Riders

This story has some strong language and a brief talk about death and blood.

RIDERS

Andy Pearson © 2023

James’ motorcycle whispered up the hill into the lot. The pounding muffler noise of a Harley Davidson didn’t work for him. He knew that for some, the rumbling noise of an engine drowned out other noises. For James, the volume amplified them, and so he rode a BMW. He turned the engine off in front of the walkway leading into the unexpected memorial. He slipped off his helmet and held it on the gas tank, listening to the leaves on the aspen trees shushing against each other in the breeze. He smiled as Drew’s bike pulled up next to him. Drew, his brother, shut down his bike and slid off his helmet. James knew that with his short blonde hair, tattoos, and 230 pounds compared to Drew’s slight build and dark hair, nobody would pick them as brothers. Two very different people, in dress and looks, and yet here they were, riding across the American southwest. The bike ride was Drew’s idea.

“Hey, I’m going to step over to the bathroom,” Drew said, hooking his thumb toward the blue porta-johns across the lot.

“I’m going to walk around. I’ll see you inside,” James said. He watched Drew walk away and paused to look at the motorcycles. The purchase of his bike had been Drew’s idea. He remembered Drew sitting down next to him on the back porch, where he was watching the trees. He’d been sitting and watching trees more and more often then. Drew looked over the area for a few minutes, then turned to him.

“How much money have you got?” Drew said.

“What?”

“How much money have you got?” 

“Huh?”

“Not in your pocket, idiot, but saved up from the last three deployments. How much?”

“I’ve got enough. Why?”

“Come on. Get in my truck we’re going to look at bikes.”

“Bikes?”

“Bikes. Motorcycles. Freedom on wheels. A way to push back at the demons you’re hanging out with,” Drew said, looking him directly in the eyes.

James looked at the trees, ”I ain’t got no demons. I’m fine. I’m just trying to relax, and you keep bugging me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now get up, and let’s go,” Drew chuckled while pushing himself up with a hand on James’ shoulder.

And get up, he did. They looked at bikes, and he settled on one similar to Drews. Quiet and smooth. He thought Drew had been right. The bike was freedom on wheels. The wind and sun on his skin. The sensation of being in the environment while on the road was liberating. He was now a rider after the first few mishaps, including an extremely public and embarrassing one involving the mailbox in his driveway. He needed to get out for a ride a few days a week just to clear the memories.

James smiled and swung his leg over the bike, setting his helmet on the seat. He had a helmet lock, but this didn’t feel like the kind of place where thieves would feel welcome. He looked at the entrance pathway.

The short white walls at the entrance rose upwards in an arc, mimicking the site's main feature. A building dominated by two large white walls rising in sweeping arcs toward each other overlooking the green valley. The views around the valley were focused at up-sweeping walls that never quite touched at their apex. The site sat on a rise looking out on the meadows around Angle Fire in northern New Mexico. It appeared in a surprise moment, stark white in the middle of the green grasses and pine trees they’d been driving through on the Enchanted Loop highway.   

Walking through the gateway, a bronze statue of a kneeling soldier with a bronze notebook open in front of him confronted James. The metal soldier in his Vietnam-era flak jacket and the old M16A1 slung over his metal back was a study in similarity and contrast.  The flack vest was lighter than the fifty pounds of battle rattle James wore in country, and his rifle had been the newer M16A2, but the tired expression was the same. He wondered what he was doing here. Vietnam wasn’t his war. He grinned, thinking that once you’ve been to war, all the wars are yours. The plaque next to the statue read:

Dear Mom and Dad

Now what? 

He can’t tell them what he is seeing.  

He can’t tell them what he is doing.  

His eyes see a foreign land.

His heart sees the other side of the world.

James nodded and turned to walk deeper into the memorial. The Huey helicopter on display was static in its mount, but the rhythmic sound of thrashing blades biting into thin, cold mountain air filled his ears. He heard machine gun fire and explosions. It seemed like there were always explosions and loud voices trying to be heard over the din. Voices hollering for Doc. Yelling for him. Wanting him, Doc, to help them in their moment of horrible fear and desperate need. Turning his head, he listened to the aspen leaves swishing. The reality of that quiet pushed the imagined sounds in his head away. 

He wasn’t a doctor, but as close as you can be without a white coat and fancy degree. He was, had been, a combat medic. He could work on the worst injuries in the most inhospitable places. Stopping bleeding in dust storms. Patching whistling chests with bullets smacking mud walls, creating little dust clouds. All the while acting calm. Giving reassurance, knowing it was a lie.

