Chapter Thirty-Six
THIRTY-SIX
Ginny: What was that noise?
Shepherd: That was Charlie. He drove a motorcycle into the food truck
Ginny: Oh my God
Ginny: Don’t move
Ginny: I’ll be right there
Shepherd: No please
The back door into the alley opened and Ginny emerged, sunglasses already perched on her nose. “Hi, Charlie!” She waved, smiling brightly. “You brought it!”
“I brought more than this!” Charlie grinned, and more or less parked the bike. It leaned a little, handlebar resting on the driver’s door of the food truck.
Lex stared down at it before honking the horn again. “Now I am stuck!” she shouted. “Stuck, forever!”
Max patted the top of her head. “There’s another door, kid. Look. It’s open.”
“I refuse that door, Maximillian! Refuse!”
Charlie pulled the saddlebags off the side of the motorcycle and walked over to Shepherd and Ginny with a strange gait, as if he’d been riding a horse without a saddle. “Here ya go. Everything you need to save Deandra.”
“Uh-huh.” Shepherd handed the clipboard to Ginny before taking the saddlebags.
Inside was a red bandana, a pleather vest, and enough C-4 to blow a hole in Troy’s defenses, wooden horse be damned.
Shepherd closed the saddlebag. Reopened it.
The C-4 was still there, cozied up next to what had to have been a purchase at Spirit Halloween. He sighed. “I am going to die.”
“Hey, that’s quitter talk.” Charlie lit up a cigarette. “You’re gonna do great.”
Ginny took a peek inside the saddlebags. “I mean … if the grease fire isn’t a big enough distraction, the explosion will be. Right?”
“That’s the spirit!” Charlie blew a big puff of smoke directly in Shepherd’s face. Shepherd coughed. “You ever ride a bike before?”
“Yes,” Shepherd said, coughing again. “I have.” This was technically true. He didn’t mention that he was eleven at the time and his mom’s boyfriend was trying to impress him. The bike was loud and fast, and the sun had direct access to his face, and so, needless to say, it hadn’t worked.
Ginny raised one perfect eyebrow but didn’t say anything, bless her.
Charlie grinned around his American Spirit. “What did I tell ya? Everything’s under control. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”
After Charlie left—without scarfing down a free pizza, for once—Shepherd approached the motorcycle leaning against his food truck like a vet tech might approach a dog with forbidden food in its mouth. Confidently, with open palms, and the know-ledge that this is for the bike’s own good.
“Shepherd?” Ginny called from a folding chair she’d brought into the alley, setting up shop far enough away from the dumpster to be considered Down Wind. “You OK over there?”
“I’m fine! It just … it senses fear. You gotta dominate the bike before you sit on the bike.”
Noah loudly drained the last of a coolada, perched in a matching folding chair beside Ginny. “It doesn’t have a soul, Boss.”
“Yeah, well, that’s what you said about the espresso machine, Noah, buddy. But now it burns you whenever you even get close to it, huh?”
Noah sighed and sniffed at the same time. “I do like it when he calls me buddy.”
Shepherd’s daughter had her elbows on the driver’s window and her chin in her hands. She watched his steady approach with drooping eyelids. “Can you just ride it already? I’m so bored.”
“I’ve got a process, Lex,” he said, keeping his eyes on the bike, sweat pooling on his neck and upper lip. “Trust the process.”
Max and Chris waited by the engine, their arms crossed and their eyebrows furrowed. “Shepherd,” Chris said, “you’re scaring me.”
“Good,” Shepherd said. “The bike can feel that.”
He grabbed onto the handlebars and pulled the bike away from the truck. The bike was heavier than anticipated and did not want to be pulled away from the truck. Straining, Shepherd finally got the bike away. He huffed out a laugh. “Got it.”
“Right,” Max said. “Sure. Lex?”
“Already on it,” Lex chirped, suddenly awake. Shepherd glanced above him; she had her phone out and the flash on. “You’re doing great, Dad.”
Ignoring his only child, Shepherd swung one leg over the bike. It was higher than he expected, and his groin twinged, but he powered through and sat himself on the leather seat. “See?” He grinned at his chefs. “Easy peasy.”
“I have so much respect for you now,” Max said. “Congratulations, Boss. You sat on a motorcycle.”
“Do you know how to start it?” asked Chris.
Shepherd huffed. “Of course I know.” He had no idea. Something about turning the handle and putting his foot down? On something? A kick stand? Or was that for a regular bicycle? He dropped his voice and whispered, “Is Ginny watching?”
Lex, Max, and Chris all glanced towards the restaurant’s back door at the same time. He groaned and forced a smile. “Subtle, guys, thanks.”
“She’s gone, Boss,” Max said. “But the door is open, and Noah’s still there, so I think she just went back in for a drink.”
“Or her phone,” Lex added, her fingers moving across her phone screen. “Smile, Dad. This is your close-up. I’m calling it Moments Before Despair and Embarrassment.”
Shepherd continued ignoring her. “Guys,” he said, “I’m gonna need one of you to start this before she comes back. And if any one of you tells her I didn’t know how to turn this thing on, I’ll fire you both.”
Lex asked, “What if I do it?”
“Then you’re disowned. I’ll leave all my old socks to Noah when I die.”
“Aw, man, I had plans for those!” She made a wistful noise low in her throat. “Gross, disgusting plans. To take over the world. Who would stop me when in my hands is the ultimate weapon?”
Chris shook his head and waved Shepherd off the bike. “I’ll get it started for you. You want some tips on how to ride it?”
“What do I look like—a baby?” Shepherd got off the bike, but then the bike tried to follow, and it was only thanks to Chris’s speedy reaction that the bike didn’t fall on Shepherd’s leg. He grimaced. “Yes, I would like some tips, please. Thank you. Don’t tell Ginny.”
“Don’t tell Ginny what?” Ginny had returned from the restaurant, with her phone in one hand and a coolada in the other, and both of her ears working. Her eyes, too, probably.
Shepherd turned away with a grumble, throwing a glare at Chris as he got the motorcycle roaring to life for good measure.
Max clasped his shoulder. “Look, OK? The worst is over. You couldn’t start the bike—she saw that. It’s over. Right?” He gave Shepherd’s shoulder a squeeze. “It can only go up from here.”