GHOST RIDE
“Margaret Rice! Please rise!” John, the Sergeant-at-Arms, bellows.
I rise from my chair feeling pale and nervous. I don’t know why I’m nervous. I have known these guys for years. Hell, some of them helped raise me when Daddy passed away; but, this is something I have been working for, waiting on, for a long, long, time, so I guess nervous is okay.
“Step forward!” John commands, his expression stern.
I step away from the table and walk to the front before stopping in front of Philip, President of the 417 Motorcycle Club.
“Margaret Rice. I am about to administer your oath of induction. Are you prepared to accept this oath?” Phillip asks, as John retreats to the doors at the back of the room.
I swallow hard. “I am.”
“Please raise your right hand and repeat after me.” When my hand goes up, Philip begins, “I, Margaret Kimberly Rice…”
“I, Margaret Kimberly Rice…” I repeat. Before Philip can continue the doors bang open at the back and the room erupts into shouts. Already on edge, I jump at the sound before whirling to see a fucking ghost stride into the room. The room begins to spin, as I suddenly get light headed. I take two steps the side and sit down in an empty chair before I fall. The room is in bedlam as Shane Perry struts into the room like he owns the joint.
***
It takes a moment for me to get my wits about me as the room swirls. Shane had disappeared without a trace fifteen years ago. Everyone, including me, thought he was dead. But, here he stands, big as life, wearing his 417 club jacket just like the last time I saw him.
I stand up, straightening my wedding dress. Wedding dress? I blink hard and look again to see myself in my jeans and shirt once again. What the hell?
Shane and I had just become lovers when he disappeared. We were young, barely twenty years old when he… left? He was in pre-law at Converse and I was helping out in Daddy’s shop and attending a trade school. There was no note and all of his possessions were left behind with the exception of his hog. I cried for days and practically the entire town of Moore was in shock. I have had a few lovers since Shane, but nobody could ever replace him. I walk to the milling throng, gently pushing my way through the crowd.
“Hey, Maggie,” Shane says, looking down at me with that smile that can melt a woman’s heart. I draw back and punch him in the mouth as hard as I can.
“Shit!” I shout, shaking my hand as pain radiates out from my abused knuckles. Punching someone looks easy on television, but it hurts!
Shane takes a half-step back in reaction to my punch, then slowly tongues the bloody spot. “Good to see you, too,” he deadpans.
“You son-of-a-bitch! You walk away for fifteen years, then come back like nothing has happened? Why are you back?” I shout in the now silent room.
“I’m back to take over my club,” Shane says, as if the answer is obvious.
“Your club? This was never your club! This was Daddy’s club!”
“It’s my club now. Isn’t that right?” Shane says, looking directly at Philip.
Philip lowers his head in deference to Shane. “Of course. I knew my position was only temporary.”
Shane smile as me. “See? Everyone out! I have to talk to Maggie.”
The rest of the club members disappear. “What do you want?” I sneer, seething inside.
“I have some bad news.”
I feel my heart sink. “What?”
“You’re not joining the 417s.”
“What?” I shout. “Who the hell do you think you are? Do you really think you can come barging in here after all this time and tell me where I can and cannot join?”
“I’m the President of the 417s, that’s who. And I’m telling you, you’re not joining. It’s the reason I’m here.”
“You mean to tell me you came back, after fifteen years, just to prevent me from joining the 417s?” I ask,
Learning to Kill: Stories