He shook his head and walked further. The closer he got to the large white walls, the more they fit into the environment. Their form matched the place and the meaning.

The innocuous glass door in the upsweeping wall was unlocked. James learned from a small sign that it would always be open after one veteran arrived and found himself locked out. The chapel was a different world from the natural landscaping and sweeping white arcs in the sunlight. The inside was dim and suffused with blueish light. Instead of rising, the chapel dropped beneath the rising arcs. It was steep, tapering as it descended. Narrowing concentric arcs of bench seats with white covers, each with a bible and a box of Kleenex sitting on the end of the row, led to the bottom. The marine blue light came from a window in the narrow opening between the rising structure.   

James took the stairs on the side slowly until he reached the small arc at the bottom of the bench seats. He faced the seats and wondered what he should do.  Should he sit? Maybe be introspective? The silence in the room fit. And so he was silent.

The door opened.  He looked up, saw a figure, and then heard the voice, pure Mississippi twang. The figure’s dark black, almost blue skin was luminous in the light. “Dude. I knew you would be early. If the chief said o-five, you was sure to be there at 0430. Drove me nuts. I always felt late around you.”

James smiled and laughed as Earl Robertson strolled down the stairs with his lanky legs. They were in the middle of a back-slapping hug when a new voice entered the quiet of the room. 

“What the hell have I just walked into, some kind of a special boys' club? Oofda, I thought this was where the men were meeting,” Zack Sorenson’s flat voweled North Dakotan accent flowed into the quiet space and rolled down the seats.  

Both looked up and saw the blond cowlick present even in Zack’s short military haircut. Zack hopped down the stairs with his ever-present energy and joined in the back-slapping.  

“Good to see you. Man, I appreciate seeing you guys.”

The door opened again, letting in white light for a moment, and a dark-clothed figure stood at the top. He stood unmoving while the three stared up at him.  

“You going to say anything or just eyeball us?” Zack said to Franco Langston at the top of the chapel.  

“So what the fuck are we doing here and not someplace fun, man?” Franco asked, finally smiling a smile that could have made him a movie star. “I hear there’s women down in Taos just looking for manly men like us.”

They laughed, and Franco ambled down the stairs to the group.

“Damn, it’s good to see you guys,” James said as the other three settled onto the benches leaning back on the next row.

From his slouched position, Franco said to James, “So seriously man-What the fuck are we doing here?”

“I don’t know. We just saw the place and pulled in,” James replied.

            “Seriously, you know what I mean. What the hell are we doing here?” Franco asked again

James looked at each of the men in turn before talking quietly. 

“How would I know? We just pulled in,” James said.

“Who’s we?” Franco asked.

“Me and my brother Drew. You’ve heard me talk about him. Great kid. Did his time with the Army. Iraq.  He got out before me,” James said.

“Oh yeah. I remember you talking about him. So what’s up?” Zack asked.

“How should I know? My brother wanted to go for a ride. We’re seeing the country,” James said, waving his hands lightly in a discounting way.

“Seeing the country sounds cool. What do you think so far?” Franco said, rising from the bench and walking over to look through the narrow window at the smooth green lawn below the memorial. “Lot of crosses out there, man.”

“It’s a memorial, dude. Like a veterans memorial,”  Earl said smoothly. “Didn’t you see the signs in the parking lot?”

“Yeah, I saw the signs. Just a lot of crosses, dude. Just saying,” Franco said, turning so he was surrounded by the light.

“So what’s up, man?” Earl said, looking at James.

“How should I know? I told you. It’s my brother’s idea to be on this ride.”

“So you didn’t want to go? He made you go?” Earl said, growing quieter.

“I don’t know. It was his idea. I just got tired of listening to him complain about me sitting around looking at trees. Now you guys are here. I don’t know.” James said, taking his turn at the window.

“Tell you what I think?” Zack said. ”I think you’re having a good time and don’t want to.”

“Don’t want to? Who doesn’t want to have a good time?” James said, turning around.

“You man. You want to sit and stare at trees. Dude, there’s a world past the trees out there. I mean, sometimes there are just more trees, but you get what I’m saying,” Zack said, smiling at a joke as flat as his accent.

“Not you guys, too. Damn it. I want to be left alone,” James growled.

“Alone to do what? Stare at trees? Think about the past? Come on, man,” Earl said.

