Chasing After The Wind 3:4

   4)

Well rested and the both of us waking at full speed we were back on the road by 9 the following morning. We hopped onto interstate 25 headed north towards Santa Fe from which we held the intention to ride up through Taos before setting our sights on the Colorado border somewhere. We weren’t 15 miles outside of town however when we realized just how fortunate we had been the night prior as we’d hurtled into the storm at foolish speeds trying to pass through it on our way to Albuquerque. It was about the midway point between the two cities that we were forced to a halt as the cars backed up on the highway in front of us. I veered to the shoulder to get a better look at what lay up ahead and I damn near clipped a temporary orange road sign that read “danger water on road” and jerking the bike back onto the highway quick as we came to a full stop I hollered over to Johnny,

“Roads washed out ahead!”

“For real?!” He asked back over the motorcycles loping.

“Apparently so!… good thing we didn’t push on last night!” I hollered back.

A few minutes later as we slow rolled down the desert hillside we came upon an arroyo that had completely inundated the interstate. We could see on the easterly side of both the north and southbound lanes numerous cars packed to their hubcaps in drying mud as they lay stranded in the wash out zone. Some as far off the northbound lane as fifty feet or better and I could see plainly the remnant of the current that had swept over the interstate in its fury and left the damage in its wake. When we got to the lowest point we had to lift our legs up to traverse the water that was still a half foot deep or better as we throttled through it. But once on the far side the cars in front of us began to speed back up and in another mile Johnny and I were weaving into and out of traffic yet again as we rode towards Santa Fe in the relatively cooler morning temperatures where we planned to stop in the old Spanish Mission there for breakfast. We turned off at the Cerrillos Road exit and took it through town towards the iconic Plaza. Riding near we found most of the roads had been blocked off. A security guard saw us and waved us through as she pulled back the makeshift wooden gate and directed us to a place that we could park where she would be stationed so as to keep an eye on the bikes. Johnny handed her a 20$ bill for her troubles as he asked her for the best local spot to grab breakfast.

“Well how local do you want it?” She asked.

“English optional and healthy portions.” He quipped back.

“Tia Sophia’s is where you want to go then. And make sure to order the huevos rancheros.” she said.

“Tia Sophia’s it is!” Johnny replied as we thanked her.

Walking through the plaza towards the breakfast joint we realized rather quickly that we were in the midst of a weekend flea market of sorts; and that being so we became sidetracked looking at the many artisans creations that were either encased in small wooden tables with glass tops or were rolled out onto the ground on top of handwoven rugs or burlap sacks.  Upon them were thousands of pieces of handmade jewelry and trinkets formed of silver and turquoise, lapis lazuli, opal, and onyx; and behind them were the smiling faces of those from the local Native American communities as they peered up at Johnny and I from beneath the shade formed by the line of adobe huts that stretched alongside the open courtyard. We were digging the scene, man. Johnny was itching to make a purchase as he relished in the local flare. He had the excitement of a tourist on their fist day of vacation as he carefully inspected one piece or another while attempting to negotiate a “fair deal” as he repeatedly stated while we continued along towards the diner.

Once at Tia Sophia’s we were seated by a jovial and pudgy Native American woman who spoke only broken English, her face was deeply tanned and her dark hair was pulled into braids that ran in two twisting knots down her back and reminded me of the kind lady from the auto-parts store up in Browning, Montana. I was amused by Johnny’s continued exuberance regarding the novelty of the ambiance as he made fast friends with each and every stranger we maneuvered passed on our way to a couple of stools lining a small counter in front of the arched opening where the food was placed when it was ready to be served. One of the waitresses asked us what we’d have as she prepared a tray full of platters for one of her tables. Johnny taking the security guards recommendation ordered the huevos rancheros, and I ordered a Santa Fe styled omelet with hash browns.

“Salsa?” She asked Johnny in her haste.

“Yes ma’am! As spicy as you got.”  He answered the gal. Her eyes got big and she all but stopped what she was doing immediately as she solicited confirmation that he was certain about that. Johnny nodded that he most definitely was to which the waitress simply shrugged her shoulders before rolling her eyes at me and carrying on.

“So didn’t want to say anything,… but the check engine light came on on my bike.” Johnny said as we waited.

“And it stayed on?” I inquired.

“Yeah man, it lit up as I started the bike this morning.  Hoped it would go off but it didn’t. Noticed the bike lurching a bit as we rode. Whattya think?”

“Well I’d say this is likely the last town that will have a Harley dealership for quite a while. Probably until Sturgis.  So we might want to have it looked at.”

“That’s my thought also. I’m going to run outside quick and call Eagle Riders and see what they recommend. I can barely hear myself think in here.” He said excusing himself.

