The Pastor's Wife Wears Biker Boots (16 page)

“Are you serious?”

Opal nodded.

“What
was
that thing?”

“You know, I’ve always believed in them.” Opal turned to me. “I just never told anybody. I think it’s some sort of North American primate or something. I mean, they’re always discovering new species in other countries—who knows what hides out in these mountains.”

I held out my hands. “I can’t stop shaking. How are your eyelashes?”

Opal reached up to feel them. “They’ve calmed from shaking to quivering, I think. Maybe we should call somebody now.”

“That’s a good idea. Hopefully they’ll wait for us at the lodge.” I looked down at her shredded back tire. “You do have towing service, I hope.”

“Yes.” She pulled out her cell and dialed a number. “I have it on my insurance.”

It dawned me on that Opal wasn’t harmed. “Opal, you handled the blow-out beautifully. You could have totally lost it, but you must have kept your wheel straight just as the motorman taught us on the DVD.”

Opal’s lips trembled.
“There’s no signal.” The little color left in her cheeks disappeared. “Oh no, Kirstie, what if that thing comes back?”

I parked my hands on her shoulders. “It won’t. How many times have you ever heard of a Bigfoot hurting someone? You can’t even catch them on camera, and you’ve got people everywhere looking for them.”

“True
.” She glanced at the woods.

“Besides. We both tend to have overactive imaginations. Maybe it was just a big dog or some teenager playing tricks on tourists.” I wasn’t sure I believed myself.

I hoped Opal did.

I tried my phone and couldn’t get a signal, either. We decided to wait for passing traffic, but none came except for a few more bikers who were going the opposite way. They promised to let someone know we were stranded.

About thirty minutes later, Lily, Reba and Timmy came
back.

Opal and I high-fived each other.

But it still didn’t help us with the dilemma of getting Opal’s bike to the next town.

Lily parked her Honda and came running. “Thank you, Lord.” She threw her hands to heaven. “I wanted to throw up thinking you’d driven off the side of the mountain
.” She hugged us both with the fierceness of a mother finding her lost child.

Opal raised her eyebrows.

I spoke for her, “Lily, you’d have been proud of Opal. She kept her wheel straight, and she stopped, and never even wobbled when her tire blew
.”

“Opal. You OK?” Reba walked up, concern on her face.

Timmy chimed in. “Opal OK?”

Opal swayed.

Reba grabbed her and led her to a large rock to sit on.

“I think I need some water,” Opal said.

I ran to my saddlebag and retrieved a bottle. “Here, I should have thought of it sooner.”

Opal took a deep swig and choked. “I never want to get back on that bike again. I don’t know how I’m going to make it home.”
Tears rested on her quivering eyelashes.

Reba patted her on the back. “You’ll get back on, Opal. You’re just tired. Don’t think about riding home right now.”
Reba looked up at me.

Opal bent over and dropped her head into her hands.

Lily kneeled down in front of her. “I’m so glad you’re OK. I really thought something bad happened. Thank
God
. Thank
God
.”

“Lily, would you stop it.” Reba glared. “You’re not making things any better.”

Lily stood and jabbed her fists onto her hips. “Well, heavens to Betsy, she could have been
killed
.”

“Lily!” I glued a firm arm around her. “You need to calm down, too. Do you need some water?”

Lily looked at me, and I couldn’t tell if she wanted to laugh or cry.

Apparently, Opal didn’t know if she wanted to, either, and dissolved into tears in the midst of insane laughter.

We sat at the edge of the road trying to figure out our options. We prayed for wisdom. The day grew darker by the minute. We finally decided to send Reba into town for help even though the bikers had promised to send some. As she mounted her bike, an enormous red tow truck approached, and we laughed and hugged one another.

We waved our arms and yelled for the truck to stop.

A burly, silver-haired man with a sunburned, tattooed arm out the window slammed on the brakes.

I would have believed he was a rockin’ Santa Claus. His appearing was as exciting as Christmas.
But I didn’t believe in Santa. Then again, seeing Bigfoot in the flesh could mean I was having a strange dream, or that such things I didn’t believe in could very well be true.

The Santa creature looked at the lot of us and adjusted the hat on his head.

Speechless, we stared at his marvelous crimson sleigh bringing us the gift of escape.

I wanted to hug him.

