Page 31 of Raven
He and Joel were working on an old Indian that was dropped off for body work after a small fender-bender, and I was putting the last of the parts on Nitro’s bike. The leather-smith was coming this afternoon to pick up the saddle bags so they could be cleaned and repaired if needed, and the bike would be washed and polished while he was working on them.
The part I had ordered for a new headlight mount didn’t want to fit correctly, and with each miss of the screw onto the frame, I felt my frustration growing higher.
Deep down, I knew it wasn’t the bike that had me frustrated, but it was the icing on the cake. For the last week, I’ve wanted to ask Caleb what Warhol had discovered about Rooster, but didn’t want to bring up the negative, when everything else was positive.
For the first time in my life, I was truly happy. Whatever the future held, I knew it was going to be good, and the unknown where Rooster and his boys were concerned was the only thing hanging heavy over my head.
Sighing after another miss of the screw, I stood from my rolling seat and placed the screwdriver onto my cart. I rolled my neck and tried to exhale the scream that threatened to erupt from my lips, and when I opened my eyes, I saw Joel glance at me. His brow was furrowed and I shook my head and turned to step away from the bike for a minute.
The radio was blaring music throughout the shop as I approached my worktable and ran my hands over the leather of Nitro’s saddle bags. It was old leather, showing the countless miles he’d spent on the open road, with small scratches and cracks running along the front.
Looking at the clock hanging on the wall, I saw I had about an hour before Bruce, the leather-smith, arrived, so I decided to clean out the inside of the bags before he got here. Reaching inside, I felt various things rolling under my fingertips, and as I pulled the items out, I started to get a better picture of Nitro.
He had a few gum wrappers, an empty pack of cigarettes, a small toolbox, and what felt like a pair of jeans stuffed inside. I pulled the jeans out and saw it was a full change of clothes, so I placed them onto a clean part of my worktable, thinking Roughstock would want them back.
I didn’t realize anyone had walked up until I felt a hand on my shoulder. Spinning, I found Caleb standing behind me with a smile on his face.
“How’s it going?” he asked, and I shook my head and wiped my hands off on the rag stuffed into the pocket of my coveralls.
“The damn mount won’t attach properly, and I’m thinking I may need to order another one,” I responded, and he glanced at the bike.
“I can help if you want me to.” His shrug and smile were cute, but I hated asking for help. Almost like he knew what I was thinking, he stepped closer and pulled me against his body as he added, “And I’m not trying to step on your toes, but Joel said you seemed frustrated. I just want to help.”
“Maybe you can hold it while I get the screw to bite into the frame, then I should be good to finish,” I answered, and he pecked me on the nose before releasing me.
We walked back to the bike and for the next thirty minutes, he and I managed to maneuver the mount into the right position and get it screwed into place. I smiled when it was done and stood from my seat.
“Thank you,” I said.
“Anytime, darlin’,” Caleb answered and looked at the saddle bags. “What time is Bruce coming?”
Looking at the clock, I replied, “Twenty minutes or so.”
“Then I’ll let you get things ready for him.” Caleb went to walk away but glanced over his shoulder as he said, “Roughstock is going to be grateful for all the hard work you’ve put into Nitro’s bike.”
I smiled and replied, “I’m honored he trusted me to take care of something so personal.”
Caleb winked at me before turning and walking across the shop to the office. I went back to the saddle bags, wanting to get everything out before Bruce walked in. Reaching farther into the leather bags, I felt something small near the bottom.
“I frickin’ hate being short,” I mumbled to myself as I used the toe of my boot to pull a small rolling stepstool closer.
At five-five, I wasn’t exactly short but I definitely wasn’t tall, so I kept a stepstool around for necessity. Stepping up, I looked inside and saw a spiral coil pushed against the side of the bag. I pulled it out, placing it with the clothes and other items I’dfound. After inspecting it for anything else, I pulled the tops down and slipped the straps into the buckles.
The items were dusty, and I brushed my hands together as I stepped down from the stool. Looking at the small pile of items, I was about to put them into a bag to take to the Sin Den after work when something caught my eye.
I should have left it alone, but it was a pristine white envelope in an otherwise dusty pile of belongings, making it stand out from everything else. I cut my eyes to the side and reached out, pulling the envelope from between the items of clothing.
Warhol’s name was scrawled on the front, and I flipped it over to see it was sealed. Shrugging, I walked across the shop with the letter in my hand and entered the office. Caleb was talking to a customer and turned his head to glance at me before he returned to the conversation. I sat down at the desk, brought the computer to life, and logged into the local box store’s website so I could start my grocery pick-up order.
Clicking through a few items, I was about to place the order when I heard the bell on the front door ring. Lifting my gaze, I saw the customer was gone and Caleb was sauntering toward me with a smirk on his face.
“Miss me, darlin’?” he joked as he approached me.
“Every second of every day,” I admitted, and he smiled bigger before leaning over and giving me a kiss on the lips. He stood up and was about to walk back into the shop when I stopped him. “Caleb, I don’t know what to do with this, but I thought you might have an idea.”
Handing him the envelope, he looked at it and then at me with confusion on his face. “What’s this?”
Spinning the chair to face him, I crossed my arms over my chest and explained, “I found it inside Nitro’s saddle bag, tucked between come clothes. I . . . I didn’t know what I should do with it.”