The cafe was noisy and quaint but I loved the bustle and the local flare to it was spot on as advertised. Nothing worse in my opinion than traveling and not seeking out the local restaurants and businesses while on the road;…and for that matter, lodging too when possible. Homogenized corporate travel is not for me, man. So I was right where I wanted to be as I watched the scene playing out. The waitresses, most of whom were of Hispanic or Native American heritage were running around tirelessly as they worked. And through the archway I could see the line cooks talking only in Spanish who were sweating away over the hot griddles and flattops. When our waitress brought the food over she looked to me yet again as she set Johnny’s plate on the counter in front of his stool and said,

“That boy es loco! The salsa es muy caliente!” And she was snickering at me as she walked away.  I grinned before saying a blessing over my plate and I set in. Johnny walked back in shortly thereafter and seeing his plate covered in both the green and pasty red salsa he said,

“Now thats what I’m talking about!”,  as he grabbed his fork. After saying a quick blessing over his meal also he too filled his fork full and had hardly even begun to chew on the first bite before he began to gasp for air while reaching for his glass of water…and then my glass of water too…and then I think he looked around for a fire hose even as he huffed and fanned his opened mouth. The waitress who had lingered at the beverage machine, once she saw him sit back down, wanting to see him take that first bite looked at me again and we both laughed out loud, “Loco!…es loco!” She said amidst her laughter as she shook her head at Johnny while filling up a pitcher full of water and setting in front of him.

“Hot?” I asked him deadpan.

“Bro, seriously. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever tasted. But fuck its delicious too.” He answered while continuing to shovel it down and exhausting any sympathy I had garnered for him amidst my laughter. But he wasn’t lying… the meal was delicious.

“So what did they say about the bike?” I asked him between bites.

“They said I should run it by the local Harley dealership. Let them see if it’s anything or not. Hopefully not. But would rather know for certain.”

“Yeah makes sense,… puts us behind the 8-ball again but nothing to do about it. Better than getting stranded in the middle of nowhere I guess.”

“Yeah man, I’m sorry for the holdups, Henry. The hangover yesterday I’ll take ownership of, but this one isn’t really my fault, ya know?”

“Oh dude, no worries honestly, yesterday was pure comedy for me. And the motorcycle,.. that shit happens,.. hopefully it’s nothing.”

Unfortunately it was not nothing. The motorcycle Johnny rented had a timing issue in the cam. We settled on leaving the motorcycle with the dealership to work on the rest of the morning into the afternoon in the hopes it would be ready to roll sometime before the mechanics went home for the day. In the meantime the fine folks at the dealership offered us a steady supply of cold beer to stay hydrated with while we waited.  The apparel manager there befriended the two of us as we roamed around the showroom catching a cheap buzz and mingling with the other riders who came and went.  She was an attractive brunette probably in her early 50’s who dressed like a rock star all decked out with rings and necklaces and wearing a low cut and loose fitting button up blouse. Her name was Cassidy; and Johnny was flirting with her any chance he could too, especially once he had a few beers in him. After we had waited for a few hours hoping for a best case scenario she finally came back over to us while we lounged,

“Boys, the bike probably won’t be done until around the time we close this evening. The mechanic thinks he can have it ready to roll by the time he leaves though. So not what we hoped for but if you were thinking of staying the night here in town I can get you a discounted room just across the street if you’d like.”

“It doesn’t sound like we have much of a choice. Whattaya think Johnny?”

“Guess we are staying in Santa Fe tonight. Anything going on?” He replied. Pivoting quickly as he directed his question towards Cassidy with eager anticipation.

“There is actually. There’s a Tom Petty tribute band playing down in the old Santa Fe Rail Yard tonight. Right outside of a brewery there. I helped book the band for them. They are really good. Me and a friend are going if you’d like to meet us?” She answered him.

And Johnny perked right up having heard what he was hoping to; but still tried to play it cool as he responded,

“Yeah maybe we’d do that for a bit.”

“Cassidy, if it’s no trouble we’d definitely take you up on the room though.” I added.

“It's no trouble at all, Henry.” She said. “Just give me a few minutes and let me get it arranged and I’ll be right back.”

Once she walked off Johnny turned to me;  his eyes wide open and raising his eyebrows as if to insinuate something only I had no idea what that might be and could only imagine it had something to do with Cassidy inviting us out to join her for the evening.

“Silver linings,…Tom Petty…live music…brewery…pretty ladies…could’ve been far worse, Henry. Far worse!” Johnny said raising his brow after each pause. And I sat there lounged into the pleather couch as I laughed with him in agreement; but not one to let him off the hook so easily I joked with him by saying,

“You did hear the tribute band part of that right?”

“Bro, the songs are the songs…. It’s a sign! Think about it…Tom Petty…us together on the road…??” He responded while looking at me in a way that presumed the connection was apparent.

“Yeah … and…?” I inquired when it was not.