The group fell quiet.

“Do you guys ever think about over there when you don’t want to think about over there?” James whispered into the blue light.

“What the hell, man, is this some kind of intervention or something? Fuck you talking about. Are you asking if we got issues or something? We’re fine, man,” Earl said

“Hell man, we don’t got no issues,” the other two said overtop each other. 

James stared at them when a quieter voice from Earl rose from the benches, “Yeah, man, sometimes, but that was then.”

The others nodded into the silence.  

“I’ve been talking to a guy, you know, a therapy guy. He says we’re working on some stuff, and I’m making progress, whatever that means, but damn it,” James said thickly. 

“Head case,“ Franco said to the others with a smirk.

“Is that... shit, is that what this is about?” Zack asked. “That’s the past, man. Let it go.”

The quiet settled again on the group.

“But I should have been there,” James said into the quiet. “I shouldn’t have gotten out of the truck. I should have looked around better. I should have been there for you guys. You’re my friends. The best friends I’ll ever have.” 

“Fuck that man. You got out of the truck to check on the other guys and make sure they were drinking their fucking water. You’re were the doc. It was your job. It was supposed to be a quiet area,” Earl said.

“But if I’d been there, I might have seen the guy with the RPG. I might have warned you.”

“I was in the turret, just like protocol dictated, and I didn’t see the guy either. What would you have seen from inside the truck? Nothing, that’s what,”  Franco said.

“But I wasn’t able to help you. I couldn’t stop the …. the… “ and James broke off.

“We know. We were there. We saw you try. We saw you covered in Earl’s blood. We know you tried, but you can’t save everyone. You were doc, you were our medic, but you’re not God,”  Zack said, getting up and putting a hand on James’ shoulder.

“Dude, ya’all got to let this go. We’re your past, brother. I mean, hell, we’re a great part of your past, but dude...,” Earl said with his elongated vowels.

“Hell yeah, we are. You’ll never be as cool again as we were then,” Franco said, smiling that smile.

“But doc, leave us there. Stop dragging us around,” Zack said quietly.

“Dragging you around? How am I dragging you around?” James asked

“Brother- Come on. We’re here, aren’t we? You keep dragging us around like a dog with an old shoe,” Earl said.

“I’m not dragging… I’m just …,” James said.

“You’re dragging. We don’t expect you to forget us, but you can’t live with us,” Franco said. “We need to go James. We need to go. Listen to your therapist guy. Listen to your brother. Stop staring at trees.”

“But..” James started.

“No buts, have a beer for us once a year, but spend the other 364 days living forward”, Franco said, standing up with the other three.

One by one, they put an arm around James and then with each other while mumbling their common love. They climbed the stairs to the door. James watched them walk away before he thudded to the lowest bench and sobbed.    

He heard the door open and stood up, turning quickly, hopefully.  He saw Drew at the top.

“They’re gone,” James quavered, looking up at Drew.

“They were here?” 

He nodded.

“Now they’re gone?” 

He nodded again.

“All of them?”

James looked around the small blue space. He turned and settled onto the lowest bench.

“I’m sorry, and I‘m glad,” Drew said. “I know a little about what you feel.”

Drew walked down the steps and sat on the first bench next to James.

“You knew about them?” James asked.

“I knew someone was traveling with you ever since you came home.”

“You knew?”

“Of course, I knew. Everyone who went carries someone home with them. I just didn’t know who it was, but I knew someone was there.”

James lowered his head, and Drew thought he might have closed up again, but James started talking. He started by saying his friend’s names.

Zack

Earl

Franco.  

When he finished talking, they both stared at the narrow ribbon of light coming from between the two arcs. 

“I’m sorry,” Drew whispered.

“Me too. Me too. I wish you could have met them,” James said into the light with a wet smile. 

The silence of the room returned, and this time, it stayed longer.

After bathing in the quiet, James said hesitantly, ”But you know what, there are two freedom machines up there waiting for us, and I hear the food in Taos is amazing.” Putting his hand on Drew’s shoulder, he pushed himself up. When Drew stood, they faced each other and embraced in the blue light.  Separating, they climbed the stairs, leaving the room in blue silence. 

Outside, in the clear sunlight, they slid onto the freedom machines and started the quiet engines. “You know, this place… This place…”

“I know,” Drew said.

 James smiled and slid his helmet on, “Let’s get something to eat, and maybe we can talk some more.” 

Drew laughed and slid his helmet on.