The Biker's Fate Chapter 512

"Okay, Mom. Thanks." I answered the call. "Hey, French Fry."

"Hey, Tater Tot."

We sat in silence for a few seconds and then I heard his sigh through the phone.

"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," he said.

"Sorry you didn't listen because Madison's a slu…" I caught myself and channeled my inner kindness, limited though it was. "…um, a not so nice person, or because you got an 'F' on your test?"

"Can it be both?"

I shrugged. "I guess so."

"I don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"I never wanted to be mad at you in the first place," I pointed out. "If I'm really your best friend, shouldn't you listen to what I have to say before Madison shoves her boobies in your face?"

"But… they're boobs."

I glanced at my still flat chest and wrinkled my nose. "Gross, Parker."

He chuckled. "Sorry."

"I have to go."

"Wait," Flash said. "Seriously, I'm sorry. I promise I'll be better about listening to your advice, okay?"

"Actions speak louder than words."

"I know. I swear at god."

I sighed.

"Swear at God" was an expression used only between me and Flash. Sacred words born from a childhood pact.

When we were little, Flash would come to my house every day to play right after school. Our days were filled with seeing which of us could swing higher on my swing set (usually me) or ride our bikes faster (always Flash). His mother always said Flash was born on wheels. He was only two when he learned to ride a bike and never once used training wheels. His pride and joy, until recently, had been his first 50cc mini-bike. It was a Christmas present and his first step to being a grown-up biker like his dad.

One day when Flash didn't come around to play like usual, I walked over to his house to find him alone in his back yard crying. His face was covered in a muddy mixture of gardening soil and tears.

"What's wrong, Flash?" I asked, planting my knee in the dirt beside him. "How come you're out here by yourself?"

"I have to pull all the weeds in the whole backyard," he said, pointing to an already overflowing bucket full dirt and dandelions.

"How come?" I asked.

"Because I lost my new mini-bike," he said, unable to hold back another torrent of tears.

"Lost? How?"

"I rode it over to Julian's house to play video games and didn't lock it up. Then, when I came out, it was gone."

"Well, if it's lost then I can help you find it. Come on," I said with all the confidence of a junior detective about to set out on her next case.

"I can't," Flash sniffled. "I'm supposta stay back here until all the weeds are gone and learn how to be…more…sponsible… with my things." Flash was sobbing now.

I'd seen Flash cry after falling off his bike, or when Artax sank into the swamp of sadness in The NeverEnding Story, but never like this.

"It's okay. I'm sure your parents know you didn't mean to lose your bike," I said, patting his back.

"It's not that," he cried.

"What is it, then?"

"It's a secret," Flash replied, looking around to make sure no grownups were nearby.

"You can tell me your secret," I said.

"You have to swear to god you won't tell anyone," he demanded.

"I'm not supposed to do that," I whispered. "Mom says it's bad."

"Well, then I'm not going to tell you the secret."

I bit my lip and sighed. "Okay, fine, but don't tell anyone I did."

"I won't."

I dropped my head back, looked up to the heavens, and timidly squeaked out, "Shit."

"What are you doing?"

"Swearing at god," I replied.

"What?"

"I know that word is a swear because my dad says it whenever he's fixing something around the house and Mommy told me not to repeat it."

"No, swear to god, not at god. That's a different kind of swear."

"Well, what do you know?" I asked, the flush of embarrassment burning my cheeks. "But now that I've done it, you have to. Or else God will just think I'm mad at him or something."

"Okay fine," he said. "But once we've both sworn at God, then you can never tell anyone my secret, okay?"

I nodded.

Flash looked around once more to make sure the coast was clear and whisper shouted, "Fart."

I giggled. "I don't think fart is a swear word."

"Okay, then. I have a good one," he said, before launching his second attempt at blasphemy up to the clouds. "Asshole."

"What does that mean?" I asked, my eyes as wide as saucers.

"It's what mommy calls the other drivers when we're in the car."

"Okay, now that we both sweared, what's your secret?"

Flash looked down and whispered, "I didn't lose my bike."

"You didn't?" I asked excitedly. "That's great. Just tell your parents and we can go play."

Flash shook his head. "I didn't lose it, but I don't have it either."

"I don't understand," I said.

"I didn't forget to lock it up at Julian's house. Someone… ah… took it from me."

"Who took it?" I asked, but I already knew the answer.

"S…Scott Benson," Flash said.

Scott was the youngest of the four Benson Boys. A group of serial bully brothers and constant menace to everyone our age. No playground or park was safe.

"Why didn't you tell your parents? Why did you tell them it was your fault?"

"Because I didn't want them to know," he replied.

"Why? Your parents could talk to Scott's mom and get your mini-bike back. Plus, then you won't be in trouble anymore."

"I'll be in more trouble with Scott if I tell on him to a grown up."

Flash's words made me sad, but I understood his logic. He may have been right. Pulling weeds was better than getting punched in the mouth, but Scott stealing Flash's prized possession was crossing the line, and if Flash wasn't going to get a grownup involved, justice would have to be served by a kid.

My older brother had been that kid, returning Flash's bike without any parents ever being the wiser. Scott had come to school the next day with a busted-up lip and never bothered Flash again.

"Wanna come over for dinner and video games tomorrow night?" he asked, pulling me from my memory.

"I'll ask my parents, but that sounds fun."

"We can do it Saturday if that doesn't work," he added.

"Mom's taking me and Hay to the Melody Morgan concert."

Melody Morgan was the be all and end all for me and my sister and no one was going to get in the way of us getting to her concert. Not even Flash Wallace.

"Oh yeah, I forgot. Cool. See you tomorrow," he said. "Bye."

"Bye."

I hung up, then headed downstairs for ice cream.