“Our first concert, man! Tom Petty’s greatest hits tour.. Riverport Amphitheater in St. Louis! Remember we took your parents van…what did we call it again?…”

“Oh… shit that's right, man, the Scroggin’ Wagon! That was an all time night, dude. Remember we drove all over town looking for someone to buy us beer and then once we did and we finally got on the road a state trooper pulled out right in front of us on the highway so we were forced to pour the beer into Huck’s cups and drink it out of a straw as we followed behind him for like forty miles all the way to Mt Vernon?”

“Uh yeah…. and Peterman?…he was the one who got us all the tickets, remember, and then on the drive he got so drunk in the back that he passed out and we had to carry him into the show only for him to lay there out cold on the lawn all the way until Petty came out for the encore!”

“Dude, Peterman, Yes! What happened to that kid I wonder.”

“Bro, no lie he’s naval intelligence now. Runs logistics for the entire pacific fleet!”

“Unbelievable.”

“Yeah and Coker, remember him?”

“Absolutely I do. Fucking dude got laid that night because he was drinking Zima, man. And we were giving him hell about it the whole drive there too. Dude was a linebacker and was drinking that foo foo horse piss, for fucks sake.”

“Yeah and the girls came up after the show and were like, ‘hey guys we know it’s stupid to even ask but do any of y’all have any Zima we could buy off you?’  Fucking Coker leapt out of the back of the van like he was chasing down another teams quarterback too.” And now Johnny and I were laughing hysterically right there in the middle of the showroom floor, “and so like I was saying Tom Petty, bro,… its a sign!”

And we laughed for a bit longer before I then got all fake serious as I became stern and Johnny did too thinking I was about to say something more or less profound and instead I said in jest,

“Yeah but wouldn’t it just be a tribute to a sign, really?”, and I burst into laughter again as I watched  Johnny hang on the edge for a second longer until he realized I was just being sarcastic before he started laughing again too.

“Oh fuck you, bro! Tribute to a sign! I really thought you had something to say.”

And we were still wiping the tears from our eyes from laughing so hard when Cassidy came back over to us once more with a look of befuddled curiosity. I think from trying to surmise why Johnny and I were doubled over laughing out loud in the middle of the showroom floor as we were, but no matter as she handed us her business card before saying,

“Just let Tonya know I sent you when you get over to the motel. I was able to take care of the room for you boys tonight.” And Johnny hearing that rose quick from his lounger and standing all upright as he looked my way while slowly nodding his head like that was further confirmation that it was in fact a sign from the Universe that we were to be in Santa Fe, New Mexico for the night.  And who knows, man, maybe it was. “My cell number is on the back.” She continued. “Shoot me a message later on. We will be down there around 8.”

Johnny and I thanked her…well I thanked her and Johnny thanked her with a hug also before he and I grabbed our packs from off the ground and headed for the motel across the street.

Around 6 we got a call from the dealership and they told us Johnny’s bike was ready to roll. So we walked back over and got the bikes and rode them back across the street to the motel. Parking them under the pull through canopy out front there was an old timer who was sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette and as we were hopping off the motorcycles he said to us,

“You know in my day, me and the gang would ride into town and roll right up to the sheriffs station and walk on in with our pistols showing just so he knew who was gonna be running things for as long as we were in town. We rode rigid’s back then…”

He spoke in a low gruff rasp and wore an old patterned pearl snap buttoned shirt and a pair of ragged old jeans and duct taped boots; and seeing him as he was I wondered if I wasn’t looking right at the missing link between the old west and the modern west, man. The fella seemed to personify that sweep of time to me. He could have told me he’d ridden with a band of outlaws by horseback all the same and I would have believed it possible. I just shook my head and marveled. Johnny didn’t seem to get the old man the same way I did so he just nodded as he walked passed on his way back up to the room.

“Aww hell, I bet you could ride one of these new bikes, here. They damn near ride themselves.” I said to the old man.

“Do they now? Shit son they don’t even have carberuators anymore.”

“No sir they are fuel injected. But the play between the clutch and the throttle hasn’t changed much in the last 40 years. Wanna see if we can’t toss a leg over?”

“Ya serious with me now, son?”

“Yessir.”

“Well then…” he said as he rose to his feet with the help of an old wooden cane before walking over near where I had my bike parked and he gave it a good once over and after that I helped him to keep his balance as he slowly inched his ragged leather cowboy boot over the seat and basically fell into the saddle. “Jesus Christ,” he said as he looked at me, “how do I even start the machine?”

I showed him where the ignition button was and pressing it the motor barked to life and he sat there with a smile now carved onto his face as he twisted the throttle and felt the motor revving beneath him.

