a procedure that if varied from would piss Betty off and she wouldn't start for an hour. First, he turned on the gas with a knob that was on top of the gas tank, two cranks on the throttle and kick it through twice before turning on the ignition, retard the magneto, turn on the switch and crank the kicker until the motor was at top dead center and the one good kick!
She rattled to life and idled with that familiar sound potato potato potato potato. The whole bike shook a little as she sat and warmed while Jimmy put on his deerskin gloves, zipped up his buckskin jacket and straddled the seat. He switched on the dim six volt light that dimmed and brightened with engine RPM, depressed the foot clutch and dropped her in first gear with the tank shift and off they went, echoing through the canyon like a banshee to see Rose for dinner.
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The Terror #wattys2017 #TNTHorrorContest
Horror1971, it was the summer of drugs. In a small semi rural town called Sunland/Tujunga Merril Graves discovers life through hallucinogenics and the horrors of the mind....
