“So, you’re the infamous Axle?’ stated little Micky. “Rivers is it?” continued Micky, shaking Axle’s hand with surprising strength.
“Ya, it seems so,” answered Axle, not sure what the little man was implying.
“Me alegro de verle de nuevo Sr. Rivers,” said Rosa, stepping forward, and smiling sincerely, while shaking his hand wildly. ‘No hug dance for me,’ he thought, still feeling the sting from Micky’s hand in hers. Axle tried to quickly waken his rusty Spanish.
“Hola Rosa, me alegro de verte también,” replied Axle bowing, while holding her hand. ‘What a comical way to shake someone’s hand,’ thought Axle. Wondering if she was trying to shake it from its sockets? Axle was always worried about how his spanish came across to others. Wondering if he’d formulated his words right…and how stupid he might have sounded.
“Ahaa, Mr. Rivers. Your spanish is still good. Is it not Angelita?” Finally letting go of his hand.
“Sí, es Rosa, very good,” replied Angela.
“I haven’t had much of a chance to speak it lately,” offered Axle apologetically.
Mickey could see all this fuss over Axle’s rusty spanish was making Axle uneasy, and moved delicately between Axle and the women. “Axle, I noticed you looking at the bikes. Not one scratch I promise. I hope you are pleased?” Said Micky, leading Axle toward the Bikes. Axle was still feeling Mickey's grip on his fingers along with Rosa’s; jerking his arm. He wanted to rub his fingers but held back. He still, was not sure of his feelings, about his bike being shipped without his knowledge or consent.
He decided for the moment to look pleased, not wishing to appear a social misfit to Angela’s extended happy family. “Yes,” answered Axle smiling, “I’m very surprised!”
“Ah good, cuz I’d be pissed!” replied Micky laughing.
Axle was caught between a rock and a hard place, and he knew that Micky knew it too. Axle began to see why he was so popular with Angela. And began to ease up on the bike thing.
“They’ll be crated properly, you can be sure of that. After you guys have some fun on them of course,” reassured Micky.
“Crated?”
“Ya…they’re on their way to Pepe’s, for tune-ups. They were re-routed here, when the plans changed. Big changes, but you already know about that. That’s how all Red’s bikes travel long distances these days. But you know all that right?
“Ya sure!” replied Axle, growing pissed again. And wondering if Micky could see through his lie. He was starting to wonder if the bike was actually his now, even though he and Angela paid for it. Axle didn't know that Pepe had given the bike to her for fee. He had refused to except their money, and waved the charge because of his high respect for Red, and her. But in Pepe's mind, the bike was Axles. Axle didn’t know Angela was standing behind them listening, and couldn’t hide his surprise.
“Honey…didn’t know you were standing there?” said Axle blundering.
Angela, interlocked arms with him, and while leading him away, waved good bye to Micky. “Gonna freshen up sweetie,” she called back.
“I’ll fill you in, on everything I promise.” She whispered, while pointing to a solid red wooden gate in a high bleached wall. “But only when we know we’re totally alone. Red has given me clearance to bring you up to speed. He really feels badly about all the deception, and having to use us, you.”
“Using us?”
“Yes darling,” replied Angela, growing tired of having to cover for her father.
“I’ll let him beg for your forgiveness later. And he bloody well better do a good job of it! Don’t let him off the hook to easily either. Seriously!” She demanded.
“I already have, believe me. He should be arriving this evening. Lots of crazy things going on…serious shit!” Axle felt conflicted, like a child that’s only let in on certain things, usually unimportant things.
“Did he know where you were, when he was in Seattle?” asked Axle, acting on some suspicions.
After a long pause, Angela answered “yes!”
“FUCK!” Snapped Axle. Pulling away from her. “I fucking knew it!”
“Angela raised her finger to her lips, as a rage, and embarrassment boiled within her. She tried to recover his hand, saying. “Sorry, but walls have ears around here,” as they stepped through the gate. Axle could see gardeners working in an incredibly lavished landscape. A magnificent scene unfolded before him. Green manicured lawns flowed like a golf course all the way down to the Pacific. Over flowing with large red and pink Rhododendrons, the size of small trees that were spotted throughout the grounds. But what Axle noticed most was the presence of expensively suited gentlemen sprinkled discretely everywhere.
“We go this way; the house is up back in there. This our private place, for our duration here.” Said Angela, filled with anticipation and dragging him laughing toward an Ann of Green Gables style cottage, over looking the crashing surf. “Red had a cool staircase installed down to the beach, just over there, beside that what-cha-ma-call it thing there,” added Angela. “We can sun bathe there if you’d like.” “Gazebo,” interrupted Axle.
”Ya that,” replied Angela.
Axle stopped to get his bearings, looking back toward the main house. He could see parts of it, here and there poking out. “Wow, it looks like a Frank Lloyd Wright style Usonian house, on steroids." It was one storied, flat roofed, and spread like mushrooms, all over the landscape.
“Ya, Red said the same thing,” weird, she thought.
As they approached the path to the cottage, Angela announced. “We can speak freely now, I had Micky sweep it again. Even though its done regularly. Ask me anything darling, you have no idea how badly I’ve waiting for this.”
“What the fuck is going on?” Snapped Axle. “I’m sick to death of all this cloak and dagger bullshit!”
“There’s been a kind of split, a coup really. And Draino is involved. Basically, Red had to get him away, and he used us to do it. The jerk was the weak link and Red used his hatred for you, to lure him away, so they could search his dump, and bug his flat. They’ve got tons of crap on him, going back a few years. He’s up shit creek, they’re all being rounded up now. Even in the Netherlands, can you imagine!” Yelled Angela.
“O, so my bike…?”
“Ya, he had to allow Draino to think he was stealing it.”
“That’s why the fucker was there. That’s brilliant, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. Why couldn’t they just tell me?”
“Because, they didn’t want to involve you directly.”
“Ya right…he probably thought I’d blow it.”
“No…I don’t think so. I think Draino would have sensed something. It was too crucial to chance. He’s stupid but has learned to be paranoid of everything and anybody in this business.”
“Just wait till you hear how he got it back from Draino.”
‘O shit, thought Axle, what’s gonna happen to him?’
As they entered the cottage Axle noticed two Picassos right off, one on each side of a stone fireplace. He didn’t have to ask if they were real. Most of the original paintings were of desert landscapes. Muted greens and oranges, with purple shadows. Axle wasn’t surprised seeing them, knowing Reds love for the desert. Some signatures he recognized, others he didn’t.
“Wow!” said Axle, stepping over toward a magnificent display of orchids.
“Yah, crazy huh,” laughed Angela. “Reds the orchid whisperer.”
“That is fucking amazing!” said Axle, truly amazed.
“So, is that it? That’s all you want to know? I’ll tell you anything. I feel so ashamed,” said Angela, tears starting to flow from her eyes. “I had to do it.”
“I guess, for now, it all makes sense. Wait, why are our bikes here, and why are they going to Pepe’s?”
“Reds guilt…He’ll be making this up to you for a while, I’m guessing.”
"Well, it would be hard to scold Red, even if it were just once?"
"Ya, but not for me... I really let him have it. I can't remember seeing him so hurt. Seriously, he really felt bad! Frankly I don't care how much he needed it! His business untangles all my life, and always has."
"Well... I don't intend to reprimand him, even in the slightest.
"Honey, I think you better sit down, I have more to say."
"Ah come on...there's more?"
"This is good news, least I hope!"
"I'm pregnant!"
Axle spun, from the view over looking the ocean. "WHAT?"
"Are you pleased?"
Dan Ger