“Take her up the block if you think you can manage.” I said to the old man. But it was like he was somewhere else. He just kept twisting the throttle and then letting it loose as he pulled in the clutch only to twist the throttle again. And then I saw it too… out before his eyes. And I watched the road unfold in his gaze as he ripped through the gears and leaned ever so slightly from side to side. He was in another place, man. In another time. On another road. Maybe running from that law. Maybe running towards a woman. Who knows really thats just what I’ve liked to tell myself in the time since he and I stood there beneath that pale yellow and stark Santa Fe sky that evening as he remembered his own story still calling to him from within the depths of his weary mind. You can have your glory, man. I’ll have mine too. And somehow that is what I felt…a haggard and worn out glory that felt true. And earned in that way also. The look in the old mans eyes was the same look I imagined were in my eyes when I was riding them western roads. I had worried so many times that if I ever stopped my wandering that those roads would close up in my mind like a portal and with time fade into the darkness of forgotten memories. But I knew it then that wasn’t going to be so. And it filled me with a deep satisfaction.

“Quite a bike, young buck. If I’d of had a sled like this when I was a younger man, … they’d still be chasing after me. The sons of bitches.”

“They’d have never caught up to you, eh?”

“Not a chance in hell.” He said as he let loose of the throttle one last time and the motor bawled to a lull. And the old man killed the ignition and started to stand up and he was wobbling over the saddle as he put his hand on my shoulder, and then his arm, and then the full weight of his side as I dragged him back from off the bike. And I helped him back to the bench where he had been sitting when we’d pulled up and he drew another cigarette from his shirt pocket and lit it up. “Where you boys headed?”

“Making our way to Sturgis.” I answered the man.

The old timer just nodded his head as he drew another pull from his cigarette and looked out at the road. I stood there for a minute waiting for him to speak further but he never did. He was chewing on his lower lip and I could tell he was still somewhere else. Thinking about some thing else.

“It was nice chatting with you, sir.” I finally said.

“Yawp, You also.” Was all he said as I turned and walked inside the motels lobby.

Up in the room Johnny was sprawled out on his bed and shuffling through the channels when I walked in.

“What the hell were y’all doing down there? Jesus sounded like you were trying to blow up a motor.”

“Eh I let the old man throw his leg over the bike.”

“Well sounded like he was trying to burn it up.”

“ I think he was taking it for a ride in a way.  He just sat there pretending to run through the gears and stared at the empty parking lot in front of him but I’m pretty certain that wasn’t all of it.”

“Some ride.”

“It seemed so, man.” I replied as I shook my head from its daze. “The old mans still just sitting down there and looking at both of the motorcycles too.”

“Well I got ahold of Cassidy in the meantime and told her we’d meet her and her friend around 8.”

“What time is it now?”

“It’s getting there.”

“Alright I’ll hop in a shower quick and we can roll.”

“Take the bikes, ya think?”

“Why not,…it’ll let you test yours a bit to make sure its good to go for in the morning. We got a long day ahead of us if we want to make up for lost time.”

Half hour later we were walking back out the motels lobby and to the motorcycles. The old timer was still just sitting there looking at the bikes. I don’t think he’d moved except maybe to grab another cigarette as I noticed he was smoking a new candle when we walked nearby him and pulled the bikes off their kickstands.

“You know in my day,” he began, “me and the gang would ride into town and roll right up to the sheriffs station and walk on in with our pistols showing just so he knew who was gonna be running things for as long as we were in town. We rode rigid’s back then.”

And Johnny looked over at me and I at him. And Johnny shook his head. I just let it slide.

“Maybe we’ll see ya around, my friend.” I said to the old man.

But he was already somewhere else again. Still chewing on his bottom lip in between drags from his cigarette as we pulled away. It wasn’t more than a five minute ride through town from the motel before we saw the old Santa Fe Rail Yard off the road to our left. We rode up a block farther and pulled a u-turn and then rode the bikes right in along the makeshift metal railing that had been set up out front of the 2nd Street Brewery for the weekend events. The awning still hung over the old railroad platform where surely once travelers lined the elevated concrete divide between two of the rails coming and going where they may. An opening band was just finishing their set as we killed the motors. Cassidy stood inside the railing on the patio and was waving to us. She really was a fine looking woman and despite her being a decade or more older than myself she still had a look that I imagined many men chased after at any age. Johnny clearly agreed with me as he hopped off his bike with a cowboys swagger now in his gait and waved back.

“She’s kinda sexy, yeah?”

“Sure man.”

“I mean I’m not going to try anything, but you know, just sayin.”

“Sure man.” I said as I smirked at my pal. Because there we were, and just where Johnny had felt we we were meant to be at that, two strangers passing through, sauntering up to the shindig in the humid New Mexico night; and I was dialed into it.  There was a big crowd packed onto the patio and the overflow now gathering in front of the stage waiting for the main act to go on. We made our way through the crowd to where Cassidy stood against the bars rail in the corner. She had a round of beers waiting for us.

“I see they got the bike running! Good news, yeah?” She said.

“Absolutely! We’ll be on the road first thing.” Johnny said loudly back to her over the congregation.

“Henry, I think you have an admirer.” She said to me. “Cute thing too. Saw her eyes follow you over.”

“Not looking.” I responded hoping to leave it be. “So Cassidy, you booked this band for the brewery or…. I didn’t quite follow?” I inquired pivoting the conversation.