“Hey there, ladies.” He grinned and chuckled with rosy cheeks exactly like a real Kris Kringle. “You gals need a tow?”

22

The St. Nick guy driving the enormous metal sleigh lived up to the moniker I’d given him. Big belly, chubby cheeks, beefy arms. He was huge. Bigfoot huge. “Some riders in town told me there’s a biker up here in trouble. That y’all?”

“Sure is,” Reba hollered. “Our friend Opal here blew a tire.”

He hoisted his massive frame out of the cab, and it looked like he might burst out of the black leather vest with silver chains on the front. He landed on the ground with a grunt and gnawed on a stubby cigar sticking out of the corner of his mouth. “Which one of you is Opal?”
he spoke with a gruff and authoritarian voice, but stood smiling with hands on his hips.

Opal wilted and raised her hand
.

“I hear you got yourself a heap o’ trouble.” He sauntered John Wayne style to the rock where she sat and offered his hand. “My name’s Atticus. Atticus Pike.”

Our damsel in distress extended her hand and lost it in his bear paw. She remained speechless.

“This the bike here?” He pointed to her little Honda.

She nodded. The fearless tigress who’d recently blossomed had vanished and the old, timid, wallflower Opal reappeared.

“I’ll get her up on the truck, and we’ll roll on in to Robbinsville and have you tucked in by midnight. How’s that sound?” He
yanked up his jeans.

Opal simply nodded.

“She’s a little shook up.” Reba gave the wallflower a gentle side squeeze. “It’s her first road trip and…”

“She should be shook up.” Atticus took the cigar out of his mouth and motioned with it. “It’s dangerous riding out here in these mountains. But, you know, I do it, so I understand the beauty of it. Still, it’s a risk.”

He shoved the cigar in his mouth, walked over to his truck and pushed on big red levers to let down a platform. We all watched in wonder as this hulking man moved about securing Opal’s bike with the gracefulness of a ballet dancer. At times he lifted little Firefly with one hand.

“OK, Miz Opal.” He opened the cab door on the passenger side and patted the seat. “Jump on up in the cab, and we’ll drop your bike off to be repaired and then get you to where you’re going.”

“Switchback Inn,” Reba called out.

Atticus saluted. “See you there.”

Opal’s legs were too short to reach the rungs on the ladder leading up to the cab. Atticus lifted her into the air like a little doll, planted her on the seat, and helped her with the seatbelt.

Reba, Lily, and I looked at one another and snickered at how diminutive and uncomfortable Opal looked.

He shut the door, and all we could see from the ground was the top of her silver head.

“I hope he doesn’t eat her for supper.” Lily giggled
.

****

We arrived at the Switchback Inn, happy to be in a place to rest our weary bones. A small garage was attached to each room for parking our motorcycles. Reba’s large bike filled the entire garage next to hers and Opal’s room. Lily parked her Magnum in with my Sportster in the little garage next to ours. Having the bikes inside out of the elements was an unexpected surprise. Most motels didn’t accommodate bikers this way.

“I love these little garages.” I pulled my motorcycle bag off the back, glad I hadn’t over packed. The burden felt heavy enough with Timmy’s stuff crammed inside.

“I know. I’ve never seen anything like this.” Lily thought smart. Her bag sat on wheels. Next time, that’s exactly what I’d buy. She pulled it to the door of our room while I struggled to waddle down the sidewalk with mine. Timmy was preoccupied with the large garage doors.

The rooms weren’t fancy but definitely comfortable. At this point in the journey, I didn’t care about the décor. I only needed a place to rest my eyes and backside.

Timmy stood in the door flapping, not sure whether to go in. I left him there to get acclimated and plopped face down on the bed.

“I need an ice pack.” I moaned.

“What for?” Reba walked in with her small pack of necessities. She prided herself on traveling light.

I groaned again. “For my bum.”

Reba smacked me on the rear.

I didn’t move. “Ouch.”

“That’s all the reaction I get, huh? You must be plum tuckered out.”

I mumbled into the mattress. “What gave you the first clue?”

I could hear Lily putting her things in a corner. “Oh, probably the comatose state you’re in.”

I sat up. “Speaking of comatose, I’m grateful Opal didn’t get hurt out there today. God was definitely with us.”

Reba nodded. “I gotta give you that one, Kirstie. I didn’t want to say anything in front of Opal, but I was scared spitless. All I could think of was going home to Eel Falls with one less Lady Eel. I nearly pulled over and puked.”

