Road Journal .52 (Verdigre, NE)

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Broken Promises of Youth

So come with me, where dreams are born, and time is never planned. Just think of happy things, and your heart will fly on wings, forever, in Neverland! –J.M. Barrie

A line of motorcycles revved their engines in the parking lot. Atop them, mounted like cowboys on steeds, a gaggle of men—tattoos exposed from tank tops, knee-length boots concealed under jeans—wrapped their palms around their handlebars.

I sat with my bike in neutral waiting for a sign to go. Having never been to a bike rally before, I had no idea why we were waiting.

A muffle of conversation hummed over the engines—bikers talking about the military or about custom exhausts or arguing Harleys vs. Triumphs.

From a car door two dozen yards away stepped a long legged brunette, her eyes hidden beneath a cowboy hat, her wedding ring beaming in the mid-day sun.

Was it the long legs? The brown hair? The wedding ring? I’d just gotten off the phone with Karina, a long time friend and former girlfriend who’d ended things a few months back when I was in San Francisco. She’d called to announce her engagement.

It was exciting news. I would’ve never imagined she’d be getting married to someone other than me, but I couldn’t have been happier for her. The only nagging pain was the reminder that people were growing up. Everyone it seemed, except me.

Certainly I was shedding my innocence along the roadside but I wasn’t settling down. I had voyages left in my sails.

The brunette walked toward me, her hair dancing in the wind, her golden legs strutting beneath a short skirt. She looked me in the eye, reflecting the force that drew us together.

With a roar, I heard the bike in front take off.

I wanted so badly to stay and watch this woman. To speak to her. I was in love …maybe not in our present but somewhere in the soul’s timelessness.

I came to her like something from a collective past. I, Peter Pan, and she, Wendy. There I was, at the window of the nursery where we’d first met—and I knew things were different. She’d grown-up. She’d gotten married. And as much as I wanted to ask her to fly away with me—one more time back to Neverland—I knew it couldn’t be done.

The man behind me honked then revved his engine angrily. I kicked my bike into first gear and pulled the throttle back, leaving the gorgeous woman somewhere in my rearview.

I couldn’t have stuck around anyway. I was an invited guest to this biker rally. Some members of the bike club had seen my act in Omaha and had invited me to perform at the rally. They were even paying my way for the weekend.

The line of bikes slowed as we turned onto the country highway. A long stretch of roadway lay before us. But I couldn’t get that girl out of my mind. She’d turned into a woman. There had once been a promise that we would never grow up.