“Yeah they called over to the dealership a while back and asked if I could help them out and I recommended these guys. They got a good crowd out of it, so hopefully they like them as much as I do. It’s tough to beat Petty’s music.”

“His Greatest Hits Tour was the first concert Henry and I ever went to see. I told him it was a sign that they were playing here tonight.”

“It’s a Petty tribute band, Johnny…” Cassidy interjected.

“..thank you!..” I concurred as she and I chuckled.

“..yeah yeah a tribute band I get it…”

“…just didn’t want you getting your hopes up expecting a miracle, Johnny.” She finished saying as we all now laughed.

“I just meant it’s his songs, ya know; they survive right?” And Johnny was absolutely right about that.

“Some of my favorites!” Cassidy agreed. “I’m only teasing, Johnny.”

The three of us continued to chat with Johnny and Cassidy flirting whenever the opportunity arose in conversation and soon enough the band came onto the stage and dove right into their set by playing, Breakdown; and the crowd on the patio spilled towards the stage and everyone was having a time. The music sounded great. The lead singer had the same tone in his singing voice as the man, himself, and everyone who knew the words were singing along with him. Johnny kept running for beers for he and Cassidy while I sipped mostly from mine. Cassidy’s friend never showed and that was fine by me. Made it easier not to have to concern myself with the inevitable awkward small talk once Johnny and Cassidy got busy making decisions for the rest of the night I figured. I excused myself and walked out to mingle amongst the crowd in front of the stage.  The band was running through the greats but five or six songs in they shifted to a trio of songs from the Wildflowers album and that got me all wound up as I sang along like I was a background vocalist trying to steal the stage and I didn’t even care how bad I sounded; all that mattered was that the words burned into me and I was feeling good. You Wreck Me, gave way to Crawling Back to You, and lastly to one of my favorites of them all, Time To Move On; and I was digging the whole beautiful scene too as I howled out the lyrics and danced a little jig all by my lonesome, “which way to Love land, which way to something better, which way to forgiveness, which way do I go?” The band was dialed into it too and they had real talent, man, and I loved ‘em. But just as the crowd was really getting going almost like from out of nowhere and an hour into their set the wind picked up and the band was forced to suspend the show mid song just about the time the first bolt of lightning cracked over head and the thunder rumbled the ground. The rain came tumbling down all over me yet again and pummeled the rest of the crowd in droves too. I was able to slide my way through the dispersing crowd to get back beneath the canopied patio where I then wiggled my wet dog self to where Johnny and Cassidy stood still holding up a corner of the rail. The greater part of the crowd fled when it became apparent the rain wasn’t letting up for awhile. Over another beer Cassidy mentioned a great local haunt and asked us if we wanted to meet her there. Johnny pulled out his phone so she could show us the place on his map and seeing it was only a few blocks away we agreed we’d meet her there once the rain relented a bit. She told us they would have a local band playing also and that she figured some of the crowd would spill over that way too. Johnny and I stood there finishing our beers as Cassidy gave us both a hug and told us we better at least show up for one drink which we promised her we would. And then she left.

“Whatcha think, Henry? Want to go or no?”

“I’m good either way. Let’s go, don’t ya think?”

“One drink……two max….hotel by midnight.” Johnny said as he negotiated the terms, with himself mostly, as to how long we’d stay.

Once the rain tapered unto a slight drizzle as the storm lulled, and seeing the reprieve as our best bet not to get completely soaked, Johnny slammed down his and my beer and we rushed out and hopped on the bikes to scoot over to the place Cassidy had mentioned. It was called Tiny’s and was situated along the backside of a small row of businesses in a plaza nearby. There were plenty of cars lining the lot and a steady stream of patrons coming and going as we pulled up just as the rain began to fall more heavily again and we scampered for the door making it just in time to watch the torrent settle back in.

“I’m beginning to think you’re bad luck, Johnny.”

“What the rain?!”  he said worrying I was really questioning it. “Oh and the bike too,… I guess.”

“I mean I hadn’t seen a drop since I left the lake and now back to back days and a broken down bike in between. Maybe it is a sign after all.” I joked with him as we walked in. There along the bar which stretched the room on our left in what looked like a an old cantina really Cassidy was leaning against the brass lining to the wooden rail. She was talking with an older gentlemen as we made our way through the patrons mingling between the mahogany and a small dance floor to our right. On the stage which backed up against the front wall was a 7 piece band that was blowing trumpets and twanging guitars with an upright bass and a steel guitar next to the keyboards backed by the percussion of the drummers light rapport over the skins and a lovely young latina was singing alongside an older fella who accompanied her and they were putting out this great sound and it was booming too and I loved it straight away and was bopping my head instantly while couples of all ages, just like the bar in Livingston, Montana, were all dancing and twirling in a varying forms of the Texas two step and swing and even mariachi moves too and having a time. Johnny switched gears and was sipping from a rum and coke, and Cassidy ordered me another beer also.

