Date: Fri, 6 Jan 95 16:00:39 PST
Title: Metal Bars

>X-Sender: dellis@pop.sdsc.edu
>Mime-Version: 1.0
>Date: Fri, 6 Jan 1995 07:43:55 -0700
>To: bonniew@cerf.net
>From: dellis@sdsc.edu (Dick Ellis)
>Subject: Metal Bars
>
>Good Morning,
>
>By the time she was able to look at the clock it was breaktime.  15
>minutes. She walked outside near the parking lot, feeling the warm La Jolla Air
>with whisps of fog blowing across the distant field.  Shivering, in the
>parking lot, was parked a Harley with the name HARLEY painted in bright
>YELLOW on black background, across the side of the gas tank.  "Hi Harley,"
>she said approaching the machine.  She thought she was being pretty bold
>but Harley started looking a bit warmer on her approach.
>
>As she mounted Harley her thoughts were on the beach down in Baja with warm
>deep sands and the mingling of desert and beachlands.  They were the best
>days and Harley brought it all back to her.  As Harley floated away no one
>noticed the faint glow about them, just that they were damned happy
>together.  Harley was headed for Bikers.  It was to be a test and she knew
>it.  She also knew she could survive any trivia because she had seen the
>dark side too many times.  Metal Bars were no strangers to her both
>psychologically and -- historically.  She could feel her neck muscles
>tighten as her thoughts wandered back over the years she never mentioned to
>anyone.
>
>Harley wanted to roar away and become the thundering chaser of Ichabod
>Crane.  Harley wanted to rev to 8000 RPM and put fear into the hearts of
>those other bikes and bikers at Bikers.  Harley wanted to be heard above
>the din of metal coming from the heart of Bikers, but instead sat trembling
>in the Center's parking lot in La Jolla as the breeze blew whisps of fog
>across the expanse overlooking the freeway below.
>Suddenly there she was, not 3 feet away, reading "HARLEY" aloud and saying
>"hi".  Harley could imagine her, astride the wide saddle, clinging, with
>feet on the pegs slowly turning the throttle creating revs.  "Ride me,"
>Harley thought, and noticed the warming as her hand stroked Harley's front
>fender.  She was wearing a trenchcoat with hiking boots, no socks.  Harley
>was beginning to float and she was aboard.  Her large boots were pushing
>down on Harley's foot pegs. As her thighs and knees tightened on Harley's
>saddle Harley reved to 5000 RPM just to see if it was appropriate.  Her
>large warm damp hand caressed Harley's exiguous throttle and suddenly the
>revs were at  8500.
>
>ex.i.gu.ity \.ek-s*-'gyu:-*t-e-, .eg-z*-\ n : exiguous state or character :
>   SCANTINESS, SMALLNESS
>
>Bikers was quiet and became quieter when she and Harley arrived. When she
>walked into Bikers no one was impressed until she pulled Jake over to the
>side and ordered the spinach salad tray.  "Make it clean," she said, and
>check the bench at my table for Big Wet Spots.  Jake could see the tears in
>her eyes and felt that maybe her past was catching up with her.  He thought
>maybe her grey unblinking eyes deserved a tear now and again as he turned
>to retrieve her spinach-on-metal and find a dry place for her to sit.
>
>
>Not the cry, but the flight of the wild duck, leads the
>        flock to fly and follow.
>
>Have a great day -- get out in the SUN!!
>Love ya,
>d.
>

Dick E.
================================
Dick Ellis, Librarian
534-5171 (voice)
534-5117 (fax)
dellis@sdsc.edu