Dude, Where's my Bike?

“Hello this is Jake?”

“Hi Jake, I was calling about your RC-51? The one on the ad?” I sound a little hesitant. There is a pause on the other end.

“Oh yeah, are you interested in it?”

“Well that’s just the thing, honestly I’m not interested in buying it – mostly because I can’t afford it…”

We both start to laugh abruptly, “…well anyways was more interested in just test driving – that’s all. Would that be cool if I took it around the block a few times?”

“Oh yeah, sure, sure. I should ask you, have you ridden these types of bikes before? They’re pretty advanced.” His tone changes while waiting to judge my response.

“Oh yeah, no problem, what are they six speed?” I ask with faux-confidence.

“Yep, one down, five up.”

We figured out a time later that afternoon. After work, I swung over to his address and there she was, the Honda RC-51. This one had a black coating with the red wing sprawled diagonally across the side body. They made this bike specifically for contesting in the Superbike World Championship and tops out at 180 mph!! The dual headlights just adds to my eagerness to grip the handles and pull in the clutch.

“Can I help you?” Jake calls out while coming out to the street. His question makes me jump as if I were awakened from a trance.

“Yes, I was the one who called earlier about test driving the bike?”

“Oh yeah, no problem.” He reaches over the tank and inserts the key. Following the turn of the key, the RPM and Speedometer needles sweep over the gauges as the green neutral light flashes on. And just like that, he clicks on the switch and presses the ignition. A high rev shoots up then falls to low hum. Jake motions for me to mount up. All I had were my sunglasses.

“So, you’ve ridden one of these before, right?” Jake yells over the motor. “Yes, of course I have.”

“Good,”

The bike snaps into first and as I creep forward, he yells out, “Have fun,”

From there I went up to the first stop light and decided to take it to the highway at the foothills of the nearby mountain range. The bike handled smooth and got straight to the point with exact reactions to the throttle. Once on the highway, I was free and could suddenly explain the beauties of life simply by doing 130 down the straightway. The sun was setting to the west and not another car in sight. It was giving out a distinct roar as though I were releasing it from captivity. Truly this was paradise.

After driving back to Jake’s house, I noticed none of the lights were on. I turn off the motor and pocket the key while heading into their house. I tap on the screen door with a quick “hello?”.

“Who is it!” An angry lady shouts.

“I was the one who test drove the bike.” I feebly answer.

“We thought you stole the bike!”

“I’m sorry, what do you mean? I was only gone for maybe 20 minutes tops.” I answer back confidently.

“More like two hours, guy!” She replies and then continues, “I’m calling Jake right now. He’s at the police station about to fill out a report. Leave the key and get out of here.”

I kneel over and place the keys on the nearest table in deep reverence while quickly getting out of dodge. Who would’ve thought that I was gone that long?