“Welcome to Monsoon season!” she said as she lifted her bottle of beer to give cheers.

“Seeeee!!! It’s Monsoon Season, Henry! I’m not a curse!” Johnny hollered over my way as he and I laughed about it.

“What’s he mean by curse, Henry?” Cassidy asked me.

“Oh I was giving him hell on the way in that he might be a curse considering I hadn’t seen a drop of rain in over a month before meeting up with him yesterday.” I replied and now keyed into the joke she laughed too.

“He’s off the hook on that one. But I’m certain he’ll get you into trouble sooner than later just the same.”

“Oh I see how it’s gonna be.” Johnny clamored sarcastically.

“Someones gotta keep you in line!” She said.

“Hey now.” He quipped back as he leaned in to whisper something into her ear.

“Oh my! Trouble indeed, Henry!” Cassidy said as she blushed but only for a moment before the older gentlemen she’d been talking to at the bar walked over with four shot glasses filled with whiskey in them and handed them to the three of us while keeping the last for himself.

“You boys must be the fellas passing through on your bikes that my Cassie here was telling me about?” He said and Johnny’s face got pasty white, man.  Mine did too if you want the truth of it. I felt like I too had been fooled. But as I thought about it briefly it was really only our presumptions that had become misguided. So I burst into laughter right there in front of them and Johnny looked at me with his ghostlike dismay still lingering upon his face and squinted his eyes at me like I was betraying him somehow but I wasn’t at all. I was just laughing at our plain dumb foolishness.  Cassidy wasn’t wearing a wedding band, though that wasn’t so easy to tell with the many other rings and bracelets that adorned her fingers and wrist also, so we’d been half right in our estimations and the rest was reading the signals to a rather erroneous conclusion. I, for certain, had already assumed I was riding back to the motel solo for the night up to that point. And if the look on Johnny’s face said anything about it then so had he.

“Yessir!” I said picking up the slack left in the silent gasp of Johnny’s disbelief and Cassidy’s less than forthcoming and convenient lack of the finer details silence before her man became curious. “That's us. Thankfully your kind Cassie was able to help us or we might have have been stranded for longer than the day.” I answered the gentlemen as I gave Cassidy a quick glance in jest. I got why maybe she hadn’t made any declarations and had left us to our own imaginations which in the case of Johnny Denton and myself can be like opening up a pandoras box.

“Yeah that’s my baby, always trying to help however she can.”

“I bet!” Johnny finally harped back over the sound of the band as he defused the misunderstanding in his own way.

And the unwitting fools that Johnny, I and the Gentleman were,  all clanked the shot glasses together just the same and took hard gulps for varying reasons and carried on with awkward small talk before Cassidy, with a guiltily bashful look in her eyes, peered over my shoulder and said, “looks like you might be in trouble yet, Henry.” As she nodded her head at whoever she was looking at when she made the remark.  So I, trying to be coy, took a sip from my bottle of beer as I turned to run my gaze across the dance floor over to where Cassidy had indicated my trouble awaited. And once I had I saw standing there a beautiful dark skinned señorita with long dark hair who damn near took my breath away as I caught site of her. She was wearing a long canary yellow sundress that fell over her knees, and man she was lovely. It coulda been a young Penelope Cruz herself standing there and I couldn’t have told the difference. I turned back first to Johnny and it was I now with the raised brow that met his grin before continuing on to Cassidy as I tried my damndest to feign disinterest, but I’m certain I was blushing just from looking at the striking girl. My eyes were so wide open I had to pinch them closed just so I could blink again, man I swear.

“That’s the girl from before.” Cassidy said.  Finally and from out of nowhere Johnny changed his tune and burst out laughing at the dumbstruck and smitten expression upon my face.

“Midnight…eh maybe closing time…eh maybe I’m no curse at all! Told you it was a sign, Henry. I bet she has a friend with her too. A girl like that doesn’t go out alone.”  He said while looking over at Cassidy to drive the point home. “Let's play it cool for a minute, Henry; and if she does have a friend… then we gotta go ask for a dance.”

“Well boys I think you’ll get along just fine then… so if y’all will excuse us I’d like to take my lady for a spin.” The Gentleman said as he took Cassidy’s hand and led her onto the dance floor. I rather liked the cowboy at first introduction. He was tall and still lean despite the greying of his hair and he wore a big belt buckle on his jeans which led me to believe in my romanticism of all things that he was a rancher though I had no reason to assume so. Only for the night he wore a pair of ostrich leather boots rather than the shit kickers I further told myself he must have worn most of the time. He too held that stoic quality in his demeanor; and he seemed also to understand that Cassidy, being a younger woman than himself by at least a decade in turn, was likely to flirt from time to time but that that’s where such behavior ended. Seeing them I was happy to be alone. It seemed complicated to me. But it worked for them, I guess.  Because they were spinning circles on the dance floor now too and she taking his lead as they whirled.