Lily huffed. “And you gave
me
a hard time about it?”

Reba pulled out a cigarette. “I didn’t want you upsetting Opal.” She rummaged in her bag for a lighter. “I don’t know about you gals, but I’m hittin’ the shower. And then I’m gonna race ya to the ice cream.” Reba walked the few steps to the door and waved goodbye.

We all managed to take quick showers, and without bothering to dry our hair or put on makeup, we headed to
The Scoop
, a few yards away from the motel.

I felt my face. “You know, not wearing makeup is sort of freeing.”

Lily looked at me. “Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Milo always says, ‘if a barn needs painting, ya better paint it.’”

“Meaning?” I sucked in my breath. “Are you saying I’m a barn that needs painting?”

Lily laughed. “I’m teasing you girl, lighten up.”

Timmy and Reba beat us to the ice cream parlor, and Reba ordered for Timmy before we got to the window.

“Ice cream! Cream! Cream! Ice Cream!” Timmy clapped and flapped his hands at the window of
The Scoop
where the server handed him a tall waffle cone of chocolate ice cream.

Reba beamed.

I glared
.

“You feed him that ice cream, and you get to stay up with him tonight.” I crossed my arms. I meant business.

“Every kid deserves ice cream.” Reba waved me off.

“Yes, but some kids react badly to it.” I was too tired for this. “I don’t mind him having maybe a half a cup—but two scoops will keep him up. I’m warning you.”

“Nah, he won’t be up much longer.” Reba paid the cashier. “He’s been in the wind all day. He’ll sleep like a baby. Won’t ya, Timmy?”

“Cream!” Flap, flap, flap.

I know I should have ordered the sugar free lemonade for myself, but I needed chocolate and carbs for my nerves. I ate halfway through my brownie sundae when I realized something: I hadn’t thought about Bernice or church stuff in days
.

“I love riding,” I sputtered with my mouth full of chocolate. “I’m so in the moment. I don’t think about anything except what’s happening right now.”

Reba smiled. “You’ve got it.” She took a big bite of her strawberry cheesecake ice cream. “You’
ve been bitten.”

“I love the smells.” Lily licked her spoon like a tootsie pop, took a deep breath and let it out with a long sigh. “You always know where you are simply by the smell.”

“I wonder how Opal’s doing with Santa Claus.” I winked.

“Claus. Claus. Big truck.” Timmy wore chocolate ice cream all around his mouth and on his nose.

Reba laughed. “If Opal’s not back in an hour, we’ll go looking for her.”

“How far did they have to go?” Lily plopped her spoon into the empty soft serve cup.

“Just up the road a piece. There’s a Honda dealership there, thankfully. They’ll order her a new tire, and we’ll be on the road again by tomorrow.”

Timmy managed to get two scoops of chocolate ice cream more inside than outside of him. As I wiped him down, Atticus and Opal drove up in the tow truck and parked. He jogged over to the passenger side and helped Opal out of the cab. Her face flushed a mixture of cranberry and grape.

“Our hero!” Reba yelled. “What’ll it be tonight? A banana split? My treat.”

“Sounds good to me!” he hollered and waved. As he walked beside Opal, he placed one of his big bear paws on her back like a nurturing father. The gesture was not lost on any of the Lady Eels, and we raised our eyebrows at one another.

Opal and Atticus got their ice cream, and we teased Atticus about his gargantuan Santa Sleigh.

“It is what it is.” He chuckled and filled his spoon with a big helping of banana split. He took a bite, chewed, and went for another scoop. “So. I hear you met Bigfoot out there on the road…”

23

I looked at Opal with eyes as wide as my hips.

Lily choked.

Reba stopped lighting her cig and took the cancer stick out of her mouth. “Your who met what?” She
threw her lighter on the table.

“Bigfoot,” Atticus said. “Lots of people say they’re there, but Opal here had a face to face.”

Reba looked at her and then at me.

I nodded. “I saw him
, er, it.”

“
What?
” Reba
leaned in toward me and turned her head from me to Opal and back toward me.

I shrugged to act like seeing a Bigfoot was just an everyday occurrence in the life of Kirstie Donovan, pastor’s wife of Eel Falls First Independent Community Christian Church. “I saw something. Opal’s telling the truth. Whatever it was took off just as I rounded the switchback.”