When they burst through the glass doors into Sampson’s Bike Shop, the owner looked up and smiled.
“Is it time?” he asked.
Ashley pulled out her money and fanned it for a second time, her smile so wide her cheeks ached.
Mr. Sampson rolled the Huffy Pro Thunder off the little wooden platform it sat on.
“Every time you take her out,” he insisted, swiveling his eyes between Ashley and the bike as if speaking to them both, “you perform the ABC, a quick three-point inspection that ensures safe travels. Bonus points if you’ve got one of these little helpers too.” He pulled a worn playing card from his pocket.
Ashley saw a haggard man hiking up a mountain with a large walking stick.
“Saint Christopher,” he explained. “The patron Saint of travelers. But if Chris can’t make the journey, the ABCs should get you there.”
Mr. Sampson squatted down next to the bike.
“A is for Air.” He put his thumb and forefinger on the tire and squeezed. “Feel that?”
Ashley grabbed the tire.
“Nice and firm, as it should be,” he told her.
Ashley nodded, struggling to pay attention as she gazed in wonderment at her new bike.
“B,” he continued, standing up, “is brakes. Let’s walk her outside for this one.”
Mr. Sampson held open the door as Ashley wheeled the Huffy Pro Thunder onto the sidewalk.
Her legs were light and springy as she climbed onto the bike. She clutched the rubber grips on the handlebars, solid and strong beneath her fingers. The bike itself seemed to buzz with the anticipation of its first ride. She pushed off with one foot, standing as she pressed the pedal down, and the wheels started to turn.
“Now hit the brakes,” Mr. Sampson said.
Ashley depressed the brakes, and the bike jerked to a stop.
“Responsive,” Mr. Sampson beamed as she returned to where he and Sid stood. “That’s how you want them. And last, but certainly not least, C, the chain.”
Mr. Sampson bent down and tugged the chain. “Make sure she’s secure every time.”
“Got it, yes. Thanks, Mr. Sampson,” she babbled, so desperate to get on the bike and ride, she jiggled her foot up and down.
Mr. Sampson grinned and then held out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Miss Shepherd.”
Ashley shook his hand and then looked at Sid. She didn’t have to speak. He climbed on his bike and pulled next to her. They rode away from the sidewalk, down the center of the empty street.
“Don’t forget to name her,” Mr. Sampson called after them.
Ashley pumped the pedals, her legs pushing faster and faster as she sped down the street. She’d left Sid in her dust. The Huffy Pro Thunder sliced through the warm day as if it were made of steel, but a special kind, steel that was weightless and powerful.
She reached the end of the block within seconds and depressed the brake. She came to a stop, setting one foot down and marveling at the bike beneath her.
She leaned down and kissed the handlebars.
Sid caught up with her, his smile matching her own. “Wow, that bike flies!” he said.
“Starfire,” Ashley said. “Her name is Starfire.”
Starfire was one of Ashley’s favorite superheroes from the DC comics. She could fly at supersonic speeds and absorb solar radiation, and best of all, she used star bolts to attack her enemies.
“Yeah,” Sid nodded his approval. “Starfire,” he said. “And she’s purple like Starfire’s costume.”
For an hour, they sped through the neighborhoods in Roscommon. Ashley rode faster than she’d ever ridden in her life.
At times, the wheels took over, and Ashley lifted her legs out to the sides and watched the pedals spin.
When she left Sid at home, she rode back to her own house, pausing at the end of the driveway.
Despite promising her mother she’d stay out of the woods, Ashley wanted to try out her new bike on the trails.
She steered into the woods, checking the sky for birds, but spotted only a flock of dark clouds creeping across the sky. Rain would follow.
Grandma Patty called the rain tears from heaven. She told Ashley that's how they knew God was still paying attention.
Despite the coming rain, Ashley pushed on. She could ride for a half hour and then tuck the bike safely into the garage.
She flew over roots and jumps, the bike landing with a soft whoosh. “Starfire’s got this,” she shouted.
As she raced through the trails, birds took flight from the dense brush on either side. A squirrel fled across her path, chittering angrily as he raced up a tree.
A cardinal soared from a tree, and she watched his scarlet wings flap into the high branches.
As her bike rocketed forward, she sensed movement beside her. Twigs snapped and leaves crunched underfoot, sounds too loud to belong to a chipmunk or bird.
She glanced back and saw a flash of a person ducking behind a tree.
Her heart dropped into her stomach, and she almost slowed and stopped. As she started to compress the brake, another twig snapped behind her. Something darted from the bushes.
Ashley shrieked and jammed on the pedals, pumping her legs and trying to pick up speed. Her hair fanned out, and something touched it. She imagined the monster gaining on her, its mouth open to reveal jagged, blood-soaked fangs.
Panting, eyes blurring from sweat, she pedaled harder into the forest.
As she came around a curve in the trail, a familiar and unsettling laugh rang out.
Whipping her head sideways, she caught sight of Travis Barron as he threw a thick branch into the front wheel of her bike.
The wheel caught and her bike jerked to a stop, sending her flying over the handlebars.
Ashley landed on her hands and knees, skidding through prickly brush. A splinter gouged in the soft webbing of her fingers, and she cried out.
Before she could stand, Travis kicked her in the ribs.
“Stupid bitch,” he hissed. “Dumb spic bitch who thinks she’s better than me. You and your four eyed, fat little friend.”
He spat, and she felt the glob of wet slide down her cheek.
Furious, she started to stand, and he kicked her again in the back. She sprawled forward.
His friend, a freshman at the high school with a long ugly face and shaggy dark hair smiled as Travis picked up her bike and threw it into a tree.
“Keep her down,” Travis ordered him.
The boy stepped on Ashley’s back, pushing her into the gnarled ground, pressing so hard on her spine she feared it would snap.
Travis grabbed the bike and threw it a second time against the tree and then a third.
She struggled to draw in a breath, and when Travis started to jump up and down on Starfire, she clenched her eyes shut and fought against the tears welling up.
The death of her beautiful bike seemed to last forever. Ashley had slipped into a fog, a dark tight little ball in her brain.
When she finally unfurled, the weight had lifted from her back, and she no longer heard the sounds of crunching metal.
It had been replaced with a soft pattering of rain.
She opened her eyes.
Her bike lay crumpled on the bushy path.
38
Max pushed into the reception area at the Northern Michigan Asylum.
“Hi, my name is Max Wolfenstein. I’m looking for Dr. Lance.”
The woman behind the desk, tall and broad-shouldered with close set green eyes, looked up from the book she’d been reading. She set it aside.