“What the hell was that?” Johnny asked me after they’d gone.

“Well it would seem miss Cassidy, enjoys a little harmless attention, but the misunderstanding is on us, pal.”

“Eh… fuck it. I wasn’t going to try anything anyways.”

“Sure, man!” I chirped back at him as we laughed thinking over the whole thing.

The two of us stood leaned over the bar and did our best to run recon by scoping the scene out via the large glass mirror that ran along the backbar. Johnny ordered another rum and coke and made it a double.  Squinting his eyes as he paid for the drink he leaned over my way and whispered that he was sure the señorita was now chatting with another girl like he had hoped. I peered into the mirror also and noticed the two as he’d mentioned.  The girl who caught Johnny’s eye was of comparative beauty and wore a long black dress with a white flower print; and he nudged me in the side, like he needed too for some reason, as she began walking towards us by her reflection in the mirror. She sidled up to Johnny as the music slowed and Johnny turned to her.

“Not from around here?” The tall New Mexican beauty asked Johnny. And he shuffled his shoulders as he stood up tall and pushed himself off the rail as he faced her.

“No we aren’t. Me and my friend, Henry here, are on a motorcycle ride of sorts.” He answered pointing his thumb over his shoulder my way. The striking young woman leaned over the bar to peer around Johnny’s back to where I still stood leaning over the wooden rail.

“Hi, Henry,” she began with a slight wave of her hand. “I’m Rosa.” She continued to say as she stood back upright and I turned also from the bar to join the conversation, “that’s my sister over there, Maria; and we were wondering if you two might like to dance with us?” She finished saying in her enamoring Spanish fellaheen accent.

“Yes we would.” Johnny quickly replied. And he didn’t hesitate to let the moment pass as he took Rosa’s hand and walked her out to the center of the dance floor directly next to where Cassidy and the Gentleman were and I laughed as he pulled Rosa in close and made sure Cassidy took notice as they began to dance. I looked over to Maria, in her yellow dress, who stood their bashful and beautiful in her own right and I smiled kindly before I walked over to her to introduce myself.

“Hello, I’m Henry.” I said to her having crossed the room, and she looked up at me with her big brown eyes and with a smile that froze time, man.

“I’m Maria.” She replied.

“Forgive me for being shy when I first saw you, Maria. I wondered if you would you like to dance with me?” And again her supple red rose lips smiled at me as she reached for my outstretched hand and said,

“Si,… I would.” And I led her out onto the dance floor also and we made our way next to Johnny and Rosa where I slid my hand around the back of her waist and taking her hand with my other as she placed her arm upon my shoulder we began to slow dance also. Johnny kept looking over at me between whispers into Rosa’s ear with a big grin on his face and I gave him a raising of my eyebrows yet again as I smiled back.

“Where are you from, Henry?” Maria asked me with her sweet voice that sounded like cool strawberry cream tasted in my mixed up mind.

“I am from Iowa.” I told her.

“So far from home” she said back to me.

“It would seem so.” I said while getting lost in her eyes. “Is Santa Fe your home, Maria?”

“Si, yes it is. That is my papa and sister there.” She said as she pointed to the two singers on the stage. And I looked over at her father who was crooning the microphone but with his best eye was keeping watch as his daughters danced with Johnny and myself.

“I like that,… so very much.”

“I saw you at the Rail Yard, but you didn’t see me I don’t think.”

“I wish I had.”

“I am shy too, I guess” she said as she looked up and studied my face with a soft gaze.

“Then we got lucky. You look very beautiful tonight, Maria.” I told her sincerely.

“Thank you, Henry. Yes, we are lucky, I think.” She said back to me as she nestled closer to my chest and we continued to dance the song away. I was swimming in it, man. I looked over and Johnny too had that look in his eyes while gazing into Rosa’s. The song ended and we separated for a moment and doing so Maria looked over to her father who nodded back to his daughter before directing the band into another slow song as she smiled at him and then looked back at me as she gave me her hand once again. I knew the song was just for us. Just for his daughter really. I was just lucky.

By the end of the second song the band stepped the rhythm back up and the four of us strode over to the table in the corner where the girls had been sitting prior.

“Would anyone like a drink?” Johnny asked the three of us.

“We don’t drink, Johnny, but thank you for asking.” Rosa said. And I shook my head that I was fine also.

“A round of waters it is!”

“How about some cokes?” Rosa said. And Johnny walked over to get a round of Coca Colas. Cassidy glared over her fellas shoulder at him.  Johnny simply smiled back at her now. After paying for the drinks he carried them back to the table where he placed the bottles in front of us, each, and took a swig, himself.

“Man, thats the good stuff. Henry, quick, where’s the place from when we were kids that we could get bottled coca cola like this?” He asked me.  I thought about it for a second before I remembered.

“The Razors Edge!” I said referring to the barber shop in our small town where our fathers took us as kids to get our hair spiked, buzzed, bowled or faded.

“Bingo! My old man used to toss me a quarter after I got my hair cut to keep me quiet while he got his trim.”

“Man, I remember.”

“You guys have known one another that long?” Maria asked us.

“Yes we have.” Johnny answered her.

“I like that.” Rosa said. “You are like brothers.”

And Johnny and I nodded that it was so. We all conversed late into the night as the band shuffled through its set list and took requests. Many of the songs were from the Americana playbook, but it was the songs I didn’t recognize that I loved hearing that night the most. And I didn’t have to wonder why that was so. I could hear them as they needed to be heard and I hoped only that I could hear the sound as clearly as I always wanted others to hear the music I shared with them. Finally for their final song they set into one of those unknown ballads and the girls eyes lit up and they looked to each of us, and we both stood without needing to be asked and my oldest pal and I led Rosa and Maria back out onto the dance floor. Only this dance the girls drew their arms around the backs of our necks, and I felt like a teenager again for the moment so brief and fleeting just as those years from my youth seemed then to me also.  Just as all the years become. Johnny and I held the senorita’s closely as their father crooned in his native tongue and it was perfect and mysterious and romantic. The day behind us gone and the day before us unknown. And I was content as we were. Johnnys eyes told the same story. Man, let the rest of it fade and what is left are the moments. The moment is all there ever is to grasp. It is now…..now….now…now; and we decide. Sacred or profane? Profound or mundane? We choose. I have tried all my life to live in the moment. Failed to hold the mindset more times than not amidst all the hustle and bustle of the modern world and the lament of sadness and sin, but, man, when the Universe aligns and the truer vision resonates within I swear the world becomes something so achingly perfect and at One,… and the only thing anyone can do is breathe it in and let it go. You cannot hold on.  In its essence it is like the solemn desert rose of my minds eye that I could see once more beneath the soft moonlight illuminating its deep crimson petals somewhere so rarely found upon the holy earth. Maria was like a petal on that rose. Rosa equally. All the good ones are. And I knew it. Johnny knew it too.  As for He and I… reconnecting on the road after 40 years of brotherhood was about as true a blessing as could be imagined between pals. And from that moment onward and for the rest of our adventure together we both held that understanding and let the Road unfold as It willed.

When the song ended and the eclectic procession of patrons lingered back into the night after all the tabs were closed and the band tore down their instruments the girls father came over to Johnny and I and introduced himself as he shook our hands.

“Thank you for dancing with my girls tonight, young men.” He said to the two of us. “And to think they didn’t want to come tonight if I had not asked them do so.”

And Johnny and I looked at each other while shaking our heads and grinning. Couldn’t bechance. Not even possible. I looked at Maria and Johnny at Rosa who were standing a few feet away from behind their fathers back while he spoke to us.

“It was our pleasure, sir.” Johnny said to him.

“It truly was.” I agreed. And the old man smiled at us both.

“Say goodnight now, mija’s.” He said to his daughters from over his shoulder and the two girls walked over to us each.

“Thank you, Henry. I had so much fun with you tonight.” Maria said as her eyes twinkled up at mine.

“I’m the lucky one.” I replied as she rose onto her toes and hugged me. I hugged her too. And as she pulled away she kissed me sweetly on the cheek and I looked at her wanting so badly to kiss her but feeling it was already perfect between us and wanting to remain in her fathers good graces none the less,…I simply smiled.

After we watched them go Johnny and I walked back out into the rain. The bartender had allowed us to linger right up until he left hoping the storm might let up in the interim. But it was still a torrent. Standing under the eave Johnny looked at me and said.

“Never been so satisfied by a kiss on the cheek.”

“You too?” I asked.

“Dad gum.” He said as we stared at the monsoon storm pummeling our bikes with big drops of rain. “Guess we pay for it now.”

“If a little rain is all it costs us, I’d walk back to the motel in it just to try and even this day up a bit. Dad gum is right.”  I said back to him and he and I laughed standing there as the water all but cascaded off the eave and made it look like a trickling waterfall in front of us.

“You boys ride safe. It was so nice to have met you.” A voice shouted to us from the passenger seat inside the cab of a big Ford f350 pickup truck that was parked next to where we stood. It was Cassidy’s. “Let us know if we can do anything for you before you go.”  She finally said. I squinted to see more clearly as Cassidy and the Gentleman waved to us from inside the dry cab of the pickup with the passenger window cracked ever so slightly. Then he hit the lights and the rain shimmered so brightly I had to squint my eyes until they had pulled away.

“I wonder what we must’ve looked like to them standing here as we are?” I asked Johnny.

“What’s the old Zevon song, Desperados Under the Eaves?” He asked me while looking out over the now emptied parking lot.

“One of my favorites.” I answered him.

“I’d say we probably looked about like that.” He mused as we shrugged our shoulders and walked out into the rain to get onto our motorcycles.